[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

The feel of the summer heat on his neck, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the sound of dogs barking... if there was a heaven and Isaiah Moore was going there, it would look a lot like this. Dog parks were possibly his favorite place on Earth. He had visited this location many times before and kept coming back; the people were friendly and their dogs were on the whole very well behaved. Few things frustrated Isaiah than a poorly trained dog.

His own two pups were being perfect... as usual. It was such a source of pride for him to know how well trained and well socialized his dogs were. Athena, his beautiful and athletic German Shepherd, was strutting around the perimeter of the dog park proudly, engaged in a game of chase with a lab. She was strong and confident, and even though she'd been that way all her life, sometimes Isaiah still laughed at how bold she could be. Cesar, however, was a different story. The broad shouldered staffy wasn't necessarily lacking confidence, he was just indifferent to most external stimuli. At the present moment a smaller Shibu was sniffing all around Cesar's private areas and attempting to latch on to the bigger dog's backside, but the pit bull didn't seem to notice, and if he did notice, he didn't seem to mind.

As he sat on the bench inside the dog park, outwardly he was calm, cool and relaxed. Inwardly, however, he felt a crackle of electricity surging through his veins. He was used to it now, as it happened anytime he got near any sort of canine. But here in a dog park where there were many of them gathered together? It felt like someone had plugged him into an industrial sized battery and turned the power all the way up. He could feel the energy of each individual dog, and even though he didn't know their names, he felt connected to a part of each of their life sources. Their raw power. Not that he would ever use it on a dog he hadn't spent months training, though- the results would be catastrophic.

No, instead of powering up any of the dogs here at the park and letting the whole world know that he was Cerebus, the masked vigilante who used two hell hounds to help extract justice against wrongdoers, he would just sit here in the dog park, enjoying time with his pets, being a regular kid.

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[Brian Harris]

New meds new me.

That’s what he kept telling himself. New meds new me. New meds new me. Valium, Clozaril, and Wellbutrin, or rather Diazepam, Clozapine, and Bupropion. He couldn’t afford the brand names. They were the same thing, so he supposed it didn’t matter, but for some reason it always felt like he was getting ripped off. Meds for the poor people. But that was just his anxiety speaking. He’d gotten better at recognizing these sorts of things. After group after group of CBT, DBT, every type of BT, he found his negative thoughts somewhat more manageable. He’d always been labelled as fairly treatment resistant, but the MNRU had done a good job. They were probably better funded than most - if not all - of the previous psychiatric facilities he’d been to. He found he was able to be around people without immediately having a panic attack. And the voices…

”You are walking on the sidewalk.”

They’d lessened somewhat. And they’d gotten more neutral, their personalities had diminished, diluted.

”We’re going to the park! We’re going to the park! We’re going to the park!"

Well, they’d gotten less mean.

“Pill popper.”

For the most part.

At least he knew how to deal with them, how to ignore them, how to make sure they didn’t get under his skin. Furthermore, he’d learned to accept them.

“Fuck off.”

”Oh hush up.”

Well, he’d accepted most of them. Dennis was a hold out. But he had hope, for once, that they’d eventually learn to coexist.

Brian had gotten on disability, and while it was by no means luxurious, it was better than stealing. He had a tiny, shitty apartment stocked with shitty furniture. He was seeing a state sponsored therapist and psychiatrist and both of them agreed that Brian should wait another month or two before job searching to be sure he was stable enough to deal with the stressors that having one would entail. He’d been trying to kick the bottle, and was succeeding thus far. He was eighteen weeks sober; the longest he’d been in a very long time. Every liquor store he passed enticed him, but he’d managed to resist their call. For the first time in a long time, he had hope for the future.

His therapist had said that he should try to get out and be around people. Immersion therapy and all that. He’d slowly started going to the grocery store - not to get anything, his appetite was still very low - just to be in the public. Slowly, very slowly, he’d gotten acclimated to the grocery store, so he decided to step it up a notch. Brian loved dogs. He’d only really been around therapy dogs, but puppy therapy had always been his favorite kind of therapy. He heard there was a dog park nearby so he decided to go. Dogs should be therapeutic, right?

As soon as he got there, he felt a rush of embarrassment, because he was at a dog park and

“you don’t have a dog you fucking weirdo.”

Meanwhile, Clara was excitedly screaming, ”OMG PUPPIES PUPPIES PUPPIES PUPPIES!!!" at the top of her nonexistent lungs.

Brian took a deep breath. Only way for immersion therapy to work was to immerse yourself, so he walked on in. Taking a look around, he wasn’t sure what he should be doing. Can he just go up and pet someone’s dog?

”Omg look at that doggo!” Clara squealed as Brian’s eyes fell upon a beautiful German Shepherd.

”She is gorgeous.” Sasha agreed.

”How do you know they’re a she?” Brian mumbled.

”She has a feminine aura. Can’t you tell?”

That’s another thing the meds had done, they'd made Sasha more...spiritual in a sense. Less posh and more hipster. Brian approved of the change - it made her far less mean - but he wished she’d be perhaps a bit less annoying.

Looking around the park, he saw a man who seemed to be keeping an eye on the dog his voices were so enraptured by. He took a deep breath. ”Okay, here goes nothing.” He muttered.

”You can do it Brian!”

