setting
Index was once a small and close-knit community, but the town located on the western side of Washington state has grown in recent years beyond anyone's expectations. It is the ideal place for those who work in Seattle but can't afford the city's high real estate prices, and for others the natural beauty attracts them to the town. And Index truly is a beautiful place - surrounded by thick evergreen trees, tall mountains and glistening rivers and lakes. While weather is typically rainy with overcast skies even this does nothing to take away from the beauty of the town, and it is only highlighted further when the heavy snow graces the town and caps the mountains in winter. To many, Index would seem like a paradise. And yet lurking beneath this visual beauty there is more to this town than anyone might ever imagine...

Current Time in Index, Washington:
rules
PLAYBYS: Sims from the games Sims 2, 3 and 4 are used to visually represent player’s original characters (no characters from within the franchise are allowed). But, you do not need these games to join and roleplay! If you wish, you can post a thread in our out of character / general forum and list as many physical details about your character as you wish. The members of Index will happily try and make a character for you, and you can choose which one you feel best fits your vision.

AVATARS: Avatars should display your characters face clearly and should be at least 200 pixels tall, and 200 pixels wide.

THREADING & POSTING: When threading with multiple characters, it is important that you post only when it is your turn. This can be acheived by taking note of who has posted before you, and remember you are to always post after them. If you were the thread starter, then it is your turn after the final person has joined your thread.

When creating a thread you are required to place a tag before the title. Here are a list of types of thread you can create and how to tag each one:

[Open] Anyone is welcome to join your thread, with no limit on the number of characters.
[Open - #] Anyone is welcome to join your thread, but there is a limit on the number of characters who can join. Replace the # with how many extra characters you will allow to join your thread.
[Private] Only specific characters can join your thread.
[Closed] This tag should be used for threads that only involve your character.

ACTIVITY: To keep threads moving, people are encouraged to post within three days when it is their turn. If you do not post within three days, and you have not asked people to wait for you, it is possible you will be skipped. Keep in mind this is just a suggestion. While we'd love for everyone to be active every day, we understand that real life and other hobbies are just as important, if not more. We want you to be active because you want to be, not because a rule is telling you to be.

MATURITY RATING: Public threads should all be PG. If roleplayers above the age of 18 wish to post content that could be could be considered graphic then it should be hidden from view using the [hide] [/hide] code, which will enable only those in the threads and administrators to view the content.


 [Private] Hurts Like Hell - Page 5

[Private] Hurts Like Hell

Page 5 of 6 Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6  Next

View previous topic View next topic Go down

avatar

Re: [Private] Hurts Like Hell

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Nov 30, 2014 6:21 pm

Equilibrium. Right, got it. Gonna remember that. I said, throwing him a quick, unintentional smile as I focused on trying to commit the name to memory. Fuck, I didn’t want it turning into one of those situations where you forgot, but still kinda remembered something. Tip of your tongue bullshit. I was tempted to ask him about more bands but, damn I was feeling really fucking groggy, maybe I’d just be giving myself a fucking information overload or some shit like that. Even just thinking about it gave me a damn headache.
 
Don’t sweat it, I thought the guy was fucking nuts. It was in my yard and he was some critic of his way to a gallery or some shit. Saw it, stopped and knocked on my door. Fucking weird. Offers me four, I say five... shit I mean I think part of me thought it was a fucking joke. But whatever right? I got a sweet ass fifty inch high def with the money so I don’t care if he was a fucking idiot. There was no fucking question that he’d been a fucking idiot, but I’d gotten a TV that was fucking great for watching baseball on.
 
When he said forget it I shrugged, all to fucking happy to oblige if it meant an end to this whole weird conversation. Not that what we were talking about was weird but... just the fucking fact that we were talking in general, no alcohol involved. Whatever, I blamed it on whatever the fuck Orazio has used on me earlier. But what he said about the pack, about not liking them and just... benefitting from their existence since you were stuck with them anyway. That was the point he was trying to make right? Shit, that kinda makes sense. I looked at him, as if I was fucking amazed he’d thought that up in the first place. I’ll... damn, I’ll think about it. I mean... you might have a point. They were still a bunch of fucking morons... but shit you never knew right?
 
I glared at him when he opened his mouth again, just not fucking able to believe that he’d actually said that. Like, I hadn’t gone fucking with him when he’d been all ‘I don’t want you to die boo fucking hoo’. Dick. I reached over, thumping his shoulder with my good arm and really not giving a shit. What the fuck are you, five? I shook my head, settling back into the chair but then turning away when the corners of my lips started to twitch.



