Michael Fey Wong, little black haired boy, skinny as a stick, pale as bleached daisies. His hair was down to his shoulders, straight and silky as shining black fabric. His mother always said he should cut it, but he loved his hair long. That way, he could run his hands through it. It just felt so cool, and it helped when he was nervous. Michael more than anything like being petted, which was too bad for him, being as nobody really felt the need to touch him, not unless they were punishing him. His parents, and the boys at school included.
He turned his husky blue eyes to the three figures above him. His eyes were touched at the edge of his iris with a thick line of dark blue, and a ring of white around his pupil. His newest friend Elizabeth told him that his eyes looked 'so cool they could kill' but he didn't really see that as a compliment. Michael didn't really like thinking his eyes could kill people. Wasn't that a kind of bad thing? Though, he supposed she wasn't serious about that part.
The three boys were grinning down at him as he hunched in on himself, whimpering as blush thick as icing spread across his face. He didn't much like that they were staring at him, and worse was the funny flutter in his stomach at the raw pain in his back. Kavin McGinnis, a tall Irish boy with so many freckles you'd think they'd take over his face and declaire dominion over him, had slapped him open handed so hard he thought he should have heard a bone cracking. Though Michael was much tougher than that, and he already felt the sting progressing into the soft ache of a bruise. He always healed like that, so much faster than normal human. But they were laughing now, apparently his reaction of moaning and falling down had sparked much more interest. He didn't understand though.
What was that weird feeling? And why were the boys leering at him as if he were a girl who had pushed her skirt down after a wind? Michael never understood why boys liked that kind of thing. It was just weird. And rude. They couldn't be more civilized? Though the thought had made him laugh when he first thought it. Civilized...He had real guts thinking that, when he himself thought sleeping under people's beds and licking at his wounds was normal.
Richard Thomas, a boy short, squat, and toad-like, with a mess of black hair on his pudgy head, reached down, poking at the slightly bluish hand print on the boy's back, making him cry out and cringe again. "Aah man! Lookit him! He's a freakin masochist!" he stood back up, his blubbering laugh echoing off the tiled walls. Masochist? What was that? Everything today was just too confusing. Why were they being so mean to him?
"S-s-s-sto-sto-stop it.." he sputtered out, burying his face in his hands as that flutter rushed through his stomach again, making him want to roll over and throw up. There was an odd stirring between his legs, and he whimpered again, that soft puppy noise he hated so much. Nobody had been THIS mean to him in elementary. Thirteen and he was in his first year of High school. He had been excited. Thought he would get the chance to learn more, have so much fun in art, and maybe get to take special computer classes. The things they taught in elementary felt too much like kiddie games to him. Those silly work sheets with pictures on them. What was the deal with those?
But no. High school was worse. Everyone was always making fun of him, shoving him. It was like a war zone, and he was the enemy prisoner. In elementary people ignored you unless you made them interested somehow. He never raised his hand, just did his work, answered simply without embellishments when he was called on, and tried to just fade into the background. Michael was too shy to talk to anyone, let alone have friends. He just didn't create a big and wonderful impression of himself. He hadn't minded. Less to worry about without friends.
Michael was suddenly brought back from his musings with a swift kick to his poor bony butt, and he yelped, squeaking at the end with that odd whimper, scooting across the floor as he pressed hands over himself, turning wide and frightened eyes to the three boys. The tallest stepped forward, his short red hair wet and sticking around his head as if even with water in it it wouldn't behave. Andrew Collins, a boy that looked like he was fresh off the farm, and somehow more grown up than he actually was, had his hands on his hips, naked as the day he was born, where as the other boys at least sported towels. He had the perfect toned body of a basketball player, his dark brown eyes shining with humor. He looked like a boy who would grow up and be on the front of business magazines.
Only now, he looked like a naked flesh and blood nightmare. Michael swallowed, pulling his trembling bottom lip into his mouth as he pressed himself up against a wall, and squealed with the sudden touch of cold across his hurt back, scrambling to stand up away from the cold thing. Apparently the walls didn't get doused with enough water to get warm.
"God, look! You're right, Ricky." he pointed, hand motioning for Michael's lower quarters. The asian boy looked down, heart suddenly in his throat as he shot hands down with a girlish wail to cover himself, shivering with the sudden rush of body binding embarrassment. "Th-th-that's n-n-ne-ne-nev-never hap-p-pened be-be-before!" he stuttered out, bitting off his sentence with sudden deeper embarrassment as the three boys burst out laughing, Richard putting a hand to his forehead, Kavin wrapping arms around himself, and Andrew actually leaning down to put hands on his knees, as if he were out of breath.
