ofcatsandfate | Oh deer.

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Oh deer.

Now that Fabrice has moved back in, gotten settled, and assured his beloved cats that yes, this time, they are home to stay, he really craves a Quill run. He has the rest of today off, not starting work back at the zoo until tomorrow, and he desperately needs a greasy junk food fix. Sating his cats with an extra can of wet food (and God, do they ever have him wrapped around their paws, with their big, sad eyes and pitiful meows every time he so much as blinks), he grabs his wallet and keys and heads out the door. He pauses for a moment in his walkway to send a text to Cecilia, just to see how she's doing, before shoving his phone into his pocket and heading on his way.

He could ride his bike for the extra exercise as he heads into town, but today, with its slightly less humid temperature and overcast sky, feels like a day for walking. It's been too long since he's last had the chance to enjoy the view of Siren Cove coming in from the outside; the gradual decline of trees into civilization is a beautiful sight, and if he had any artistic abilities, he would dearly love to paint it.

And, he thinks to himself, though he tries not to, this venture is also a test, of sorts. Ever since that night in Oregon, at that bar, Fabrice has had more cause to worry about venturing out in public. That asshole, Donny, he thinks, who started bragging about how many wolves he's killed; he continued from there about derogatory remarks about the women he's slept with, and then wound up getting in Fabrice's face once he saw how uncomfortable he'd been at the source of his conversation. He kept prodding at Fabrice until he nearly punched him in the face. Said asshole also turned out to be a witch. A damned good one, considering how quickly and subtly he'd managed to curse Fabrice.

Fabrice now lets out a steadying breath. He refuses to let that jerk win, from however many miles away they are apart. As long as he remains calm, and he doesn't let his nerves get the better of him, he ought to be okay.

Surprisingly, his resolution holds; he doesn't encounter any mishaps on his way to Siren Cove. At least, not until he reaches the edge of town, where various people sprawl in the damp grass, on blankets with books and significant others to keep them company. He smiles briefly at the sight, though his heart aches a little at it, too. He manages to clear his head of those thoughts a moment later, distracting himself with thoughts of a black raspberry iced tea and a bear claw to go with it.

This is, of course, the moment that a teenager nearly collides into him on his bicycle. Fabrice's stomach drops as the tingling sensation that comes with every transformation begins spreading across the tiny hairs on his arms, like wildfire. He desperately looks for a place to hide, but by then, he's already dropped to all fours, and it's all he can to quickly shove his wallet and phone in his mouth as the magic takes over.

He arises minutes later, fully a deer. The teenager gapes at him, before running off and screaming. The various people gathered begin to panic in their own ways. Shit, he thinks. And then he runs, back towards the woods, knowing he's already failed his own test. And possibly a few laws, while he's at it.

[OOC: Basically, Fabrice's curse is that he transforms into his animal form every time he's startled/overly nervous. I want to play it out as a plot for a little bit, so I do ask that any magical suggestions not work for while yet. Eventually, he'll overcome it, but not yet. Set to late morning/early afternoon; feel free to have witnessed him transform from anywhere on the edge of town by the woods! Have him nearly run your pup down or whatever you like. A good time to meet him, despite everything. Open to all!]

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Fabrice is too occupied in attempting to flee from the strangers who saw him transform, he doesn't think of the possibility of running into other people as he makes his getaway. He runs with the sole purpose of escape weighing on his thoughts; he doesn't pause to consider the consequences of his reckless running until he nearly collides with another person.

He manages to skid to a halt even as the man before him moves out of his way. And then Fabrice curses internally, because he knows normal deer just don't stop like that in front of people.

He watches the man, wondering what he'll do.

Auryn blinks at the stag's sudden, aware stop, and he tilts his head. If he were better with mental magic, he'd try to project calm, but the only animals he's ever been able to affect on a large scale are wolves and dogs -- and this is not the time for them, calm or not.

The stag is magic, though. It faintly glows with it, whatever it is, and he's beginning to think it's not a deer at all. He reaches out a hand, tentative and wondering, with the respect any wild thing deserves. His gaze is steady but sidelong, used to animals.