He walked up to the man, tense, his hands balled up into fists. ”Is that...um, is that your dog?” He asked, pointing to the German Shepherd. ”She’s um...they’re um...really...They look uh, good, n-nice, pretty.” He cringed.

“Ooh, that was bad.” Dennis hissed.

”You talked to someone.” Tect said.

He swallowed hard. He could save this. ”Can I um, pet her-them?” He asked, shaking ever so slightly. He looked down and started wringing his hands together. ”I, uh, thought I should ask first.” He laughed a little at the end to try to make things sound natural, to give the illusion that he had an iota of confidence.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

He tapped his toe lightly against the grass and soil beneath him, the Airpods in his ears ringing with a melodic and uplifting techno beat. He wasn't the type of person whose earphones seemed to be glued to his skull; he never had them in when he was walking the dogs, for example. As their pack leader it was important for him to be aware and "in the game," so to speak, at all times. Athena and Cesar needed to maintain a very healthy level of trust and respect for their master if Isaiah hoped to keep them obedient... especially if he wanted to be able to control them while they were under the influence of his power.

His private moment wasn't meant to last, however. He was vaguely aware of someone talking at him halfway through they were finished mumbling their first sentence. Plucking his pods out of his ears, he turned to face the source of the voice, bringing a hand up to his eyes to block the glare of the sun and get a better look at the person's face. It was a man, Isaiah's age or close enough to it, and he looked... off. Isaiah noticed a contorted look on his face, like he had physically had to tense himself to work up the courage to engage in conversation. Isaiah managed to tune in to the man's words just in time to catch the last little bit of what he was saying.

”She’s um...they’re um...really...They look uh, good, n-nice, pretty.” What in the world was he talking about? But then Isaiah followed the man's line of vision and realized that he was talking about Athena. A smile instantly spread across Isaiah's face. He was pretty one-track minded when it came to praising his pets... even if the guy did seem a little strange, Isaiah wasn't going to deny himself the opportunity to agree with someone who was saying how awesome his dogs were.

"Thanks!" Isaiah responded with a beaming grin. "When she was a puppy her coat was a lot more muted, but the older she's gotten the more vibrant the gold has become. Which seems weird, right? You'd think it would work like with humans... the older we get, the grayer our hair becomes." He looked over at Athena, still chasing around the lab. He let out one whistle, its tone long and low. Immediately both Athena and Cesar stopped what they were doing and looked up to their master, just as they had been trained to do. He let out another whistle mere seconds after the first, this one two short and staccato notes, pitched low and then high.

Immediately Athena bolted towards the two men, while Cesar stayed in his place, still dutifully ignoring the Shibu furiously humping at his leg. Despite the smaller dog's persistent nagging, Cesar kept his gaze focused solely on Isaiah. Good job, Cesar, Isaiah thought to himself with a grin. He had calls for each of the dogs individually and then the two of them as a group. Their training really was coming along nicely!

Athena made her way to the pair of humans and leaned her body weight ever so slightly against Isaiah's leg. He reached a hand down and ran it through her thick golden mane. "This is Athena," Isaiah said to the man who had approached him. "And you can definitely pet her. Always smart to ask around a dog you don't know, but she's super friendly. Go ahead!"

Brian Harris

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[Brian Harris]

He held his breath. Had he said the right thing? Was this how people were supposed to act? He’d just gone up to a stranger and talked to them. Just talked. Is this what normal people do? I mean, he supposed. How else did people make acquaintances, friends, boyfriends, husbands? Ha, there was a thought. Getting married. Maybe, one day, he’d find the right person. Oh look at that, a hopeful thought. He smiled a little. Thank the lord for Wellbutrin...Bupropion...whatever.

”You’ll get a hubby one day, Brian!” Clara encouraged.

Thanks. He replied. That’s another thing they’d taught him in therapy. How to nonverbally communicate with his voices. He still wasn’t entirely used to it. He was far more accustomed to mumbling to himself like the freak he was, but practice made perfect. He was slowly but surely getting better at it. He just had to remember to keep practicing.

Oh my god. This man was talking to him like he was a normal human being. Like Brian wasn’t some psychotic freak of nature. It was such a new experience. Refreshing. He felt giant weight lift off his shoulders. He immediately relaxed. He had done the right thing. It wasn’t weird for Brian to be talking to him. It was a normal thing to ask to pet someone’s dog. He may have gone about it a little...strangely. But he made it there. He talked to someone like a normal person and they treated him like a normal person. What a victory.

”Congratulations, Brian.”

”You did good.”

Brain smiled.

He listened intently as the man talked about his dog’s coat, almost giddy at the normalcy of it all, but careful to keep a calm, interested look on his face.

“Booooring.” Dennis chimed in.

”I think it’s extremely interesting.” Sasha vehemently disagreed. ”Her coat is gorgeous. You should tell him that.” She said. ”And I told you she was female.”

He watched with interest as the man let out a low whistle. The German Shepherd turned to look at him, but so did another dog, a pitbull. He let out another whistle and the German Shepherd came bounding over. Athena - he introduced her as.

”Yay puppy!” Clara exclaimed.