 I didn’t drop any fucking acid. Fuck, use your brain. Orazio said there was something in the wounds he couldn’t- couldn’t identify. That was literally the best idea I could fucking come up with right now. Shit, it was the only idea that actually explained what the hell was fucking happening to me right now. I growled at his reaction, wondering what the fuck was up with him anyway.  You try being fucking calm when you’re hallucination against your goddamn fucking will. I spat, voice muffled from my head being securely behind my knees. At least I was fucking trying to hold shit together. Even if it didn’t fucking last long.

I didn’t even listen to him when he spoke, his voice sounding distorted to a point where it was hard to fucking understand what he was saying. Still, I felt fucking relieved when he finally got out of his damn truck, even if I was fast forgetting why that was important. I watched him go for the key, not even caring how he fucking knew. I rushed past him as soon as the door was open, not bothering to turn on the hall light and going straight past the stairs into the living area. Close the goddamn door! I said as I went, not stopping long enough to check if he did. Remains of a fire still burned softly in the stove, the room warm and way fucking better than outside hand been. The couch, that was where I needed to go. I got down on my knees in front of it, reaching underneath and grabbing the case I knew was there. A few sheets of sketches fell off and to the floor but fuck, I barely noticed.
 
As quickly as I fucking could I flipped the clasps open, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of my katana. Something made me think bullets wouldn’t work against the shapes. I grabbed the hilt, pulling it from the soft, silken black padding that lined the case. The glow of the stove caught on it as I moved it, catching my attention and finally making me feel calm for the first time. Calm enough that I regained a little bit of fucking sense, enough that I remembered I wasn’t alone in the house. I sprang to my feet, looking around and spotting him- once again faceless. I freaked, dropping the sword and backing away until the back of my knees hit the other couch, the one in front of the stove. It was familiar, comfortable and familiar. Clarity returned again in a brief moment. What the fuck is happening to me? I asked, knowing I should fucking hate all of this but too confused to understand anything. I drew my legs up onto the seat and cradled my injured arm with my good one. I could feel the moment of being clear-headed leaving again and all I fucking knew was that I was goddamn helpless, couldn’t stop it.

Back to top Go down

avatar

Re: [Private] Hurts Like Hell

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Wed Jan 07, 2015 11:05 pm

Well don't fucking snap at me I'm not the one acting like a fucking psycho here. I retorted, feeling really fucking fed up with what was happening already. If I was smart I would've knocked her ass out the second she started touching my face. The only thing more personal than putting your hands on someones face is reaching straight for their fucking dick. Not that I'd mind if she did that, unless of course she had bad intentions, then yeah, I'd probably mind.

I didn't rush after her, but I didn't take my time either. I wanted to absorb my surroundings a bit. It was a good fucking distraction from her sudden mental breakdown actually. Her place reminded me of some hippie shop you'd find in Arizona. It wasn't even the girly ass appearance that hit me first, it was the abundant smell of female that was causing a reaction in me that was purely wolf and really fucking inappropriate considering the circumstances. I wouldn't say it smelled like perfume, it just... It just smelled like her... Yeah or something like that...

I closed the door without letting her bossy ass attitude affect me. My eyes wandered around as I did so, as if my body was on auto pilot while my mind tried to soak in the place. It didn't feel like home to me. Some places just gave off that home vibe but hers didn't. Not for me, it was too... It just gave me a weird feeling.

My wandering mind was shut down really fucking fast when I realized what she was doing. Was that crazy bitch really holding a fucking sword? Shit maybe it wasn't a sword. Guns were my expertise, giant knives weren't. Either way it was about time for me to make a decision. Either get the fuck out of here as fast as I possibly could to avoid her losing her marbles over some imaginary goblin and slicing my head off, or try and take the goddamned weapon from her hands. The second option was stupid, I knew it was stupid, yet it was still a fucking option.

I groaned as I stepped forward, a piece of paper crumpling under my foot. I glanced at it but didn't look for too long, it wasn't a good idea to keep my eyes off of the nut bag holding a deadly weapon for more than a second. Put that fucking thing down Oveyx. Maybe hostility wasn't smart when she was clearly wielding something and I had nothing but my own flesh as armor against it. Then again maybe being nice would be fucking stupid too, clearly her mind wasn't fucking normal right now. Maybe even if it was attitude, it was what I needed to give her to give her some sense of normalcy. Fuck if I knew, I didn't deal with crazy fucks on a daily basis. My experience with this kind of shit was pretty damned limited.

