Date: 2009-11-02 10:20 pm (UTC)
Sark grits his teeth, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, his fists clenched at his sides. He can't think of a single thing to do- all he has is his mouth, once again.

He's about to shoot something back when a clock somewhere hits midnight. At that point, all that comes out of his mouth is a strangled, suppressed groan as a shift takes hold of him. It's the same violent, involuntary shift that happens when you've been tasered, but this actually hurts more. He tries to stop it, but it won't stop, and he settles for willing himself into tiger shape. At least as a tiger, he has some defense...

It's a white tiger that collapses into a heap when the bone-crunching shift concludes. Sark trips over his tattered clothes, trying to get up onto his feet, but he stumbles and collapses. The world's spinning and he's suddenly really ill and he can't think of a reason why. He staggers to his feet, his legs shaky and takes a step closer to Clark, growling.

He falls over onto his side a few seconds later, the very picture of pathetic tiger.
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Julian Sark

May 2018

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