Gardenia Aqueducts
"A new meaning to Wet Dreams."
Wet. That was the understatement of the century. Water rushed over him like a bad dream, gasping and clawing, not knowing if he will live to see another day. Fear was all he could feel in his heart, as the bitter, stinging cold was relentless in it's efforts. The efforts being to keep him cold and damp. Where was he? What was going on? All questions are irrelevant, What's going to happen now? Is all that is relevant. Memories, memories more like nightmares were abuzz in his head. Such dark and terrible thoughts, one's that small children would claim to be nightmares. Fortunately for them, they weren't living one.
Jean-Pierre raised his head out of the rushing water. He appeared to be in some river that has...walls? Despite the oddity of a river needing walls like a house, he was nevertheless swept into a strong current. A current created by this blasted rainfall. He tried his best to swim against this current, such effort was folly. There was no chance of fighting it, he must allow it to carry him. He was swept away as the water rushed to an inevitable stop. Well a stop for solid debris. He was whisked down what he considered to be a waterfall. The drop was angled more like a slide into a river that was heading for bars. Bars like in a jail cell. Jean-Pierre was unceremoniously pushed against it. He held on to the bars and readied himself as he used them to lift his upper torso.
Here he was stuck between a rushing current and iron bars. The current was far too strong for him to swim back but as luck would have it a side walk was there. He need only reach it. Using the bars he shimmied across the river and placed a hand on the side walk. He then proceeded to climb by placing a foot on the bar and lifting with his arm on to the sidewalk. Soon both hands found solid ground as he pushed himself upwards by using the bars and his feet. He then rolled to the side and panted in exhaustion. He coughed several times exhaling the water caught in his lungs. He rolled on to his stomach as he finished his bout of coughing. He had no idea where he was, all he knows is that it's raining. He needed to find shelter.
Despite their being walls there was no ceiling for the river...well, ceiling that isn't on his side of the bars. Seeing as the river runs into some tunnel he went to enter. The bars though did not leave ample space for him to squeeze through. He tried but could not even fit half his body through. He then shook on the bars like a wild ape trying to pry them loose. Alas he hadn't that kind of strength to bend and break metal...but someone did. He dared not think of using HIS power...but what choice was there? He could call for help. Not exhausting all options Jean-Pierre yelled, "Help!" "Help!" "Hel-" He then suddenly coughed. His voice was coarse and in pain. He began yelling for help but couldn't manage a decent volume. No one did come when he did yell.
It seemed the rain was beginning to make him sick. He sneezed as he felt his nose swell with mucus. Would he catch his death out here? It was then a familiar sound echoed within. He shook his head but then violently twisted his neck. He herked and jerked like a pigeon bobbing it's head, and then his eyes...changed color. They were gold as his teeth changed slightly to fangs and claws began to emerge. Still having some control he lifted his arm as it began to bulge with new muscle and then he swiped. He dented the bar. With a roar he placed his hands upon the bars and with ferocity ripped them out of their sockets. He tossed them aside abruptly and ran into the tunnel. (Entered Gardenia Sewers).
Gardenia Sewers
Once he entered the tunnel he wrestled with himself. He fought against the furious thoughts running through his mind. He was subject to remember the beast's anger. Anger over death. He could barely hear his thoughts, as IT'S words meshed with an eldritch voice. The voice speaks of conflict and factions. He understood very little but did gaze upon his hand to see an odd symbol (â). He wasn't sure at first but he's seen it before. If only his mind was clear. His claws began to grow and retract, as he fought against himself. He hadn't known it but he soon lost himself in a labyrinth of tunnels, all of which are underneath a city.
His fangs grew and reduced his eyes, change from bestial to human. He roared and then yelled as his body faltered. He changed from human towards some sort of mutant, and back again. Towards the end he won...as he collapsed on the sidewalk. He heard the waters of the sewers as he fell unconscious. The voice returned. He was to be a soldier, in an ancient war...his side was waiting. Jean-Pierre didn't know what to make of it...all he could do at the moment was rest. And rest he did.