Given the man’s permission, he slowly reached out and stroked the dog’s head, feeling that growing sense of calm and confidence that came along with petting an animal. ”Her coat is gor-um...beautiful. Her coat is beautiful. Soft.” He said. He sensed the man's pride in his canine, he assumed complimenting her was the right thing to do, as Sasha suggested. “Is that also your dog?” He asked, pointing at the pitbull. ”I noticed they looked at you when you did the...um...whistling thing.” He said, cringing at his failure to act confident and normal, like this man clearly did. “I’m sorry I’m so awkward, I don’t get out much.” He apologized. “I’m trying to get out more though.” He explained.

”No shame in explaining things.”

That’s right. No shame.

“My name is Brian, by the way.” He greeted, remembering the conversation standards they’d taught him in therapy. Introduce yourself. He wondered if he should give him a handshake. He decided against it, opting to continue petting the dog, scratching behind her ears. It really was calming.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

Isaiah had no option but to smile politely and nod. He didn't want to be an asshole and definitely didn't want to make this guy- Brian, he had introduced himself as- feel uncomfortable. But it was clear there were some issues going on. Word vomit flew out of Brian's mouth like exhaust fumes out of a monster truck. Isaiah got the distinct impression that Brian had been yearning for someone to talk to, and that maybe there wasn't a whole lot of communication with other people in Brian's world. His comments all seemed prepared in a way, like they were rehearsed, and then rushed by childlike excitement.

"Don't worry about it, man," he said giving a playful slap on the other guy's shoulder. "I'm pretty damn awkward myself and I get out plenty. It's all good." He smiled wide, hoping to make Brian feel at ease. It was an easy white lie to tell. Isaiah definitely would never have classified himself as awkward, and briefly tried to recall a single memory in his entire life where he had felt awkward in a social situation before giving it up as an exercise in futility. This Brian guy was weird, there was no question about it, but he seemed harmless enough. Actually, he seemed like a genuinely nice dude who was trying. Isaiah had to respect that.

"Yes, the pittie is mine too," Isaiah said to his new friend. He bent down to work on petting Athena's back while Brian seemed very content with himself to pet the German Shepherd on her head and behind her ears. Isaiah looked up and whistled out his call for Cesar; a single note that started low then swelled high and back low again, almost wobbling like the sound of a passing siren for three seconds. Cesar nipped cautiously as the Shibu still humping him to get the other dog to back off so that he could bound towards his master as well.

"This is Cesar," he said introducing his blue nose pit to Brian. Cesar sat dutifully but kept his posture upright and body tense, not sure what to make of Brian initially. Where Athena oozed a kind of relaxed confidence that allowed her to let her guard down while the stranger petted her, Cesar was more wary and less inclined to trust those he did not know well. Not that he would ever do anything about it, of course. Cesar was an incredibly loyal dog and Isaiah knew that he would never attack anyone... unless he had been commanded to.

"I've been training both of these babies since they were puppies, so I have a lot of trust built up with them, but the whistle trick was still hard to teach them. I think probably because their ears work so well and there's so much noise in the city... but they seem to have finally gotten it down," Isaiah said to keep the conversation going. Nothing made him more uneasy than awkward pauses or silence. It seemed to be a trait he and Brian both shared, actually, although in his own mind Isaiah was a better conversationalist. The notion that such an opinion could be rude very quickly entered his mind before being pushed into the corners again.

"Do you have any pets at home?" he turned to the dogless man in the dog park.

Brian Harris

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[/quote]

[Brian Harris]

He knew that look like the back of his hand. The smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes, the little twitch in his face the told Brian the man was uncomfortable. Something about Brian wasn’t coming across quite right. He was acting weird.

“He knows you’re a schizo freak.” Dennis hissed. “He can read your mind.”

“Oh not this again.” Sasha groaned.

“He cannot read your mind.”

What was he doing wrong? He was doing all the things his therapist told him to do. He introduced himself, he talked, he even gave a compliment. That was one of the toughest things to learn - giving compliments. For some reason, it always felt so wrong coming out of his mouth. A compliment always felt like an insult. But Sasha told him to say he liked the dog’s coat, so he did. It seemed right. Was it not right?

He flinched as the man gave him a little slap on the shoulder before he could stop himself. He didn’t do it as violently as he would’ve had it not been for the Valium/Diazepam and the nonstop therapy, but it was still noticeable. ”Sorry.” He quietly apologized, then grimaced. That was another bad habit he needed to kick. He was still apologizing all the time. It insinuated that he was guilty, even if he’d done nothing wrong. He was still confused on what ‘doing wrong’ was, but he was told that he blamed himself for doing something wrong far more than he actually does something wrong.

The man’s smile relaxed him somewhat. He was still warm and friendly, and he felt a little wave of relief at the man’s own admission of awkwardness. There was always something so special about relating to others. There were very few people around who had a mind like he did. Finding someone he had even the least bit in common with was always a victory. Brian found himself smiling back, not quite as wide as the man was, and he still wasn’t confident enough to show any teeth, but he smiled nonetheless.

Brian listened to the man’s whistle, impressed. He couldn’t whistle like that if he tried.

”Puppy puppy puppy puppy puppy..!” Clara chanted excitedly as the pitbull came bounding over.

”That’s cool, so you have a whistle for each of them?” He asked. He noticed Cesar seemed a little more tense, a little less openly social than Athena. Still, he didn’t seem aggressive or overly protective so Brian wasn’t scared of him. ”They seemed very well trained.” Another compliment. Hopefully he did it right this time.