"What's got you so startled, gorgeous?" he asks casually, venturing a careful step closer and trying to make sense of the energies he's feeling. He'd much rather not give away how much he can feel; maybe he's wrong.

Besides, it is a gorgeous creature, whatever it is.

Fabrice concentrates on focusing his breathing, an attempt to keep his nerves from taking over and further revealing more of himself in the process. He can feel and hear the breaths escape his nostrils from the heavy way they resound in the air around him; a crude and natural melody.

The man watching him seems remarkably calm for someone who nearly got run over by a deer. Fabrice remains where he is, though he gets the sense that the man before him isn't a threat the longer they both remain where they are in the clearing. He holds out a hand towards him; Fabrice stills even more, but he doesn't flinch or back away from the touch.

Fabrice doesn't want to reveal himself as a witch to a stranger; he knows Violet is gone, and that the witch who cursed him into transforming against his will remains in Oregon, as far as he knows. Still, he can't help but think that people out in the world still want to hurt him; it makes him overly cautious.

Still, he lets the man step forward. He might not be willing to transform back yet, but he finds himself increasingly trusting of this particular human. He would blush, if he were still human himself, at being called gorgeous, even in just his animal form.

Instead, he bows his head, leaning forward. A gesture of approval, for the moment.

Auryn doesn't trust people very easily, but -- even when he was living with his aunt -- animals have always been safe. His father taught him about the dolphins and sharks of the Everglades and to be respectful of the fish they caught; his late uncle's hounds were the only ones in his aunt's house who understood him being himself. Before even he did. Animals are good judges, and they aren't shy about making their feelings known, and he feels comfortable with beings like that.

He's becoming increasingly sure that this particular animal is possibly also a person, or was once, or any number of interesting options, but that doesn't mean it hasn't snuck past some walls by presenting itself to him as something other than human. There's a very childlike part of him that can only see deer and it's the same part that finds himself at home in the woods, finds more of a cathedral in the trees than in any created place of ritual.

At the regal bow of his head, Auryn smiles, and he gently lays a hand on the stag's neck, near its flank, communicating curiosity and calm. "I won't harm you," he says aloud as he does, and it's as much to any witch, fae, or whatever is causing the knot of energy he can feel around the deer.

In some ways, hiding behind his animal makes meeting new people easier for Fabrice. He's hiding in plain sight, behind the disguise that is still very much a part of who he is. Ever since last year, he has grown in being able to socialize with others, but the fact remains that he still tends to keep to animals and people he already knows when he does prove social. Meeting others as a deer proves a lot more comfortable for him, he's coming to find.

Ever since he and Cecilia both learned to shapeshift, Fabrice has treasured the ability. It's a complicated magic, and he is grateful for it in helping him further understand animals. Not to mention, in many ways, people. Especially during hunting season.

The man he's come across keeps staring at him in a way that Fabrice is sure that he must know he isn't an actual deer. The thought should unnerve him, but it doesn't. Something about this stranger's curiosity peaks Fabrice's own.

And then he can feel the calm communication flowing from the man's hand on his neck, along with his words, and Fabrice is certain this man has powers himself. Whether as a witch or siren, he can't yet be sure. As uncertain as he in regard to what he's about to do. He wishes he could communicate more thoroughly in his deer form, but he can't. And he senses that he can really trust this stranger, when he says he won't harm him,

So, with a deep exhale of breath that is absolutely human, he undoes the transformation. After moments of sparking motions clouded by the powder of magic, Fabrice rises from where he once stood as a stag, clad only in his shapeshifting outfit of an undershirt and boxers. Very much blushing, he takes another steadying breath before meeting the other man's gaze.

"Hello," he says, rustling one hand through his hair awkwardly. "This is awkward, but um. Thank you for not hurting me?"

