Under Your Skin [Private]

[Anonymous]

One day during his wandering along the coastal region of Serendipity, Gavin -- or rather, his cat, Tiki -- stumbled across something unusual. The animal began pawing at what appeared to be a seal's skin hidden about the shore. Gavin ended her attempt at eating the odd item, but couldn't bring himself to just throw it back down onto the sand.

No, there was something important about this odd, empty skin. In hopes of keeping it safe from not only Tiki, but other animals or people who might find it and damage it, Gavin put it away into the pack he wore when he didn't have somewhere to sleep for the night.

A few days later, he found himself inside a modest-sized tavern, enjoying a hearty meal. He had already earned his board for the night by working for the tavern owner. His items and cat were in the room he would be staying in. He counted himself fortunate to have been given a room to himself. He had worked hard for the owner, and after explaining the difficult he had sleeping with other people in the room, he had been allowed to keep the room to himself instead of having to share the bed with other patrons seeking shelter for the night.

Sitting at his table, he appeared a bit odd. He wore a long-sleeved shirt with a hood loosely pulled over his head. On the right side of his face he wore a brown soft-leather quarter-mask that covered the area around his right eye, but didn't hide any o his face below his cheek bone.

On his left have was a modified glove which covered his pinky finger, ring finger, the outer side of the back and palm of his hand, with a cord between his thumb and index finger to prevent the glove from slipping out of place.

[Anonymous]

Too much of a good thing - that's what they kept telling him.

The novelty still hadn't worn off, and how many weeks had it been? Oh, Etienne could do this for days. This city was so alive with strange scents and sights - it was an awful lot to drink in, he would willingly admit, but his eyes remained thirsty for it all. Dawn was when the colourful markets would open wide, and dusk was when they'd close their makeshift doors. The crawling rays of sunlight were beginning to bleed back below the horizon and blanket the city in eventual darkness - and the pang of homesickness made itself known then. It got dark gradually under the ocean; they were usually reluctant to dwell below the surface long after it was gone. What dwelt there was dangerous, even moreso when blinded by night.

Regardless, Etienne had nowhere to spend his night. Dressed in what appeared to be a pale green tunic, ill-fitting trousers and a thin chord for a belt, he made his way back to the coastline. The sand was cold under his feet, and the mild breeze chilled his skin. His fingers idly plucked at the soft fabric of the tunic, only to slip down to the cord at his waist, beginning to untie the knot. Though, he came to the hollow by the shoreline, and peered under the rock - but the space was empty. Not a sign of that smooth coat to be found. He blinked, frowned and straightened up once again. Glanced up and down the shoreline - there wasn't a soul in sight.

He swallowed thickly, and looked back beneath the rock - as if he expected the coat to just... appear. No such luck, unfortunately. The tide - he decides. Perhaps the tide came in a few feet too far, there was a storm a few days ago. That made sense. He straightened up again, and stepped back onto the damp sand, tracing his steps along until the water licked his toes. Nothing but shells and stray seaweed dotted his sights. He brought a shaking hand to his hair, and pressed his fingers through - he swore he heard the ocean call for him. His sister was waiting - would she be worried? She'd always warned him that someday this would happen. A not-so-kind soul would find something that wasn't theirs, and abuse their newfound power. Etienne had grinned at her for her folly, and now he was cursing himself for it.

The breeze drifted by him again, and his head snapped up. Eyes narrowed, he tilted his head back. A week. It had been a week. He grit his teeth - someone had found it. Someone had picked it up and kept it. All he could do was hope they had no clue what it was. Hope they were kind enough merely to relinquish their hold on it before they comprehended the full extent of their odd find. He swore quietly to himself, hung his head down over his shoulders, and headed back along the sand until his feet touched the cobbled roads of the streets again. For a time - he merely walked. Head down, thumbs hooked beneath the cord at his waist, quietly listening. The dull rushing in his ears began to get louder, louder and louder until he stood outside a wooden tavern. Sturdy in the sea breeze, the doorway flanked with dancing flames in the now darkness. He blinked up at it, blue eyes precarious. They were in here; with his skin.