"First one, Mikey? God, you're such a kid." Andrew stood back up, crossing arms around his chest before he took a step forward, his two friends standing back, grinning and chuckling to themselves. Michael turned his head, not wanting to watch the naked boy move toward him. He felt a hot flash through his stomach and he put hands across his belly, trying to sooth the motions away. His back throbbed, and he twitched, making him clasp his legs together suddenly, hands shooting down again. If he could have died right then, he would have gladly praised whatever deity had granted him mercy.
But then, god must not have been paying attention, as he seemed to go on living, and Andrew was still advancing on him. "Everyone knows you're gay, but god. Masochistic too? You're a real winner." he sneered, tears flowing down michael's face as he cringed, hunching his shoulders as if he would curl in on himself. The door to the locker room opened suddenly, and Andrew stopped, turning his head around to listen for foot steps.
"Hey mikey, you in here?" the cool tones of Ezzy's voice came echoing in from the doorway, and michael suddenly felt like he would jump for joy, wag his tail. But he resisted that bit of nonsense. "Y-y-y-yeah!! C-c-coming!" he called back, suddenly hurrying past the three boys.
Kavin grabbed his arm and squeezed, digging fingernails into him as he whimpered and tugged. "Remember mikey, we aren't done here. Go have fun with your little friend." he laughed at the sudden thicker blush on michael's face, then let go so the skinny thing stumbled forward, rushing to dig his gym clothes out of this locker, throwing them on with himself still wet from head to toe, making the dark grey shirt and shorts wet, pulling his red sneakers on before dashing out of the locker room, sparing just enough time to close his locker, making sure it was secure before scurrying out.
Bursting from the door he nearly did a full turn around, his arm the pivot point in another thick grip. He screamed, high and terrified before Ezzy's face came into view. He gave her an apologetic look, shifting from one foot to the other as he sucked at the corner of his lip, eyes glancing back at the locker room door. He could smell the boys, knew they were still in there, even hear them laughing. Laughing about him.
Elizabeth, Ezzy, was a Spanish girl with long lashes, a thin wide mouth, and a pretty and fair face, her chocolate brown eyes like deep shining pools in the beautiful scenery of her face. She was strong, but not overly muscled. Very much a punk rock kind of girl. 15, and in her first year of high school. She had taken to michael the first time she had met him, in the halls fiddling with his locker. He was stuttering and growling at it, trying to get the lock off. It had just been the cutest thing on the planet. It wasn't until after getting it open that she realized he could have been her little sister, with how similar they looked. Well...brother. His voice had surprised her.
"Mikey, why do you let them pick on you? Really, you should just rub it in their faces." she said, letting go of his arm, noticing the quickly disappearing half moon indents in his skin. She shook her head, the dangly skull earing bouncing around. "Y-you're not sup-p-posed ta wear that f-f-for gym Ezzy." he pointed at the earing, and she rolled her eyes, moving hands up to pull it away, stopping for a moment to stuff it in her shoe.
In standing up, she couldn't help but notice the odd and slightly protruding front of the boy's shorts, and with a wide sly grin she pulled him in against her, arm going around her shoulders. "And just what, pray tell, has brought about your new change in...wardrobe?" she asked, making the last word sound as thick with double meaning as she could. It wasn't that she wanted to make him feel bad, Ezzy just couldn't help herself. Couldn't help but play with his little quirks. Often, she just called him cute. And there was plenty cute in a thirteen year old gay Asian boy with an erection.
Michael squeaked, and he wasn't sure how many times he had done it in the past twenty minutes, but he was beginning to get tired of it. "E-ezzy!" he whined. But she pulled him in against her and kissed him on the forehead. "Aww, come on mikey. You know I don't mean it like they do. It's just.." she suddenly made a sniffle noise, and hugged him tighter, shaking a fist by her chest dramatically. "My mikey's discovered the wonderful world of sex!" and he pushed at her, shoving her away as his eyes went wide.
"I-i-i...I don't know. I.." he stuttered, unable to make his thoughts form into words, and she crossed her arms over her chest, moving in to pull him against her again. "Aww, come on mikey. It isn't bad. In fact, it can be very fun." she wriggled her eyebrows at him, and he blushed again. It wasn't that he thought of her that way, but thinking of himself that way, that was weird. "I-i-i..b-b-but..Y-you don't u-u-underst-st-stand.." he murmured, fiddling with the drawstring on his pants.