He admired the man’s love for his dogs. He could tell by the way he spoke about them that he loved them greatly, and they obviously loved him. It made Brian somewhat jealous. He didn’t have that kind of relationship with anybody - human or animal. A slow melancholy washed over him, but as soon as it came, it went. Brian was back in the present. He supposed that mindfulness stuff really did work.

”No, I never had pets. I always wish I did though. I love dogs. And cats too.”

”And bunnies and birds and hamsters and chinchillas and…”

He realized again that it was probably pretty odd for him to be at a dog park without any dogs. ”I’m just here to get out somewhere that’s not too...um….stimulating I guess, and...I like dogs, so I thought, you know, why not just go out and be around dogs.” He shrugged as if to excuse his awkwardness.

”Um, do you mind if I sit down?” His back was starting to hurt leaning over to pet Athena. German Shepherds were big dogs, but Brian was six foot four, and he found he still had to bend over to reach her. ”And can I pet Cesar?” He asked, remembering the man’s advice to ask before he pet anyone’s dog. ”And, um, I don’t think I got your name.”

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

"I do have a whistle for each of them, yeah," Isaiah offered. He conveniently neglected to mention that fact that one of his main reasons for training the dogs with whistles is so that he could keep them under control when his power turned them into running, jumping, sentient tanks. His power made dogs stronger, faster, more lethal, and although he couldn't be 100% sure, he also got the feeling it made them more feral. More driven by instinct. Because of this he had to make absolutely certain that he had a way to control them, to keep them tethered to reality. Brian's compliment about them being well trained pleased him.

When Brian apologized for maybe the 15th time during their first five minutes of ever having known each other, Isaiah decided he needed to be as kind and welcoming as possible. This guy obviously had some confidence issues to go along with whatever other issues he had going on, but at least the guy was trying. Isaiah had to remind himself that not everyone was as naturally social as he was; just like some people had natural talents for drawing or being athletic or singing, he had a natural talent for making friends and talking to people. It was a talent he knew not everyone shared.

Isaiah wrinkled his nose at Brian's mention of cats, and hoped the exaggerated look on his face indicated to the other man that he was joking. "Cats and I do not get along. They are really cute though. I've always been a dog person." Isaiah wondered if by the tone of Brian's voice, there was some external factor preventing him from owning an animal. Isaiah also knew that people who had been through all different kinds of traumas and issues benefited greatly from interaction with animals. A thought popped into his mind and before he had time to decide if it was a wise one, his lips were moving.

"My parents are veterinarians, and they work pretty closely with a few animal shelters in town. Have you ever thought about volunteering at one? There are so many dogs and cats there who need people to love them and play with them. I would do it myself if I had more free time!" At Brian's request, Isaiah nudged Cesar towards the other man and gave him a look as if to say, He's okay, boy. Go give him some love for a few minutes. Looks like he needs it.

After Cesar sauntered over Brian's way, still with a wary look in his eyes but ever obedient to his master, Isaiah shook his head at himself. "Sorry, I can be really rude sometimes. My name is Isaiah." He put his hand out, offering Brian a shake. "Always nice to meet a new friend, Brian," he said, hoping the word friend with put the other man at ease and make him feel welcome.



Brian Harris

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[Brian Harris]

Brian really did admire the relationship this man had with his dogs. It must’ve taken a lot of time and dedication to train the animals like he did.

”I wish we had doggies like that.”

He’d heard rumors around the psychiatric ward’s proverbial water cooler that there was a facility somewhere in Texas where they give you a puppy and you’re supposed to train it and raise it throughout your treatment, and then you'd get to keep it when you left. It was supposedly supposed to teach the patients about responsibility and self assurance and provide them with a therapeutic companion. He didn’t know if this place really existed, but he always wanted to go there. If anything, it sounded much better than the state sponsored shitholes he’d stayed in when he was younger.

He flinched internally when the man wrinkled his nose at his mention of cats, but quickly relaxed when he realized he was being hyperbolic. He was joking. ”Fair enough.” He said, scratching under Athena’s chin. ”Everyone has their preferences."

”He doesn’t like kitty cats! How dare he!” Clara expressed angrily.

”Respect the man.” Sasha countered. ”He can like what he likes.”

”Whatever.” Clara pouted.

“I bet he’s drowned a bag of kittens.”

Don’t say stuff like that. Brian requested respectfully.

“Or what?” Dennis challenged

He’d ignore him. That’s what he would do, ignore him. Voices always seemed to vanish when he had something else to focus on, so he honed in on Athena, Cesar, and their owner. Mindfulness, being in the moment and all that.

An animal shelter. That seemed like a good idea on the surface. He’d get to spend time around animals and it might even provide some structure to his life. But it would be a responsibility, and he wasn’t quite sure he was ready for responsibilities. And he’d have to interact with all those people at the shelter. He could barely interact with this one man at the dog park, how could he take a multitude of them? Still, the idea seemed enticing. He’d have to talk about it with his therapist. ”That’s a good idea. I’ll...think about it.” He said.