Places like this had been readily avoided by him. Occupied by loud patrons who made ridiculous sounds as they shared rooms, and strong smells that could intoxicate without touching lips to liquid. But he had no choice. Not really. Reluctantly, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Thankfully - the place wasn't crowded. Not as he had been expecting. A group of men sat around a circular table at one end, flagons of ale clutched in their beefy hands and a grimy looking deck of cards shared between them. A woman in a flowing dress sat in quiet conversation with a young man a few tables away, and on the other side - a man sat. Alone. His face was mostly hidden from Etienne, yet somehow the Selkie knew it was him. The coat had a scent. It would resonate for days and linger for longer. Like seashells and fresh winds - heavy salt and cool waves. It was him. Etienne stood by the doorway a moment longer, gaze fixed on the man, before he approached. The door creaking shut behind him. Food was laid out before him (oh, Etienne's stomach rumbled at the sight, though he didn't even give it a spare thought), and a tuft of bright hair was visible curling over the hood obscuring his face.

He came to a stop at the other end of the table, pressed his fingertips to the wood, lost as to where to begin. He'd done this once; found the human with his skin once, and the old man had known what he was looking for. Hadn't returned it to him until death had claimed him. What was Etienne to do if this man had used his skin for something else? The glove on one of his hands stole his too-blue gaze for a terrifying moment, before he looked back to that masked face.

"Hello." His voice came soft. He cleared his throat, the odd accent still curled his words, he tugged gently at the opposite chair, it scraped against the wooden floor, "Might I?" A gentle smile this time, his gaze searches that half-hidden face for more answers, but there's too little for him to find. Nothing at all, almost. It is frightening.

[Anonymous]

Soft brown eyes had noticed the stranger looking around the tavern with a purpose. They followed him as he made was way to the table, and he couldn't help but smile a little bit. This man smelled like the ocean, just like that skin his cat had found.

Gavin also couldn't help but notice this newcomer's reaction to his food, and he slowly pushed his bowl forward, offering it to him as he pulled the chair back.

"So it belongs to you, then," he said quietly. His gaze was observant, but also hinted at excitement.

"I knew there was something special about it..." He then glanced at his glove, lifting his hand a little to show that he had noticed the man glancing at it. "Cowhide. I wouldn't damage something so beautiful for a trivial item like this."

[Anonymous]

Sun-dried tomatoes and what looked like goats cheese were laid upon the plate, and Etienne looked down at it - blinked once. But didn't reach out to take any - he didn't know what was in it. The man hadn't told him to - so he didn't have to. He wasn't sure if he should trust this man - Etienne watched him carefully. Those brown eyes hinted at kindness, and knowledge - but it was always the most intelligent that proved to be the most deceitful.

The man spoke then, and their eyes met over the table between them, the Selkie's narrow slightly with his words, and the fluttering worry in his chest relaxed as he was assured the glove was made from cattle hide. He pressed his palms atop the wooden table, on either side of the plate.

"Thank you." He murmured, quietly. Gaze never leaving that strange face. Still partially hidden from him - he wanted to know what was beneath it. What he was trying to hide. His residual panic subsiding for now (his skin was intact, but still in someone else's possession), "You don't... know what it is?" He asked then, forgetting for the moment how easily the man had been able to deduce that it belonged to him, he tilted his head to one side, a lock of brown hair curling over his forehead slightly, he tried to see further beneath that hood. He smelt human. But scent was rarely enough to make a reliable assumption. Regardless - Etienne hoped human was all he was.

"How did you find it?" He pressed on, he knew it was unlikely that a human whom had no clue what Selkie's were would think to keep their skin. They often brushed them aside as long decaying sea animals washed upon the shoreline, or a gutted animal after some attack. They rarely knew what accompanied keeping such an item. Which truly only complicated things for Etienne. This man didn't know what he held - and if he did, then he was playing a strange game.

[Anonymous]

"Well, it reminds me of stories my sister used to tell me when I was a child. I'm not sure if such thing exist, but...strange enough things exist in the world, why not shape shifters?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

"My cat found it while we were walking along the shore. She wanted to eat it. I could just...tell that there was something special about it. I couldn't just leave it for another animal to come across and do the same thing with. I had hoped that it was important enough that who it belonged to would be able to find me. Looks like I was right."

He stood then, taking the bowl he'd been eating from. "Even though I feel it really is yours, I hope you can understand that I have to ask you to prove it. I can't go and be responsible for something precious falling into dangerous hands," he said, moving to head towards his room. "It's this way."

[Anonymous]

Another faint frown touched his brow at the strange man's words, only making him seem odder by the moment. He was generous in his smiles. Etienne noticed this immediately. He doesn't return the smile, merely watched the easy set to the man's shoulders, and the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed. He ducked his head, looked down to his lap, slipped his hands from the table to settle over his thighs. The trousers felt itchy against his skin.