The deer sighs, and then there's a poof of smoke and light that is almost funny, it's so cinematic. Auryn steps back from it a little, blinking in surprise as the stag is replaced by a lanky, freckled young man, dressed in just underclothes. There's something about his build and features that makes the thought well, of course he's a deer flit through Auryn's head, and he laughs, at himself and at the incongruity of the situation. The young man's blush is furious under his freckles.

Auryn grins, utterly pleased. He's never met a shapeshifter before, not in person. "I thought you were more than a deer," he says, then more seriously: "I hope you don't feel inclined to thank everyone you meet for that slight a kindness." He offers his hand. "Auryn Connor. I think I owe you an introduction after, um." He smirks. "Petting you."

If Fabrice is fast enough, he can sometimes catch the remnants of the magic surrounding his own transformation. Today is not one of those moments, as he blinks and concentrates on focusing his vision from that of his deer form. He watches the other man step back, a more reserved reaction than what Fabrice expects, considering his experience with those unused to magic.

At the sound of the other man's laughter, Fabrice wishes he could will away the red beneath his freckles. Yet even with his magical abilities, he's never been capable of doing that. Still, his laughter isn't malicious, which he appreciates with another sheepish smile. "What gave me away?" He asks with a quirk of his lips, as if he didn't already know the answer to that question.

"Well, it's been a rough year," he admits with a shrug. He doesn't say that he's used to aggressive behavior towards him, but, well. Between his aunt nearly killing him and the witch who cursed him into transforming against his will, he rather is. He shakes his head briefly to clear it of those thoughts, smiling more when Auryn offers his hand.

"Fabrice Coombs," he replies, shaking his hand gratefully. "It's nice to meet you, Auryn." He giggles nervously at that. "Well, in fairness, there are worse reactions to have towards a deer that nearly runs you over."

Auryn grins. "Well, you're a very communicative deer," he comments. "Also, the magic." He feels less uncertain about giving away his own status as a witch, now. "I can feel power around people." He draws power out of the air, asking for just a little, and creates a little light ball with it to hover in his hand. "When you're shifted you all but glow." He tosses it back away from himself to dissipate.

His smile fades a little. He can understand that, especially lately. And in general; he's used to being an outsider, someone people don't react well too. And especially lately, blown up into some sort of psychotic criminal when what happened was overtly unfair on the part of the police. It's only Detective Astor's influence that even made sure he was connected with a lawyer who could properly represent him. "I know that feeling. People can be cruel. Particularly if you threaten some idea they have."

"Fabrice," Auryn repeats, with a nod, taking that knowledge in. "It's a pleasure." He laughs. "I suppose there are. I was a little more worried about what you were running from." He tilts his head. "Coombs." He gestures toward the town. "As in --?"

"I ought to know better. I work with animals for a living," Fabrice replies with a brief shake of his head and a quiet smile. "The magic?" He tilts his head, curious. He knows it's rather obvious while he's shifting, but he never expected for anyone to pick up on the magic of his deer form while he merely remains a deer. "Oh. I didn't know I glowed while shifted," he muses, trying not to think of how much Cecilia is likely to make fun of him for it.

His eyes widen as he watches Auryn, clearly a witch himself, creates a ball of light from out of thin air. "That's incredible," he tells him. "So you can trace power and form it into something tangible?" It seems to him like one hell of a power to have.

"Or if you just happen to get in their way," Fabrice says with a shrug, trying not to dwell on the night Violet Coombs confronted him and nearly sent him to his grave. "God forbid you simply exist as you are, with all your ideals and just trying to get by." He shakes himself a moment later, instantly regretting his words. "Sorry. That sounds so bitter, and I'm not, really."

"Running from the crowd, as a matter of fact," he says with a wry grin. His smile falters when Auryn gestures towards the town, making the connection at last. "Yeah. I'm a cousin, but yes. That Coombs family."

Auryn smiles. "It's hard not to act according to your nature." He gestures. "Not visibly. And I'm sure not to everyone. I just have a --gift for picking out where energy gravitates. I thought you must either be using magic or you had one hell of a spell on you."