I stepped forward again, slowly with my palms facing her. She stepped back and the weapon fell from her hands. No swift movements. Fuck this was like dealing with a lion or bear or some shit. Fuck if I wanted to be a lion tamer I would be one for fucking fucks sake. I knelt down slowly to retrieve the weapon and moved it away from her, putting my body between her and the weapon to make sure she wouldn't suddenly freak the fuck out again and reach for it to turn me into a wolf shish kabob.

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you but... - Do you have any more weapons in the house? Step one, remove the weapons, step two catch her when her guard is down and lock her ass in her bedroom so she can sleep it off. Step three, whiskey.

Back to top Go down

avatar

Re: [Private] Hurts Like Hell

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri Jan 09, 2015 1:01 pm

Fuck, I couldn't even think straight let alone try to figure out what the hell he was talking about anymore. My hearing had started fading in and out again, sounding weirdly distorted like when you fucked around with a record player. It wasn't just annoying but distracting too. Like how the the fuck was a supposed to concentrate when I had to deal with that too? But somehow I manage to figure out what he'd said, or the gist off it anyway, which was unsurprisingly shitty. I'm not fucking snapping I'm just, I just don't now how much longer I can hold it together. And I really didn't fucking like that. It was a third party force that was taking away my ability to fucking control myself. How the fuck did people ever want to willingly put themselves through this shit. I was doing my best to fight it even as I felt my mind slipping more and more, even though it was fucking pointless and no matter what I did I couldn't fight this through sheer force of will alone.

The sound of the door closing and then him speaking was another thing that helped clarity seep into the clusterfuck that my brain had turned into. Even as I saw him a small part of me knew who it was and that, despite everything, he wasn't actually trying to kill me.. That was probably the real reason I dropped the sword. Not because I was fucking scared or anything, but because even in the state I was in I knew I didn't want to kill him. Hurt him? Sure that was probably an appealing idea ninety percent of the time, but not right now. 

I kept my eyes on the sword, following when he moved it away and fought for every second I could of not being a complete fucking whackjob. The light caught the metal and refracted strangely, sending up more shoots of light in a way that left me feeling disorientated as fuck. I couldn't look away even though there was something saying that I should, almost like a voice trying to convince me to watch my back, that there were other things to fear. All I wanted was to block it out and ignore the feeling but I just couldn't.

There was more than just fucking voices in my head to worry about, at least some part of me remembered that I was used to that, that I'd experienced the feeling of having another persons' thoughts in there. Back in the early days of my gift I hadn't been able to control it, hadn't been able to fucking decide when to hear it and when to shut it off. It'd taken nearly half a year for me to even begin being able to shut it off, I'd begun to fucking live for the moments when my head was silent and I could think clearly. Nothing had made me appreciate how fucking awesome clearing your mind could be... so having no say in it now was horrible. It added anger and resentment to every other fucking feeling that was swirling around, out of control, within me. 

For a second the idea of using my gift to, I don't fucking know, ground myself or some shit, flitted through my head but I was distracted by his voice again, somehow managing to clear my thoughts enough to actually know hat he was saying. I hate this. I really fucking hate this. I raised my arm and gripped at my hair, trying not to get lost in fucking paranoid thoughts and weird ass feelings again. There's a sawn-off in the trunk in the hall, it's locked but the keys... fuck I can't even remember where the fucking keys are. I don't... I don't know, why the fuck don't I know? I muttered, pretty much just asking myself because it wasn't like he'd fucking know. A... there's a revolver under my bed. One thing I'd learned was that you could never take too many measures to protect yourself. I shook my head, losing focus and staring up at the ceiling until the beams looked like they were moving. I felt ill, my empty stomach churning until I managed to drag my eyes away.

Finally I looked at him, relieved that he wasn't something straight out of a fucking horror movie. The clarity I'd been so relieved to feel was getting harder and harder to hold on to. I wanted him to leave, didn't want him to fucking be here as I lost it again. He was a dick, but I didn't want to hurt him, and I wasn't sure I could stop myself. I needed to get out, I didn't care about trying to stay safe anymore I just wanted to get as far away as I fucking could. My thoughts started to get frantic again and I leapt to my feet, looking from him to the doorway before starting forward. I just needed to fucking do something, I needed to escape and he was the only thing in my way. I crouched slightly, then sprang forward. Not aiming for him but past him.

