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] Blue to Black

[Private] Blue to Black

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[Private] Blue to Black

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon Apr 06, 2015 11:16 pm

Thread Details

Thunderstorms | Past Closing Time


There's so much noise in silence. The sound of my own heartbeat. The sound of my breath. The sound of the faucet, drip, drip, drip, fucking drip. The sound of the entire fucking building moaning and groaning as the wind fiercely thrashed through the the world outside. The sound of thunder, the sound of rain, the sound of the growl growing in my chest... My growl transformed into a hoarse yell, a burst of rage as I threw my glass against the wall. My hands violently scattered across the bar as I tried to feel without the aid of my eyes for something else to break. The shattering sound of an ash tray hitting the mirror behind the bar, and the clanking sound of broken reflective glass following after sent me into a frenzy as I was no longer looking for glass to break, but anything at all.

The bar stool I had been sitting on came next, chips of wood flung in every direction as I vigorously thrashed it against the floor. Again and again and again. My muscles burned, the heat seemingly swimming up my shoulders, neck, and eventually into my eyes where I felt the purest and deepest form of hatred I had ever felt swarming around my mind. It crashed into the sides of my skull, a throbbing headache that seemed to fuel the very hatred that was causing it. An endless cycle sending me into another explosion of fury as I reached for the pool balls and threw them against the wall, cracking holes in the drywall.

''ONYX! YOU MOTHER FUCKING BASKET CASE!'' The sound of Ozra's voice had my head spinning around faster than my body could. I stared at him with bared teeth. My heavy breath seeped through the cracks causing a horrific hissing sound to fill the room, and my blackened eyes, the whites completely filled with an onyx haze stared so intently at him I swear I could see inside of him. The Ozra that stood before me was unknown, I could not recognize his face as a friendly face, or his voice as a friendly voice. He was a stranger to me, and I was a stranger to myself. I was a stranger and a danger to everything and everyone.

He placed his hands up, palms facing me and began to slowly back away. ''You're not well buddy, y-you're not well...'' He spoke quietly before turning around to run for his shotgun. He didn't point it at me, he didn't even look back, he just grabbed it and went straight for the door. The sound of his truck starting up had me fighting whatever it was that had possessed me. It wanted to run after him, and at times I thought it had more control over my own legs than I did as I seemed to stumble towards the door. Whatever this was, it wanted his blood. I wanted his blood. Images of myself ripping at his flesh, feeling a contrast to my current hatred, pure bliss as he screamed and begged for me to stop. The image seemed to short circut, I liked it, I yearned for it, but didn't at the same time. Was this me? Was it something else?

A moment of control came over me and rushed into the bathroom, the contents of the many drinks I had since long before One Shot closed for the evening crawled up my throat and splattered into the sink. Another heave had my body nearly falling over and I gripped the sides of the sink as dry heaving followed after that. The burning acid in my throat and the pain in my stomach made it impossible for me to see straight. I raised my head, seeing two reflections in the mirror. They seemed to move from side to side, leaving each other and eventually combining into one. I blinked, my eyes opening to see my eyes go from blue to black, entirely black. My own fucking reflection, which wasn't even mine smiled at me and I reacted. My fist hit the mirror causing more glass to shatter and I stumbled back against the wall as I reached for my phone.

Peyton
It's not fuckingwrking! Your lessons r hsit! Youreshit!


I typed quickly and hit send.

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Re: [Private] Blue to Black

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Apr 07, 2015 12:17 am

Being a light sleeper was the fucking worst. It'd always been a problem I'd had, ever since I was a kid. Even as a baby anything woke me up and I'd rarely slept through a full night. My parents had loved trying to make me feel bad about it in a playful way as I'd gotten older. It meant that there was a chance of literally fucking anything waking you. Couple that with the way my senses had heightened since the ritual and it felt like I never slept anymore. It was like the only way to get some goddamned rest was to exhaust myself until I dropped. That's what I'd had to do tonight. I'd gotten back from a security job in Seattle at midnight and even though I'd wanted nothing more than some fucking shut eye I'd known even then it was gonna be impossible.

I'd gone to my studio where one corner was dedicated to training equipment. My makiwara boards had been my choice for that night. Five solid oak blocks screwed to the wall. The shape was kind like a cross. The purpose was brutally simple. With my fists, elbows, feet and knees- any striking point on my body, even the top of my forehead and the sharp curve of my hipbone- I pummeled the blocks with lightning speed, every strike more ferocious than the last. They were meant to toughen skin and deaden nerve endings, but my rate of regeneration as a wolf made that impossible. Instead I just used them to push myself to the brink of being so tired I could drop on the stop. For nearly two hours I worked on them, pushing myself to hit harder, faster, until telltale red smudges covered the boards. 

Finally I'd slumped against them totally spent and just about managed to drag myself up to my bed. I'd sat on the edge of the bed, swaying as I'd pulled off my clothes. I just always felt too hot to sleep in anything any more, like my body temperature had risen along with my stress levels. My socks proved way too fucking difficult though, so I'd given up and just fallen backwards, eyes closed before I even hit the pillow.

It was the sound of my phone that pulled me from the edges of sleep, completely ruining what I'd spent the last hours working towards. I groaned pathetically and pulled myself upright again, rolling to the side of the bed and groping around for my jeans, eyes still shut. I pulled it from the back pocket, dragging my arm back up and forcing my eyes open, bringing up the text. It took several tries reading it before it sunk in and then I groaned again, the last chance of sleep leaving me. I pushed back the flicker of worry  I felt when I dialed Vin's number, knowing I'd never manage a text. I used my shoulder to hold the phone to my ear and I pushed myself up into a sitting position, waiting for him to pick up.