She gave him a questioning look, and he sighed, swallowing the sick feeling in his stomach. "Th-th-they hurt m-me.." she suddenly had a thick look of anger on her face and he had to grab her with both hands and plant his feet to keep from being pulled forward. Inhuman strength didn't do a lick of good when you're only four foot, six inches, and ninety-six pounds. Michael scrunched his eyes closed, and Ezzy stopped at his next stuttering words. "N-n-not like THAT Ezzy!!!"
She turned, a sort of apologetic smile on her face as she stopped. She was already five foot three, and sill growing. She grabbed the Asian boy and tossed him up on her shoulders, carrying him piggy backed as if he weighed nothing. "Ooh? How did you mean then?" she grinned, giving a hop to make him wrap his arms around her, heading toward the girl's room in the gym. They were taking actual honest to god gymnastics, and michael loved it. The girls never thought he was showing off. Well most of them didn't. Michael got to be in the girl's class, because the boys were always too hard on him, and he was always such a stuttering pile of embarrassed mush that he simply froze, and couldn't move. He was so deeply frightened around the boys, afraid of what they would think, afraid of what they would say to him, the looks they gave him. Even the boys he knew were gay. In fact, those bothered him the most.
Once, michael actually started crying and shivering just from one look from a brown haired boy, who he knew was gay. He had wanted to sink into the floor and cry. So, the two separate gym teachers had gotten together, and decided for the good of his physical education, the girls would simply have to put up with him.
"W-w-well...Kav slapped me..an I-i-i think h-h-he was t-tryin ta r-r-really h-h-hurt me...but it...I.." he wriggled uncomfortably, that funny soft feeling in his stomach again as he thought about it. Ezzy giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck. "Aww..Mikey. They're just gonna hurt you more now. You know what you should do?" her voice was high and cheerful, and she turned her head to look at him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "...what..?" he murmured, a sulky look on his face. He did not like the idea of the boys teasing him more than they already did. Only three months into the first year of high school, and they were already calling him their favorite game.
"well, first of all, stop stuttering all the time. Yeah yeah, I know, c-c-can't." And michael had been just about to say that exact thing.
"BUT! You should rub it in their faces." the giggled, a decidedly evil sound as they made their way through the doorway into the room set about with all the different pieces of equipment, michael hopping down from her back at an exasperated look from the teacher, Mrs. Mathers. Michael came around front and gave Ezzy a look of confusion. "W-what do ya m-m-mean?" his head bobbed forward a moment with the effort of trying to talk normal.
"Make kissy faces at them. Tell them you like it. Ask them if they want to see you naked. Offer everything you can, make it real dirty. It'll scare the shit out of them." she giggled, and michael quirked an eyebrow at her, crossing his hands over his chest. "C-c-can't do that!!" he sounded desperate and shocked at the whole idea. How could he? It was...he couldn't play with his own preferences like that. They would...
"But it's not like you like them, right? So it's not personal. And if it isn't personal...you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You don't feel like asking the cashier at the store to pay you back when they get the money for it, do you?" she grinned, as if this were the most brilliant idea on the planet. Michael tilted his head to the side, and smiled, wide and happy. Ezzy nearly squealed at the sight of that smile. It was like seeing the sun rise right after a rain.
"Guess you're right, E-ezzy." he smiled, putting hands on his hips. He wasn't sure why the idea just worked, but it made sense. Sure, he figured it would be hard at first, but he was willing to try anything to get those three assholes off his back. The thought made him put a hand to his mouth, as if he had said the words out loud. Michael wasn't really one for swearing, but those three...they just bugged him so much..
A basket ball came rolling across the floor and through the doorway, bouncing up and hitting Ezzy in the leg. A voice called out from the main room, but it echoed so much between there and where they were that michael couldn't tell who it belonged to. Snatching the ball from Ezzy who gave him curious eyes, michael turned toward the doorway, walking over to lean on it. Already his methodical mind was going to work, and he grinned when he saw Andrew making his way to the doorway. The red haired boy smiled, putting his hands out for the ball. "Hey, toss it back, pixie boy!" he grinned wider, as if his mind were racing with more and more insults. "Or do you want me to come over and force you?" his tone was light, normal, but michael saw the look in his eyes, that dark look that said 'I know you'd like it.'
With a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest, michael pushed himself away from the doorway, putting the ball up on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the rough bumpy surface. He forced a grin on his face, letting his eyes slip slightly toward that amber of panther, letting the cool rush of cat push in his mind. He knew the other boy couldn't see it from there, and he needed that cool wave to do it. Or else he would have screamed and ran.
