Tenrou-Raiden

It was fairly dark in the library, the only sign of any presence a single reading lamp that was illuminating one of the large tables tucked away amongst the shelves. The table's surface was already covered with several large books and many scraps of paper upon which notes had been hastily written. Their author seemed to be missing, though an observer who continued watching for a few moments longer would see him step out from the shelves with several more volumes in his arms. These joined the others already on the table and the man sat down to begin reading with an air of almost desperate determination. Eric Slingby had been in the library fo

The room was lit by a pair of oil lamps, their flickering light more emphasizing the shadows than casting any more light. A young man, in what should have been the bloom of youth, lay on the room's single bed with the sheets pulled down away from his bare chest. Sweat glistened on his skin as he slept, lost in fever-dreams. It was chilling, how quickly the disease had taken hold of him. Just that morning he had been smiling, laughing about a joke he had heard recently. Then he'd started coughing, and when he'd lowered his hand there had been blood on it. The immediate diagnosis was consumption, what would later be called tuberculosis, and he

Over the course of the next three weeks, Stein found himself getting less and less sleep.  During the day he stayed either in the patient's room or very nearby, even going so far as to put off his smoke breaks as long as possible – the man was getting better about being left alone in the room, but it was still a touchy area – and during the night he roamed the streets of Death City. The night was the only opportunity he had to do so, as then the patient was asleep and Stein didn't feel it as necessary to remain nearby. Of course, he'd also taken a pager and left strict instructions with the nurses to call him if anything at all chan

It seemed at once several hours and barely a minute before Stein felt the patient relax. He glanced down to see the redhead's shoulders still, his breathing more even. As though feeling Stein's eyes on him, the patient looked up. Those blue eyes were a little clearer now, though there was still a certain heaviness to them that Stein was fairly certain wouldn't be got rid of so easily. The scientist was silent as his patient looked around as though seeing the room for the first time. "I'm really here..." the man's words were barely a breath, his tone one of wonder and relief. "This is real..." "Yes," Stein said, making no move to let go or m

He was red. Stein blinked at himself in the bathroom mirror, vaguely confused. Most of his skin – well, that skin that wasn't usually covered by clothing – had taken on a vivid red color and felt oddly hot and tight. It was uncomfortable and strange, and he had absolutely no explanation for it. That in itself was unheard of. Turning, the ten-year-old boy padded silently down the hallway to his partner's room. Spirit would more than likely still be asleep, but he was the only one Stein had to ask about this strange turn of events. On reaching the door, Stein paused a moment and debating knocking. Then he just opened the door. It was

When I was young, I knew not how To release the wolf within. And slow was the growth from then to now Much to my chagrin. I looked out upon the world The cub of the wolf within My fangs were blunt, I did not know That my trials had yet to begin. Through the years, as I grew, So grew the wolf within. Though it grew fast and I grew slow, 'Twas a race we both would win. Not a child, but not yet grown, The yearling wolf within. Angry, fighting, rebellious cub That was what I had been. The anger faded, the fighting passed, Again grew the wolf within I left my home, followed school and heart, Looked forward with a grin. Not whol