Back to top Go down

avatar

Re: [Private] Hurts Like Hell

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Jan 20, 2015 2:08 am

Right, revolver. Now I had myself a fucking mission impossible. Get the revolver, lock her in her room, and hope to god she doesn't go Emily Rose and start reciting some demonic shit and eating dead spiders. Then again maybe that was safer than letting her run around her house slicing at imaginary whatever the fuck it was she was seeing.

I took a step back, but paused. Maybe if I just... It was a stupid fucking idea, there was no way it was going to work. But there was a moment the last time we had seen each other... Not a gay moment but a moment when I felt something different. She was explaining something but I wasn't listening at the time, it was a feeling. There was no way to explain it.

Fuck it. I started to clear my mind, there was no way I was able to do it the way she did, but I was hoping it would be enough. My eyes were glowing a bright white and I stared into hers. But then the crazy bitch sprung at me like a goddamned spider monkey. It caught me off guard at first, but I reacted, reaching out to grab her, mainly to keep her away from the weapon, but we both went down.

You fucking psycho I'm trying to fucking help you! I rolled her around and tried to pin her down. Maybe it wouldn't have been possible if she wasn't injured but I managed it, I somehow managed it, but now I had another fucking problem. I had to try and clear my mind like before, but after what had just happened it wasn't going to be fucking easy. Goddamnit.

Fucking look at me! I was looking, trying so fucking hard to get that feeling, the one that told me I had her under my control. All of this fucking work just to get the bitch to sleep? Fuck...

Back to top Go down

avatar

Re: [Private] Hurts Like Hell

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Wed Jan 21, 2015 4:55 am

Fuck this was just too much. Way too much. Had I mentioned that my fucking heart was racing like it was a few feet away from an Olympic gold medal? Because it fucking was, and I was barely managing not to freak out over that on top of everything else. What if it beat so fucking fast that it fucking exploded? I could suddenly visualize exactly that happening, the image flickering and just not going away no matter how much I wanted it to. A small, rational part of my brain was saying not to be retarded and that that was fucking impossible, but like, shit how could I even be sure that wasn't a fucking lie too?

When I noticed his eyes glowing, panic flickered dimly in the back of my mind, like there was something about him that I couldn't remember but that was important. Yeah, there was definitely something I should know about that fucking white glow, something that had me feeling defensive without being able to recall why. This was so beyond awful, this whole damn experience. If anything it just made me feel like I needed to get the fuck away even more.

Probably contributed to me trying to jump past him, but not for a second had I actually thought he'd try to stop me. I started struggling the fucking second it happened, hissing in pain, a pain that reminded me I had an injury for all of two seconds before that awareness slipped away again. Then he was speaking, his words still sounded really fucking muffled but I managed to catch it. in fact, what he said actually helped clear my head. Help? Why would you do that? I stopped struggling, looking up at his face and realizing I couldn't even remember who he was, though I was sure I did know him. 

For a second I just glared up at him, until another realization hit. I might not remember exactly who he fucking was but... but for some reason I knew I trusted him. Which was fucking weird because I didn't rally trust anyone much. My head cleared more and my eyes traveled over his features until I met his furious gaze again. This time I knew what to do. Keeping eye contact while I turned my focus inward, I managed to open up my telepathy, using it as an anchor as I connected with his thoughts, keeping mine to myself. I could remember who he was now, and how I'd been acting and knew that I really hoped I'd forget it all when I woke up.

I also knew what he was trying to do and, fuck I was so tired right now that I wanted it. I closed my eyes and focused on all the mental barriers I had in place, mental walls I'd constructed over the years when all I could think about was keeping everyone the fuck out. It was really fucking weird how willingly they came down. I opened my eyes again, meeting his and trying to almost open my mind to accept what he was doing, keeping tabs on his at the same time. Finally I felt a shift as my mind submitted and everything just... slowed down. My heart, the rapid fucking craziness of my thoughts. I felt so tired now. Thanks. I tried to say, but it kinda just came out sounding quiet and everything finally faded to black.

Back to top Go down

Page 5 of 6 Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6  Next

View previous topic View next topic Back to top


 
Index is best viewed using Google Chrome.
Site Designed and Coded by Evie.
Administrator & Founder: Evie.

Forum Statistics