He can't help but stand a little straighter when the young man's eyes widen at the little ball of a light. "Sort of," he says. "I've never had anyone define it quite, but I can -- call upon power? I suppose?" He makes a little face. He knows that around trained witches he can seem uneducated. Everything he's learned, he's had to track down himself or just try and see what happened, usually hidden from his aunt.

"I reach out and ask a question, and the universe answers, or it doesn't. It helps to know what I'm talking to really well. What things are composed of. But sometimes that's energy itself." He focuses on the air just above his fingers, the little dust motes, the waves and molecules. It's no trouble to convince movement, and a little blue flame bursts into life from his fingers. He grins at Fabrice.

He regards him, wondering what he's been through to cause that. "It's no shame to be bitter. I know that feeling." He gestures toward the woods. "I prefer to live out here, and I'm not quiet about my magic. That alone's enough to make some angry that I exist."

"Your - extended - family's legends are what brought me here," Auryn says, calmly, not pushing too much. "Where I grew up, magic was a sin if it was even considered possible. I heard Siren Cove was different."

"I suppose you're right," Fabrice says, offering the other man a rueful smile. "No matter how much I might wish I could fully become an animal, I really can't erase all of my nervous ticks, even if I wanted to." He pauses for a moment, contemplating Auryn's description of his own powers. "That's quite the gift, being able to read energy like that," he says.

Fabrice doesn't think any less of Auryn for appearing untrained, going by what he mentions about his abilities remaining somewhat undefined. He thinks it's ridiculous, the way some with power, who've had the luck of being able to study and educate themselves at their leisure, look down upon those with less of a chance at magical education. "That's incredible," he says. "I don't think I could talk to the universe, though, shouting into the void after a particularly long day sometimes helps." He manages a kindly grin.

Fabrice wonders if he's seen his name in the papers; the attack wasn't exactly hushed up, being so heavily drenched in the Coombs vs. Thornton curse conspiracy. If not, Fabrice doesn't exactly know how to explain that he was nearly murdered by his own aunt. Not exactly a typical conversation starter. "I live out in the woods, myself," Fabrice says. "It certainly makes magic much more easier. And less likely to draw attention to oneself." He frowns. "You shouldn't have to be quiet about your magic, I don't think." Fabrice knows the laws are in place for a reason, but he also doesn't see why anyone with powers ought to feel ashamed of those abilities.

"Really?" He says, tilting his head curiously. The motion retains something of the deer he was just moments before. "I suppose our family stories travel as fast as any other gossip. Siren Cove does seem to attract a lot of the magical crowd."

Auryn gives him an empathetic smile at that. "Do you?" he asks curiously. "Wish you could become an animal, fully?"

"Thank you," he replies, genuinely. "I don't think it's much different than anyone who does spellwork. Reaching for something you don't already have. I don't know." He rubs the back of his neck. "My father's whole family are witches, but I was --" He presses his lips together. Usually he shares his story openly if bitterly, but something holds him back. "I didn't grow up with him. And magic wasn't encouraged, where I did. So I don't know if I explain my powers very well. What of yours? Solely shifting, or something else?"

Auryn nods, with a small smile; he'd thought himself unusual in his preference for solitude, and it definitely does make magic easier. "Easier to concentrate, as well. Do you live around these parts, or...? I wonder if we're neighbors without knowing it." His smile widens a little at Fabrice's assertion. "I appreciate that," he says. "Not everyone shares your opinion. Anything different is frightening to," he waves generally. "The status quo. Whether that's race, sexuality, magic." He might be willing to die for the right to his magic, but that doesn't mean he's ignorant of other oppression: it all makes him angry. "People will do a lot to make someone feel - agree - that they're lesser."

"Now you've found out the real reason I live in the woods," he grins with only a little bit of apology.

"But yes, Siren Cove's a magnet for magic, and among the scattered witches in the rest of the country it's a bit of a legend. I've been looking for a place with a community, somewhere I could learn and practice safely." He smiles wryly. That's not quite what Siren Cove has been, but he's settled here for better or worse.