"So it would seem." Etienne looked up again, glad that it was safe - glad that his cat hadn't managed to chew it to pieces. He lifted his gaze as the man stood, then. His chair scraping softly against the timber floorboards. Etienne's hands moved back to the table, and the plate was taken from before him. He stood too - and followed as the man had asked. He pressed his fingers together as they passed the crowd of liquor-bathed men as they began their next game of Blackjack, pointedly avoiding eye contact, and keeping his gaze on the man before him's heels.

"What do they call you?" He asked, when they'd fallen into the resolute silence of the tavern's narrow hallway, peering at the back of that hooded-head, as if it would give him answers. He felt he should know - this stranger did seem kind. Unless by asking Etienne to prove it, proof wasn't what he was looking for at all. The Selkie had heard stories, yes. Sometimes they were lured into situations such as this - the female of his kind often forced to become unwilling wives to human men, sometimes the males, too - or a life of slavery would await them.

The floor creaked under their steps, and Etienne walked carefully. The wood was rough under his bare feet, and his chest was beginning to tighten once again - he could almost hear his sister's voice, scolding him for getting himself into such a ludicrous situation, for hiding his skin so carelessly, for leaving it without assuring it's safety. He merely hoped she was wrong about humans.

[Anonymous]

"Gavin," he replied simply, leading the Selkie into his room. Once inside, he pulled down his hood, then went to retrieve the skin he had kept safe. He laid it on the bed with care, then moved to stand in front of the door after closing it.

He was grateful that the room didn't have any windows; it would make it easier to keep the skin from being stolen if it turned out not to belong to this person. Once the brown tabby had seen her master bring out the skin, she hopped up onto the bed and began sniffing at it, meowing loudly. The feline looked up at her master, as though pouting because she knew he wouldn't let her eat it.

"Tiki, get away from it," he instructed. With a rather unhappy look, the cat retreated from the skin.

"Just show me that it's yours and you can take it," Gavin reiterated to the stranger.

[Anonymous]

The moment his skin was laid before him, his whole being seemed to relax. It was a reassuring sight, it shimmered gently in the dim firelight, as immaculate as it had been when he had first cast it aside. Etienne took an involuntary step forward as the cat padded close to it, but stopped himself from further moving. Gavin's words were enough to shoo the feline away.

He looked back to the man by the doorway again, another silence drawing between them. Thick and unsteady. There would be no route to escape - Gavin blocked his only exit. He very much wanted to snatch his skin and retreat - the muscles in his shoulders tensed with the desire - but his hands merely relaxed, unclenched, and he reached up to the chord about his waist. He untied it easily and set it aside, the trousers (far too large for him) slid from his thin waist without him even needing to touch them. The linen shirt was next, and his clothes sat in a rumpled pile at his feet, while he stood bare, pale skin illuminated in the dim glow.

It didn't matter to him - he wouldn't mind walking about in absolutely nothing. These land dwellers were odd in that respect, covering up what came naturally. It was a foreign concept to the Selkie. Comfort in his own skin was enough. Clothing was simply too difficult to grow used to - the crisp air felt wonderful against exposed skin. He reached for his skin, but paused before his fingers quite reached it. He could feel the familiar tug, like a current - steadily pulling him closer. He glanced up at Gavin.

"You want me to... here?" He asked, for clarification, brows lifting slightly, but he waited for no answer, too eager to feel the soft fur again, lifting it from the lumpy bed, he shook it once, before he stepped into the little seam down the center, fitted the skin over him like a coat (blue eyes meeting brown before the fur fell over his face), and as he folded the flaps down over his chest - he felt the familiar shift and the audible crack as his bones shifted and slid into place, accompanying the familiar change to his true form. He surged forwards rather suddenly, down onto the wooden floor, and didn't dare open his eyes until he felt the rest of his being fall into place. Inch by inch - none of it was painful. The first few shifts had been, but it hurt no longer. It felt like stretching after being cramped for far too long. It was a relief. A shudder climbed up his spine, and his fur stood up at all angles.

His tail gave a thump against the floorboards. He'd never really allowed anyone to witness his shift from human to seal - usually did it in the darkness by the shoreline, or concealed beneath the shadow of a jutting rock. Always, always secretive. He felt as if he had committed some sort of crime in doing this in front of a human - his sister often prattled about the 'sanctity' of their kind. But Gavin had left him no choice (he had no choice but to comply, Gavin had asked him to).

Then, he simply sat, staring up at Gavin with beady black eyes, as if to say 'Satisfied?'