"Awww..Andy doesn't want me to play with his balls...?" he called, voice cool. He didn't have the right voice for seduction yet, but he pushed, trying to make his voice as full of sex as he could, putting his free hand on his hip, fingers pulling at the waist of his shorts as if he were simply scratching lazily, running his tongue out over his bottom lip. Something he usually got teased for, but he made it slow, lingering.
Andrew's eyes went wide, stopping in his tracks at the odd behavior from the asian boy. This wasn't normal, and he suddenly felt like he were a sweet, and michael couldn't wait to unwrap him. The look in the asian boy's eyes made him squirm. He wasn't gay, but michael looked like a barely teen-aged girl, and the grin wasn't helping his mind much. "Listen, just give me the ball, you little fag." his eyes glanced behind michael to the Spanish girl, her arms crossed under her breasts, a wide smile on her face.
Michael smirked, tossing the ball, which sailed and hit the other boy in the chest, making him make a small grunt as he caught it, nearly stumbling in his rush to get back to the rest of the boys. Michael felt light in the head, suddenly dizzy, and sort of like he was going to pass out. That had been way too scary for him. That push of panther seeped back in, and he turned, swaying a little as if he had had too much cough medicine.
"FUCK michael, that was fantastic! You're a really great actor, you know that?" she turned, scooping him in under her arm again, Mrs. Mathers giving them a look that could have melted steel plated doors. He always thought that woman must be schizophrenic, with how different her emotions were. One minute bouncing and cheerful, the next, stern and cold. He supposed it was the sort of thing you got after spending years as a girl's gym teacher. Girls were just way too emotional.
With a thick blush on his face again, michael passed a hand up through his nearly dried hair, grinning. "That w-w-was scary.." he murmured. Ezzy laughed, that loud and cheerful sound making him feel like he'd just won the olympics. He knew the boys would still be teasing him, probably would still hurt him. But maybe after a while, they wouldn't do it anymore. Maybe he would have to practice on more people. People who didn't try to hurt him and tease him. After all, what could it hurt?
Michael Fey Wong. 13 year old Japanese/Chinese boy, ahead of other boys his age as far as schooling went. He looked like he could have easily been a girl, with the right outfit, maybe pigtails. He still had that baby look on him, and it was what usually made people tease him. He loved to draw, read, and listen to music. There was nothing more special to michael than running around in the woods behind his house, or sitting napping up in a tree. Michael very much loved the outdoors, and often begged his grandfather to take him out to camp, or just spend the day outside.
But none of that was really what was special about michael. Not what he thought was most special about himself. Michael lived in a world full of odd things; Vampires, zombies, fairies, real honest to god demons. He still wasn't sure if there was a god, or even if there was just one, but he supposed he would know that when he died, so he didn't much care. In this world of myths and legends birthed into the light of day, in the exception of vampires, michael thought he was pretty special. Michael was himself, an animalistic shape shifter. Not like a lycanthrope, where they were like two people battling it out in his head; no. Michael was his animal forms. Of which he had a total of two; Panther and wolf; but he loved them anyways. He always thought with that soft push of animal instincts, even more than normal people did. The want to run and hide when he was hurt, the want to bite and claw when he was angry, the push of a purr in his throat when he was happy. He didn't just have animal forms, he WAS them. To the ultimate extreme. Above that, he was human, and it was magic inside him.
He had to eat a lot more than normal people did, more often. He had heightened senses; hearing, sight, smell, taste. He had a higher metabolism, and his body ran hotter than normal, and his mother had had to send a note with him the first day of school, saying the nurse wasn't to ever handle him, because of religious reasons. They didn't want him getting pulled out, in suspicion of being a lycanthrope. He had asked why they couldn't just draw blood, and send the test results. Lycanthropy was a disease, and showed up in blood scans, it just didn't communicate between people like aids did. You had to be in animal form, or even half way for it to work. And even then, it didn't always work. You could get torn into and still come back. Or you could get a single scratch, and turn the next full moon into whatever had attacked you.
But that was all besides the point. Michael was simply magic, and his mother just didn't want to deal with it all. She had said something about people not distinguishing between monsters, and he had slapped her, kicked her in the shins, and run off to the copse of trees out behind his house. Michael wasn't a monster, and he wasn't going to ever stand for anyone ever saying it. Not even his mother.
There was a tight anger deep inside michael, and so much thick embarrassment that he couldn't function as a normal human being.Well, for now. He planned on changing that. A wink, a smile, a simple phrasing of double meanings, and he would be all better.
See me bow, see me dance, and my mask never slips.
Yeah.