"Well..." He chews on his lip, running a hand through his hair as he considers the question. He's had many moments in which he's longed for nothing more than to disappear - from the weight of his own name, from the gossip around town, or from the world in general. He knows becoming an animal fully wouldn't make his life any easier, but that hasn't prevented him from daydreaming about it all the same.

"Selfishly, yes. Mostly as a means of escape." He offers Auryn an uneasy smile. His introversion is difficult to explain to other people; most aren't understanding when one tells them that they've fallen asleep on people just to get them to leave, too exhausted to deal with more socialization.

"It's its own magic," Fabrice says. "And it's no less valid than any other form of magic. I hope people truly haven't been giving you grief for that." He doesn't think it's right or fair for people to judge others based on their skills and abilities; it's what he so disliked about his own aunt. "I'm sorry you grew up where magic was discouraged. That must have been tough."

"I shift, but I also do spellwork," he admits, at last letting his hand fall out of his hair to hang by his side. "I concentrate on healing spells and magic that has to do with animals, but I'm pretty decent with charms, too. Trying to work on improving my self-defense magic," he adds with a self-deprecating smile.

"We very well could be," Fabrice nods, his smile turning genuine. "I do live around these parts. On the same street as my mother, as it turns out." He'll let Auryn make of that what he will; many people have already given him enough grief about it, as is.

"No kidding," he nods. "And it makes people react in terrible, harmful ways."

"I realize our history is very...interesting," he says. "I didn't realize just how far those interests reached."

The nervous gesture is endearing, and Auryn finds himself aware of that fond feeling, not afraid or denying but something to keep in mind, to account for in judgement of interactions. Fabrice hasn't done anything to cause mistrust, but he should know by now that some awkward deer-boy he just met isn't his friend just because he's also a witch. Granted, maybe more likely to be than someone who knows nothing about magic.

He smiles encouragingly though, nodding at the answer. Auryn can handle social activities, even well sometimes, it just tends to be more likely to be one on one, or based around a mutual activity and a combined anger at the status quo, like his friends in high school. He's not uncomfortable alone in the woods for days or weeks at a time.

It makes him oddly comfortable to know someone else would rather be around animals than people.

"No more grief than I've been given for having magic," he says wryly, wondering if Fabrice has seen the news about his arrest or not. It wouldn't be the best first impression to make. He's seen his name before in the papers too, now that he has a moment to think about it, but his focus has been on learning about the historical Coombs more than the current misadventures. He sticks his hands in his pockets and nods briefly. "I didn't realize for a long time how much I missed out on. When I did it was -- an awakening." He remembers pouring through books, sitting on the floor of the county library between stacks with tomes on religion and history and paranormal trying to piece what wasn't being said together from the books that hadn't been banned outright in his rural little area.

He smiles. "I don't know much about healing," he admits. "Something needs fixing up, I do it with my own hands. But I could teach you some things about self defense, if you wanted."

Auryn gestures back a little ways down the street. "I'm not exactly on a street," he says, "more like a trail. But not far from here." He isn't sure what to think about him living close to his mother; he doesn't know enough about their family dynamics and, now that he's met Fabrice, he's even less likely to look it up behind their back.

Auryn acknowledges with a decisive nod. "It shouldn't be that way," he says. "I want to be, at least, the sort of person who doesn't stand for it."

"You'd be surprised how far a legend will reach to people desperate to believe in something."

Having Cecilia for a sister certainly has helped Fabrice cope more adequately in social situations; now that they're both back in Siren Cove, he hopes he can continue improving in meeting people and interacting with them in meaningful ways, preferably without having to resort to falling asleep on them.

At that, Fabrice's eyebrows shoot up, and he suddenly realizes he's seen Auryn before. "Hold on. That wasn't you they arrested the other day, was it?" He always winds up studying the papers, especially for stories regarding magic and its uses. He remembers being unnerved by the story of the arrest; he still doesn't understand why 'open displays of magic' are so policed in a town so defined by its history of magic.