It seemed the man didn’t hear his question. Could he sit? It would be weird to ask again, wouldn’t it? His back was really starting to ache. The words of one of the therapists at the MNRU rang through his mind. ‘Take the initiative.’ Don’t wait for someone to tell you to do something, just do it. He didn’t need permission for every little action he wanted to take. So, as casually as he could, he took a seat on the bench, careful to keep a good bit of distance between the man and himself. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from excusing his actions. ”Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me um...sitting. My back was starting to hurt.”

He smiled as Cesar wandered over to him. He could tell the dog still wasn’t as readily sociable as Athena, but he reached a hand out anyway and let him sniff his hand, then pet his head and scratched his side. ”So many people think pitbulls are dangerous. I’ve always thought that was ridiculous.” One of the best therapy dogs he’d met was a pitbull, she was just as sweet as all of the other dogs, if not sweeter. Though he didn’t divulge the information that he’d been in contact therapy dogs. He had to at least pretend he was normal.

Isaiah. He liked that name. It had a calming sound, like a gentle gust of wind. Maybe he was overthinking the name, but for some reason it stood out to him. It wasn’t a particularly common name, and it had an awful lot of vowels, which he liked.

“Weirdo.”

He ignored Dennis’ hateful comment, as he planned to do. Instead, he focused on Isaiah’s extended hand, for a second forgetting what exactly to do with it. Then he remembered Isaiah expected him to touch it. He was getting better at physical contact, but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. Still, he ceased petting the dogs and gave Isaiah’s hand a hasty, limp shake, letting go as quickly as he could. He gave Isaiah a little smile, as if to apologize for his poor handshake.

Friend. That word reverberated throughout his mind. He didn’t have many of those. There was Sky, but that was just in the hospital, and after that stunt he pulled during the attack on the MNRU, he doubted she ever wanted to talk to him again. And of course there was Adri, but every specialist he knew told him she was a bad influence, and looking at things objectively, he’d have to agree. Friend? Could he be making an actual friend? He had to slow down on that assumption. Last time he jumped to the friendship conclusion he’d ended up high on shrooms and heroin. Still, he had hope. ”You’re not being rude at all.” Brian assured him. ”In fact, you’re probably one of the nicest people I’ve talked to in a long time.” Outside of a professional setting. He resumed petting the dogs, alternating between Cesar and Athena.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

Isaiah immediately began to let the conciliatory apologies flow from his mouth. "Oh my god, dude, of course! My bad. Take a seat. I didn't mean to be rude... which is now the second time I've had to say that to you in less than 10 minutes. I promise I'm not full of shit when I say that." He flashed the same sheepish grin Brian's way, the one he'd had plastered on his face pretty much since the moment he and Brian had begun their conversation. Man, what was going on in this guy's head that made him so self conscious and unsure of himself?

Isaiah was pleased to see that Brian seemed at least cautiously intrigued by the idea of doing some work with an animal shelter. He'd seen it a million times: people on the brink of despair brought back from the edge after having an animal, or a group of animals, to look after. Animals provide nothing but love to their owners, Isaiah knew, and they were totally dependent on said owners for food and shelter and protection and everything else. Knowing that there was a creature who loved you unconditionally and relied upon you for daily survival was a huge motivating factor for many people. Maybe it would be for Brian, too.

He began to open his mouth and rattle off a name of animal shelters Brian should check out, but he stopped himself. Isaiah had a tendency to totally railroad people in this way: if he got even an inkling that an idea he had crafted would be accepted, he'd take it and run with it. It came from a good place, a place of genuine excitement and a rush from executing plans, but people had to live their own lives. Given half the chance Isaiah would try to live everyone's lives for them, and end up pissing them off (and himself, too). Instead he chose to focus on Brian's rather insightful comment about pit bulls.

"It's the owner and the way the dog is raised, 100%," Isaiah opined with a solemn nod. "A loaded gun is only dangerous depending on who's holding it. A responsible person isn't going to cause carnage, but an irresponsible or malicious person definitely could." He reached down to give Cesar an extra scratch behind the ears. Thankfully he hadn't experienced too much pit hostility in his life, but he knew it was out there. His parents had experienced it as vets numerous times: people walking in with their pugs and beagles had a tendency to act guarded if they entered a vet waiting room and saw a pit there waiting, too.

"I hope my comment about guns didn't bother you too much," Isaiah followed suddenly. "I know it's weird around these parts, but my dad is originally from Houston and it's about the only thing still southern about him." Isaiah shrugged.

Brian's comment that he hadn't encountered anyone as nice as Isaiah in a long time made the brunette boy's heart break. What in the fuck was wrong with people? Sure, Brian was a little odd- at this point he was assuming some sort of past family trauma or mental issues, maybe a combination of both- but did that make him any less deserving of friendship and compassion? Of course not. People could be so short sighted. Kindness, his mother had often said to him, is the most valuable gift you can give someone that doesn't cost you a dime. Isaiah had mountains of kindness to share with Isaiah.

A sound towards the end of the dog park snapped him out of his thoughts, and he let out a chuckle as Athena and Cesar broke away to go join the ruckus of dogs all going after a frisbee that was currently soaring through the air. It bothered Isaiah slightly that his two dogs ran off from him after they had been called without him giving the "at ease" whistle, but they were still young and it would be unrealistic to expect them to be perfect. He looked at Brian as the dogs ran off and motioned to them with a shrug as if to say, "What can ya do?"