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Re: [Private] Blue to Black

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Apr 07, 2015 12:52 am

Drip, drip, drip, fucking drip. I couldn't fucking escape it. It happened in the bar, and it happened in the bathroom. It happened fucking everywhere and each time a drop fell it didn't just drip, it fucking crashed and exploded in a loud mind shattering blast. I was convinced this was fucking hell, and I was cursed to hear that damned fucking dripping even if a sink wasn't near.

I looked at my phone, suddenly feeling just as much hatred for it as I'd felt towards everything else in the bar and I began to squeeze. I wanted it to break in my hand, pain would take my mind off of everything else wouldn't it? My arm began to shake and tears began to streak down my face. I wasn't crying, it was fucking vomiting. It made every fucking hole in my head except my ears leak. My nose was running, eyes leaking, and I felt another tense jolt in my stomach, telling me round fucking two wasn't far behind.

I stopped, my phone was buzzing. I wanted to throw it to the ground and stomp on it until it's pieces were as small as grains of sand, but I wanted to answer it at the same time. Fuck it felt like there were two beings inside of me, the real me, and a pure rage version of me. They were clawing at each other and trying to separate from one another and the only thing keeping them from what they wanted was my body, a shell that wasn't fucking solid enough to contain them.

I answered. I can't fucking contain it. I hated myself for admitting it, and my frantic voice hesitated through the words. I sounded as if I was trying to lift a thousand pounds while speaking at the same time. It's like a million fucking atomic bombs going off in my insides and all I want to do is break someones fucking skull in to relieve some of the pressure. I groaned and began grinding my teeth together. The idea of taking a sledgehammer and breaking in someones skull was way too fucking exciting, it was fucking mental! I shouldn't have been so happy at that thought. Violence wasn't even violent to me in that moment, it was better than the idea of sex. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

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Re: [Private] Blue to Black

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Apr 07, 2015 1:27 am

My gaze stayed blearily locked on to my hands as I waited for him to picked up, staring at my knuckles where I'd hit the boards so hard for so long that I'd worn away the skin. I licked one of my thumbs and started rubbing at the dried blood that was streaked down the back of my hands. It wasn't like if was some kind of self-harm bullshit or anything like that. I was a fucking wolf for christsake, tiny wounds like that were totally insignificant. It was just something that happened when I lost myself to the mind-numbing rhythm of my training routines. Necessary injuries in the quest for sleep or whatever.

At first when he answered his voice was almost muffled by the fogginess in my head. My eyelids could barely stay open and every blink was slow, making me think that I'd shut them and they'd just end up staying closed. But then his tone caught my attention and I shook my head, snapping myself out of it. What the hell are you talking about? He didn't sound like him. I mean yeah I was more than used to him sounding pissed off but this didn't sound like it was just anger. There was a desperation to it too. One that I really didn't like hearing, not when I felt like I'd heard it before.

When he continued I snapped into full alertness, eyes widened at what he said. Shit everyone had homicidal thoughts now and then but this wasn't just that. I had heard him like this before. The time he'd called me over for an emergency and I'd seen him fucking lose it like we were in a damn exorcist movie. His message made sense now, and it felt like my heart jumped up to my throat.

Where are you?I snapped, grabbing the phone to hold it against my ear properly and hopping out of bed, grabbing grey sweats from my dresser that I could pull on easily with one hand. Shit, I hoped that at the fucking least he was alone. This couldn't get out, the pack couldn't know. I would've tried to deal with this anyway but now that I was warlord it felt like I had no other choice. It's not your fucking fault Vin, keeping trying to push it back. I grabbed a black zip-up hoodie and shrugged it on, switching the phone from hand to hand as I shoved my arms into the sleeves. I didn't stop long enough to do it up or even get some shoes, just running down the stairs in my socks and grabbing my keys from the table in the hall. I was out the door and starting up my truck in seconds, phone pressed to my ear the whole time.

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Re: [Private] Blue to Black

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Apr 07, 2015 1:56 am

The voice in my head sounded like my own, it sounded like me. It was hard to not believe yourself when your thoughts sounded like your thoughts but they fucking weren't your thoughts. I wouldn't think the shit running through my head, not even on my worst days. I wouldn't enjoy the shit I was seeing. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy but the things I was thinking and seeing didn't involve my enemies, they involved people that as much as it fucking killed me to admit it, I cared about. The red and their fucking cries, God I wanted it to be real but I couldn't want any of it to be real could I? Oh fuck I was a horrible person.

The image of Ghost's head on a spike, her eyes missing leaving behind nothing but two black holes in her skull. The parallel between that and my own reflection couldn't have been connected could it? I picked up a shard of glass and looked at my reflection. Their black color hadn't disappeared, and I knew that they wouldn't disappear until the thoughts disappeared but they weren't fucking going anywhere. They were a part of me, they were my thoughts and soon to be reality, I felt it in my fucking bones.

It felt like someone was stabbing me with a million syringes injecting me with snake venom. It started at my toes and worked up my legs, my torso, all the way down my arms and everywhere in between. It was the urge to make the fantasies in my head a reality, it physically fucking pained me to not do the things I was seeing. Who could possibly have this much hatred, so much that it was physically painful not to release it? I could have fucking cried if it wasn't for the voice at the other end. I can't tell you that. I whispered into the phone. I can't do that. I shook my head, as if she could fucking see it...

My finger had been nervously scraping over the edge of the broken glass, the physical pain working as some kind of fucking debuffer. I can't push it back Pey. I spoke, my voice suddenly firm. It was a part of me now.

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