Cretaceous Conundrum

Ignatius had known his entire life what his power would be. Or more specifically, he knew he would be some kind of dinosaur shifter, but not what kind. Paltiel's didn't find out what kind they were until they finally shifted, and he'd been rather proud when he'd shifted into something so fearsome. It was a point of pride for him - he was the tyrant king after all.

Anyone who had been on the island long term would probably know just what the Paltiel's were, but it wasn't immediately obvious when meeting Ignatius. He certainly looked non-human, with black sclera and sharp teeth front and center, but precious few people knew what a tyrannosaurus looked like enough to recognize his features. Being fair, he couldn't even say for sure that what he was becoming was a T-rex - it was possible he was some previously unknown to science variant - but it was close enough, and the skeletons matched up.

He knew that the meeting was 'personal', not business, but he knew little beyond that. His secretary had booked it, and generally 'personal' meant 'someone soliciting donations or help'. Most could be dealt with quickly, but when he glanced up at the appointments start and saw a boy - a very young boy, who couldn't have been more than fifteen at the most - he was forced to revise his thoughts on the meeting.

What was he here for, exactly? Asking him to come in? Needed to shadow someone in a field of his choice? Ignatius paused for several long seconds before he leaned back in his chair, dark eyes sweeping over the boy. Pretty much his opposite - small and fair, pale and delicate like a tiny flower.

He couldn't tell if he was actually short, or just young.

"That would be me, yes. Come in and take a seat." He said, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk. They were a bit too large for the boy, but then they were generally used by adults. Everything in his office was tasteful and well done, although he didn't go out of his way to make things look expensive. They were simply high quality, and carefully chosen.

Ignatius had spent his formative years short. Most people didn't believe that - they had the idea that he'd always been as tall as he was, towering over everyone. He'd grown much like his dinosaur did - fifteen years of near-midget status, the shortest of the class, and then the most brutal growth spurt of any known species. He'd gone from just over four feet to an even seven feet in around two years, shooting up like a bean sprout.

The boy who'd entered his office reminded him of himself, at that age - only he'd been even shorter, and a great deal more miserable. He seemed to have good manners, and Ignatius's eyes were sharp as he watched him. Sitting up straight, hands in his lap - a good kid, one way or another. The question remained though: What did he actually want?

His right eyebrow slowly trended upwards as the boy talked. No, he had no idea about the 'incident at the school'. He had no children or younger siblings, so goings on at the school were mostly beyond him. He only heard about the biggest things - but the clarification indicated that yes, it was one of the biggest things. A family friend had brought the incident up in passing, based on the assumption that it had been a Paltiel behind the incident.

Both his eyebrows were well up by that point.

"You are a tyrannosaurus shifter then?" Not a Paltiel - the Breckenridge name didn't ring any bells as part of his extended family. Were there two families, or was Oliver a one-off in a family that was otherwise unrelated?

If it hadn't been expected in his family that everyone would know things like the names of obscure dinosaurs, he might have actually been impressed by the way he so easily named them off. He was impressed by the explanation - that he could shift not into one specific dinosaur, but an entire line of them.

"I suppose that would make you a shapeshifter as opposed to a strict weresaur or whatever the technical term is." Dinothrope? Saurianthrope? Considering that science didn't even know they existed, no one had bothered to come up with a formal term.

"Similar enough, regardless." He settled back into his chair, feeling a good deal more relaxed now that he knew why the boy was there. It wasn't hard to take a guess - he was here because he'd heard that Ignatius was one. They were kindred spirits, in a way.

"Yes, I am a tyrannosaurus shifter. That's the only other form I can take, and I share a certain amount of instinct with it, even when not shifted." He had a good handle on it though, so it rarely came out unless he was shifted. "I presume you're having issues with your instincts?" A safe guess, considering he'd struggled with that for years.

He was ashamed. Ignatius had to wonder what exactly had happened that it would make him look so embarrassed, so mortified by his own self. He didn't have to wait for long though, and Oliver went on to explain to him without needing to be directly prompted.

Ignatius remained silent for the duration of the story. It was really only part of a story, but it was enough that it was clear what the rest of the story was. Someone had died, or else been so horribly wounded that he had never recovered. Ignatius could not directly relate, considering he'd never actually gone rogue, but others in his family sometimes did, and needed to be brought down by whoever was with them at a time.

He considered his own answer for a moment without speaking.

"I can't say anything with absolute certainty - the mechanics by which you are a dinosaur are different from the mechanics of how I am a dinosaur. That said, some parts seem more or less universal." He paused for a moment, glancing around his office before letting out a little huff. He had wanted something to demonstrate with, but it wasn't as easy as if Oliver was a dog or something.

"If I had a steak here - a big chunk of meat, nearly raw - you'd probably feel similar urges to me. Acting as if you're completely human and locking up your other sides will likely end poorly. Humans are animals, and our instincts differ from those of, say, a T-rex. A T-rex has very specific, base instincts. Not much in the way of brain power, but lots of hardwired instincts that don't leave room for thinking. If something is small and tries to run, chase it. If it looks like meat, eat it. If it fights back, it's probably not worth it." Simple instincts were the key to a predator like the T-rex, and they were things that Ignatius had always struggled with.

"There's a lot to mastering that side of yourself, but to start I'd try and focus on appeasing it. Think of a lion - a lion might hurt a human if it's hungry or starved, but a well fed lion isn't going to do anything unless you piss it off. The same is true for your Other Self'." You could practically hear the capitals in the way he said it, the significance of it.

"So appease it. Eat raw meat. Eat mostly meat. Honestly, ninety percent of my diet is pure meat, and it keeps the instincts from rising too high. Indulge - let it out sometimes, at designated safe places deep in the woods. Think of it like an animal companion. If you go out of your way to make sure it's happy, it won't make trouble."

That had been the secret to his success, and as far as he was concerned, there was no reason it wouldn't work for Oliver as well.