Brian Harris

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[Brian Harris]

Brian laughed a little as Isaiah’s apology poured out of his mouth. It seemed Brian wasn’t the only one who felt the need to ask forgiveness for minor errors, though it seemed Isaiah did so out of social awareness, while Brian did so compulsively out of a need to excuse his own perceived guilt. ”Don’t worry. You probably just didn’t hear me. I tend to be kind of...quiet. You’re not being rude. It’s just me.” He desperately didn’t want Isaiah to feel like he was being rude. That would imply his very presence was making someone feel bad, and he really really couldn’t handle that.

”Don’t be hard on yourself BB.”

“BB?”

“You know, like baby, but cuter.”

“Brian is not an infant.”

”Indeed.”

He shook his head, as if to shake off the voices. He focused intensely on the dogs, and found they brought a smile to his face. It was so easy to make a dog happy. They craved your approval, your attention. All you had to do was smile at them and their tail would start wagging. So much simpler than a human. He would get a dog if he had the money and the confidence to have responsibility over a living creature’s wellbeing. Maybe, in the far future, when he got a job and a better apartment, he’d get a cat.

Brian nodded in agreement at Isaiah’s comment about raising a dog. ”It’s definitely nurture over nature. No dog is born bad. Isn’t that right, girl?” He cooed, scratching Athena on the back of the neck. Immediately, his face went red. Was it weird to baby talk another person’s dog? He tried to recall instances when he’d seen someone coo at a dog that wasn’t their own, then realized he didn’t have enough experience in the “real world” to make that judgement. He just bit his lip nervously and hoped he did the right thing.

He laughed appropriately at Isaiah’s remark about his father. ”No, I’m not bothered at all.” I’m not that delicate. He thought.

“Yes you are.”

Brian shook his head again, and again turned his attention back to the dogs. Unfortunately, he’d seen one too many guns living in the back alleys of San Francisco. After he’d gotten his powers, he’d been able to confiscate these guns, crush them into a little metal pulp. He figured it was the least he could do to keep murder and mayhem off the streets. He didn’t like guns, he didn’t like any kind of violence, but he wasn’t scared of it anymore. After the Event, there was very little that could harm him besides his own mind.

Brian’s heart sank as the dogs ran off ran toward the frisbee. His immediate thought was that they didn’t like him, and thus ran away, but he realized that was ridiculous. Just another bad thought barreling its way into his brain. Quickly and efficiently, he swept it aside, priding himself on his ability to manage his own mind.

He looked at Isaiah. He should say something, silence was uncomfortable. He was told people liked to talk about themselves, so he supposed he should ask Isaiah something about himself. He umed and ahed for a few seconds trying to think of a question. Finally, he landed on, ”Have you always lived in San Francisco?” Picking up on Isaiah’s comment about his dad. He figured it was a vanilla enough question.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

"Yeah, I was born and raised here," Isaiah responded to his new friend. He talked about his childhood growing up in the Bay and all the changes he'd seen; he talked about his family, and his parents' veterinary practice; he talked about his siblings and what it was like to be the youngest of four. Even though his life experiences had been pretty mild compared to some, he found that he was rarely asked to talk about his past and it felt good to do so. "What about you?" he turned the question to Brian. Isaiah thought he had the look of someone who had spent the majority of his life on the West Coast, but it was always hard to tell.

The sun had reached its peak in the sky and was beginning its slow descent back beyond the horizon, and Isaiah glanced down at his Apple Watch and realized he and Brian had spent the better part of an hour and a half sitting here shooting the breeze. Isaiah prided himself on being an easy conversationalist and easy to approach person, but even he wouldn't have expected to have made friends with a person like Brian when he started his day. Yet here they were, enjoying each other's company, reminding Isaiah that first impressions could very often be wrong ones.

His mind wandered to all the other things he could be doing: groceries to be bought, laundry to be done, bathrooms to be cleaned. But he decided to follow some advice he had been hearing from multiple different sources lately and try to live in the moment. It was a beautiful afternoon, the dogs were enjoying themselves, and whatever tasks Isaiah had to accomplish would be there whether or not he left two hours ago or two hours from now, but in two hours from now it might be raining or the dogs might be tired and he wouldn't be able to enjoy the moment he was so relishing right now. So it ended up being an obvious choice, and he stretched his arms over his head as he rearranged himself on the bench he'd been occupying since they arrived.

He was trying to think of some other topic to engage Brian in when a large pop rang out from behind him. He craned his neck around as fast as he could just in time to see an explosion rocking a building across the street from the park. Other people at the dog park had noticed the commotion too, and all the dogs started to bark and whine and become anxious. People from across the street were pouring out of the building- Isaiah couldn't tell if it was a bank or office building or what- looking disheveled, screaming in pain, grasping at body parts.

Isaiah felt his heart rate double in a period of three seconds. Something involving a metahuman? he asked himself, hoping that the answer would be no. He turned to Brian and asked "What the fuck was that?" with a scared edge to his voice.


Brian Harris

IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD

✪

[Brian Harris]

Brian smiled as the words started pouring out of Isaiah’s mouth. He’d clearly relaxed around Brian. He was no longer the socially inept weirdo in a dog park with no dogs. Now he was just a person, a fellow human being on par with all the others. It was a feeling he was unaccustomed to, but it was one he greatly appreciated. He was always either patient or weirdo schizo. Now he was...friend? Acquaintance at the very least. It was pleasant.