"I'd like to learn more about self-defense," he says. "I could teach you about charms and healing, in exchange, if you wanted?" Fabrice is always happy to expand his magical abilities, and he's happy to have found another witch who seems to feel the same.

"Off the beaten path, then?" He ventures a small grin. Fabrice tends toward shyness in a lot of ways, but he doesn't regret living so close to his mouth. He's heard his fair share of disparaging remarks about his living situation; he doesn't care. He prefers remaining close to his family, to help out whenever he can.

"I suppose that is true," he nods. He never considered it from that perspective before. "And Siren Cove does have a lot of legends."

Auryn internally winces. Well, there goes that hope. Still, he maintains he did nothing wrong, at least privately, and he holds his head up about it. "Yes," he says. "Apparently the beat cops around here aren't particularly keen on someone moving a fallen tree without their permission." He still remembers, bitterly, the guns pulled on him, as though he were about to throw a tree at them or do some other malicious spell. The way they'd spoken about witches. There's not much that brings out the truth of people like fear. "It's sad," he says, with a raised eyebrow. "A place so teeming with magic, tries to confine it indoors and behind walls instead of learning about it."

He's relieved, then, that his first impression and ensuing unhappiness about it doesn't chase the young man away. He lifts his head and smiles. "I'd like that," he answers. The healer of his childhood home had been his mother, and her magic had been religious ritual and folk knowledge rather than true power, but any memory of herbalism he has, is from her. The idea of knowing some real charms is appealing on a number of levels.

"Very much so." Auryn's smile widens into a small, self-aware grin. "Always, if I can help it." He nods at the woods. "I could show you sometime."

"It does. I'd never found myself reading about sirens so much in my life."

Fabrice watches Auryn wince before he speaks, affirming his suspicions. He says nothing as the other man explains himself. Considering that a Thornton works on the police force, he has his own reasons to distrust the police here. So when Auryn explains that he got arrested for simply removing a tree, Fabrice finds he isn't entirely surprised. "I didn't know magically moving trees was a crime," he frowns. "I'm sorry, that seems like a ridiculous reason to get arrested."

"I know," he says. "I do believe that is partially because of my family and the supposed 'town curse.' Which really is ridiculous. Not everyone with magic deserves to be punished because of what happened in the past."

"Oh, good," Fabrice smiles. There's something almost quaint about exchanging one set of magical skills for another; like a farmer's market for witches. He likes the idea of it very much.

"I'd like that, too," he says.

"There are just as many sirens here as witches, I reckon," he says, shoving his hands into his pocket and chewing his lip thoughtfully.

Auryn arches an eyebrow. "Apparently one worthy of drawing a weapon." He waves a hand. "I won't say it's better where people don't know about witchcraft, because it isn't, and there's always a reason to target people you don't understand." Witchcraft not being illegal didn't stop his parents from coming under the scrutiny of protective services. "But I have to admit, I expected that those who don't have magic in Siren Cove would still understand its benefits, not simply have laws on the books to control it. It's not simply some plaything to be controlled. There's always a reckoning for that sort of behavior, by humans or witches."

He shakes his head slightly. "Perhaps it's exacerbated," he says, "but the reason for that curse, if it ever existed, was because fear of witches existed already. Enough to make the Coombs' standing unsuitable to the Thorntons," he reasons. "It's the 21st century. Our lives and our laws would be unrecognizable to your ancestors. If there's someone to blame for the laws on the books, it's not them. Much less anyone with their name," he inclines his head.

The idea of trading skills gives Auryn a warm feeling, heightened by the idea of learning something new. It seems right to him.

"You're welcome, if you want to sit down inside for a bit. And I mean, you're only a little smaller than I am. You could borrow some jeans to get home in, at least." He nods toward the path. "I won't be offended if you say no," he adds, "given that we just met, just seems like you've had a rough day."

[OOC: This is SO. LATE. Totally okay if you want to fade.]

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Oh deer.

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