People immediately avoided him, forming a veritable bubble around him as he passed through the crowds. Not because he was particularly unusual-looking - certainly stranger things than a hunched, drooling, muttering half-weasel looking creature had passed through the decks of Star City on the average day - but because he exuded a particular aura of wrongness about him. It could be the eggs that he carried. During the pine marten-shifter's explorations of the Scream, Tud had come across a strange crack in the hull of the ship, somewhere near the darkest heart of her. It was barely big enough for him to squeeze through in his sinuous marten form but the strangeness of the crack was enough to pique his interest. It smelled like food, at first...

Once inside, Tud wasn't quite sure what he was smelling exactly. It certainly wasn't appetizing anymore, it was the rank stench of long rotten meat at the peak of its odoriferousness. The walls of the narrow crack were filled with skittering the likes of which Tud was more used to being the cause of, rather than the witness. What was worse, it unnerved him. Tud never got nervous, he was the cause of nervousness and uncertainty. It was like he was being pursued through the crack, he began to scrabble faster until he fell muzzle-first into a nest of some tiny, stone-like and beetle black eggs all surrounding a larger, and if possible even blacker egg. He sniffed them delicately, his fear momentarily forgotten. A sudden desire to take the largest one filled him. Carefully he took one of the tiny eggs along with the larger into his mouth and turned to leave. Then a terrible urge to flee came, to squirm as fast as his tiny marten feet could carry him out of that crack and into the relative warmth and safety of the engine room. So he did.

Once he exited the strange crack, Illtud resumed his half-shifted form and turned to examine it further, only to find it had disappeared. Obviously this was curious, but Tud paid it no heed as he was once again filled with the desire to care for his new-found eggs. He carefully carried them to the hovel he called his room and swaddled them gently in the cleanest scrap of fabric he owned. Tud never found any need to use the ship's lights - his own night vision was adequate to guide him through the corridors - but he was gripped with an obsession to keep the eggs in utter darkness. So he did.

His obsession with the eggs grew over time, so that his chief concern was with their care. Of course that means that when Tud left the ship, the eggs came with him, protectively bundled in several layers of cloth and carried in a satchel across his back. He had taken the utmost care to ensure they never saw one beam of light as he carried them. They seemed to have some kind of strange, sickening or frightening aura that hovered around them, so people avoided Tud on an unconscious level, based on an uneasy, nauseous feeling in the stomach or a clammy chill on the skin. Everyone cut the odd, slavering weasel-shifter a wide berth along the thoroughfares.

Illtud had always been an oddball and so was used to the avoidance of others. He didn't really remember much about his life before the military's experimentation had rendered him in his current state. Consequently, and though he knew his mannerisms weren't exactly normal, Illtud only knew how to act and react in his unusual way. He delighted in disturbing others by causing potentially disastrous mischief and widespread panic. Chaos filled him with glee. This was no unusual trait, to be sure. However, those who exhibit don't exactly engender themselves to those around them. Illtud often felt strangely misunderstood by his crewmates, as if they might come to understand his abnormal ways if they took a moment to speak to him - beyond shouting curses at his back.

Once again, Illtud was quite used to this avoidance and even dislike directed at him. He'd often felt that, if he could just find someone who understood him, who was better at communicating than he was, others might also come to understand his strange mannerisms and realize the method to his madness. Nevermind that Tud didn't actually know what this method was. He was kinda hoping that someone on the outside looking in could give him a hand with that matter.

Illtud didn't really know where he was headed, all he knew was he needed to go somewhere that wasn't the Scream. Part of him knew this was a different kind of insanity than his usual brand, but the greater part was lost in this strange urge to go to a particular place. As it turned out, that particular place was the Twisted Fate. Tud exchanged one ship for another, one far more dangerous.