He found himself hanging onto Isaiah’s every word, absorbing as much information as he could. He didn’t mind just listening. It was far less stressful than talking. Overall, he was just glad someone was treating him normally. Even though Isaiah’s past was nothing special, Brian found it supremely engaging. Even the voices quieted down to listen to him talk. Well, they probably ceased talking because Brian’s attention was focused elsewhere, but Brian liked to think they were listening along with him.

”Oh, um…” Brian muttered as the question was turned on him. What was he supposed to say? ‘Yeah I grew up here. My father killed himself while I was in the womb and my mother was abusive.’ People weren’t supposed that kind of stuff the first time they met a person.

”Poor Brian.” Clara lamented.

“Don’t patronize him.”

“I’m not.”

”Uh, yeah I grew up here. In kind of the lower class area. Um…”

“You going to bitch about your past you edgy little fuck?”

”Calling the kettle black much?”

“Brian is not a kettle.”

”My past is a little...dark. I don’t know if you want to hear it.” He cringed. ”Sorry, I know you just opened up and everything but, um-” He was startled by a loud sound behind him. He quickly looked toward the sound and saw the explosion, the people pouring out, covered in soot and blood.

”You’re up, big boy.”

”I don’t know.” Brian responded. He got up from the bench, expanding the muscles in his legs as he stood until they were large and veiny, three times their regular size. ”Stay here.” He instructed Isaiah. He took off running in the direction in the explosion.

He wove quickly through the crowd of people pouring out of the building. He couldn’t help them. He wished he could, but he didn’t have any medical knowledge, and he figured picking them up and running them to the hospital would cause more problems. Plus, there were too many, he couldn’t help them all.

Entering the building, he noticed it was a bank. He wasn’t really paying attention before. A large section in the middle of the building was simply a mess of soot and rubble. A tiny, malnourished looking woman wearing a ski mask was yelling at an injured teller. “Where’s the safe!? Where’s the fucking safe!?” She screamed at the top of her lungs. Long, dirty, brunette hair stuck out of her mask. The teller was simply cowering. She pointed to a spot next to the teller and a small but loud explosion appeared where she pointed. “Where’s the fucking safe!?” She pointed at the teller’s head.

Brain rushed at the woman, aiming to tackle her.

“Hypocrite.” Dennis sneered.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

It surprised Isaiah to see Brian jump into action so quickly after they heard a loud explosion going off behind them. A few minutes ago Isaiah would have guessed that Brian would be uncertain and hesitant in a situation like this, and yet here he was trying to take control. He'd even instructed Isaiah to stay where he was. Did the guy have some kind of savior/messiah complex? Or maybe this guy was actually a hero? It would make sense, especially if Brian had some sort of advanced mental ability that made interaction with other people difficult. Isaiah knew that many awesome powers came with unfortunate side effects.

He didn't have time to ask. In a flash Brian was gone, rushing towards the explosion while everyone else rushed out. The dog park was clearing up fast as people snatched up their pets and hurried off to their cars or down the street. Athena and Cesar could sense the anxiety and tension coursing through Isaiah's body, and in turn they shuffled back and forth uneasily. Isaiah stuck one hand down to pet the both of them, his eyes still firmly fixed on the bank and where Brian had entered the building. What should he do? Turn around and go home? Wait for Brian to come back?

Or should he try to rush in and help? It made sense, in a way. If Brian was a hero- the idea seemed more and more likely to Isaiah with each passing second- then it might score Isaiah some major brownie points if he were to help him out. After all, wasn't the whole point of going out with a mask on at night? When he began his life as a vigilante, he always told himself that he was doing it with the ultimate goal of becoming a hero. Now he was presented with the opportunity to impress a real life hero, someone he had unknowingly befriended when they were out of costume!

Before he had really had enough time to think about what he was doing, Isaiah had reached into the backpack he always carried with him and pulled out a black ski mask, sliding it onto his face in a single motion. Subconsciously his power was already going to work on Cesar and Athena, and he could feel their energies growing and responding to his ability. They were running towards the bank in a matter of seconds, the dogs already twice their normal size and growing still. In a few moments their physical forms would be so different that anyone who had seen them at the dog park wouldn't be able to recognize them.

When the three of them cleared the rubble and peered into the open bank, they saw a woman in a similar style ski mask screaming for access to the safe, and Brian charging her clearly intending to tackle her to the ground. Isaiah gave his dogs the signal that meant "wait/guard." He would stand back at the ready to provide back up for Brian if he needed it, but for the moment he wouldn't interfere.


Brian Harris

IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD

✪

[Brian Harris]

Just as Brian was about to leap towards the woman, she turned around, seeming to just notice him, and hastily pointed a finger in his direction.

”Watch out!”

Brian was just barely able to stop himself as an explosion went off just in front of him. His face and upper body became covered in soot. Once the smoke cleared, he could see a small hole made in the floor in front of him.

”Saved ya!” Clara announced proudly.

“Don’t pat yourself on the back. Brian had it under control. Didn’t you Brian?”

”Shut up!” Brian ordered. The woman pointed a finger at him again and he awkwardly tumbled out of the way. She growled, training her finger on him once again. He quickly jumped backward, the extra strength in his legs allowing him increased speed and mobility. Brian was nowhere near professionally trained, and while his increased muscles gave him a significant advantage in combat, his lack of skill could be quite the hindrance. He attributed his lack of exploded limbs so far to, at least in part, luck. The woman’s clear lack of expertise didn’t hurt either.

Brain was about the rush at the woman again when he noticed another presence in the room. He turned his head to look behind him. Three other presences. A man in a ski mask and two monstrous beings. They all looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He squinted his eyes. ”Isaiah?” He asked. He had the same clothes, the same build, and those monsters. They looked canine were they… ”Cesar? Athena?” Were Isaiah’s dogs metahumans? Metadogs? Did metadogs exist?

Before he could study them any longer, he felt a sudden burning pain in his right leg. He yelped, and lifted his leg. It was bleeding profusely. A large area of skin on his calf was just gone, as was a good chunk of his flesh.

“You are hurt.”

“Oh god I feel nauseous.”

There was a small hole right next to his injured leg.

“Her powers are becoming less potent.” Tect observed.

”I hope so.” Brian quickly tore his eyes away from his injury. He could focus on that later. He was in the middle of a battle. Shrinking the muscles in his legs somewhat, he increased the muscles in his arms, back, and core so he resembled a tiny, flesh colored hulk. He picked up a piece of rubble, one big enough to knock out the woman, but not big enough to kill or seriously injure her, and chucked it at her head. It flew through the air fast enough to knock her out, but not fast enough to kill. She quickly pointed at it and the piece of rubble exploded into a million pieces right before it reached her head.

”A little help!?” Brian requested of Isaiah and his dogs and he dodged out of the way of yet another tiny explosion.

Isaiah Moore

[Isaiah Moore]

[googlefont=Inconsolata]

Whatever lingering doubts that Brian was a metahuman and a hero were wiped away from Isaiah's mind. His new friend was incredible, shifting and maximizing different muscles and muscle groups across his body. While Isaiah loved his power and wouldn't trade it for anything, it did bother him knowing that his own physical body was still very human, very weak, very exposed. If a bomb exploded too close to him he could be done for. He relied on Athena and Cesar completely for his well being when he was out in his mask, and it was a major drawback.

The criminal woman was looking more unhinged as the moments went by, her eyes clearly possessed by a type of crazy Isaiah didn't like to mess with. It was easy to see, even with her wearing the ski mask. The few teeth she had were rotten and ragged, twisted into a terrible smile like some knock-off Disney villain. Isaiah surmised that in her life before powers she'd probably been a user, and from the looks of it she still was. There was little reason to doubt she was trying to rob this bank to pay off a debt or further fuel a habit.

It took only a few moments for the tide to start turning- at one point Brian seemed to have the upper hand with his obviously enhanced physical strength, and in the blink of an eye the woman had him on the defensive, a gaping wound in his leg. Her power- was she shooting invisible projectiles that exploded on impact, or creating localized explosions within a certain radius of her body?- was difficult to track because of its invisibility component. Even unhinged and high as a kite, this woman's power made her dangerous.

No sooner had the words left Brian's lips than Isaiah snapped out of his inaction and whistled to the dogs. Cesar and Athena had been together since they were small puppies; he'd gotten Athena first and then Cesar less than two months later. They were finely attuned to one another, could anticipate each other's movements and had a natural tendency to work in tandem. In fact, Isaiah had begun training multiple different dogs and stuck with these two because of their natural teamwork. It would come in handy getting them out of their current situation.

They charged in unison, Cesar going for the direct hit while Athena circled a bit to the right and flanked the woman on her side. The woman's smile twisted into an uneasy frown as her eyes darted nervously between Isaiah's two beasts, at this point as tall as Shire horses, as wide as SUVs with jagged bones, exposed muscles, and ferocious jaws. The people unlucky enough to have been in the bank were shrieking in terror. Isaiah wished he could scream out to reassure them that he and Brian were the good guys.

When they were about 15 feet off the woman pointed a finger from each hand toward either dog. Isaiah hollered at them, hoping they would understand to either change course or brace for the impact. True to form, Athena was perceptive enough to stall slightly left when the woman's hand went up. A small explosion popped less than a foot from where she had veered, a bit of the remaining hair on her body singed. Cesar, on the other hand, took the impact head on, and it slowed him down for only a moment before he regained speed and continued his charge. Fear overtaking the woman now, she did something surprisingly strategic.

As Athena lowered her body to hit the woman with all the force of her massive body, the woman sent a bomb down towards where one of Athena's gigantic paws was set to fall. The woman had timed it perfectly- not even a full second before Athena's foot hit the ground, the woman's explosion went off and left an uneven hole in the floor that was not unlike a pot hole, causing Athena to trip and slide. Almost as if the woman had planned it that way, Athena's body went tumbling into Cesar's, knocking both dogs to the ground and getting their limbs tangled up.

It bought her maybe 20 seconds, but the woman tried to capitalize on it. The money forgotten, she made a mad dash for the opening she had created when she'd first broken into the bank and took a run for it. When she had just gotten out of sight Cesar and Athena untangled themselves and bounded to Isaiah's side, clearly keen for the hunt but waiting for their master's command. Isaiah turned to Brian with a smile and gestured toward the street. "Shall we?"

Brian Harris

IT
ISN'T
IN
MY
BLOOD

✪