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:
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 [Closed] Mental Block

[Closed] Mental Block

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[Closed] Mental Block

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri Jul 03, 2015 9:56 am

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Owl Heights Residential | humid

OOC Message
Part 1


This was bullshit. Just total fucking bullshit. Why, might you ask, was I sitting in my truck still several houses away from the one I grew up in, engines idling and my foot frozen over the gas? Maybe because I was obviously a fucking idiot who couldn’t make up their mind for more than a few goddamn minutes? Or who knew, maybe deep down I was just a damn coward and couldn’t face what would happen if I did press my foot down on the pedal and kept going. I didn’t even know what I would find. There were so many questions and doubts filling up my head and I didn’t know what to do with them. And I really hated that, hated feeling like I didn’t know my own mind. If you'd asked me a couple of months ago what I'd have done with the information I had now about my family, or at least the information I might have about my family, I would've been able to tell you exactly what I'd do, no hesitation or over-thinking. But now... shit, now if someone asked me that I'd probably struggling not to punch them. Yeah, it'd be irrational as fuck but being clear-headed obviously wasn't one of my strong suits when it came to all of this.

I just couldn't bring myself to get close enough to find out, that's what all of this felt like. Like I was a fucking pussy who couldn't face up to the possibility of being wrong about something I started out so sure about. Because I really fucking did feel sure about it when I'd seen that face in his mind. That night was hard to think about and some parts were harder to recall, fuzzy really. Probably just from stress and information overload. But then other things stuck out clear as day, including everything I'd seen in his mind, including the redhead. I'd woken up the next day and it'd hit me, like really fucking staggered me, when I'd thought about the possibilities. It just couldn't be a coincidence, it just couldn't.

Maybe I should've done more looking into it, tried to see if there was any way of confirming. But I'd just honestly been so damn sure that it hadn't seemed necessary. Why waste time with cautious crap like that when I could just go find out for myself right then and there. So goddamn sure.

Hope... hope is a dangerous thing. It sucks you in and makes you lose your head. It's an expert at seeking out the logical parts of your brain and telling them to just take fucking five. It encourages you to take a break from reality and wants you to believe that everything just turns out fine. Thinking realistically gets shoved to the side and from some fucking reason, even if it's just for a second, you indulge in that hope. And when did that ever fucking work out well?

I had barely stopped to change outta the clothes that I'd slept in, barely paused long enough to seek out my a pair of shoes to shove my feet into before I'd rushed out of the house. Maybe that wasn't entirely because of being hopeful either. Even now my house just felt... different. I'd this fucking annoying feeling I'd lost something in there that I should be looking for but that was just fucking stupid because I'd checked and I knew I had everything 'important'. But that vibe stuck about, followed me even outside of the house but it wasn't as strong there. So maybe I hadn't just been eager or whatever, maybe there'd been a part of me that was running away from that nagging feeling as well? I didn't know, and I didn't want to think about it.It didn't matter because wither way I'd left the house in a damn hurry to find up if what I'd seen was what I hoped. Fucking idiot.

The first part of the drive was more of the same. Thinking about it, imagining it. Playing out scenarios in my head like a fucking sentimental loser. Then there were the memories. Good ones of being a kid, ones that always featured my family in some kinda positive light. I thought about seeing them again, about what it would be like. About how much might change. Or worse, might not. That one thought, that one small and practically insignificant thought was all it took. It felt like a dam of negativity broke then. Anything positive I'd been thinking was washed away by the amount of ways it could go wrong. Old thoughts I'd thought I'd pushed behind me resurfaced, old doubts invasively pushed their way back to the forefront of my mind. The same shit I'd thought about back when I was newly turned, the same shit that had kept a scared sixteen year old from going home no matter how much she'd wanted to. I felt like I couldn't draw air into my lungs, like these thoughts were pressing down tightly on my chest and clouding my mind. What if they were better off now? What if I couldn't explain, or if the explanations I gave weren't good enough? That I wasn't good enough? 

Feeling sick to my stomach I'd stopped, hadn't even realized I was pulling a U-turn until I was already on my way back to my own house, still thinking about all those fucking shitty thoughts that I'd thought I'd put behind me. I'd made up my mind, hadn't I? I'd decided this was what I wanted, right? But I just couldn't get rid of that sense of overpowering apprehension, the same one from ten years ago that I'd gotten any time I tried to go back. The exact fucking same feeling that I could remember more clearly than I'd have ever willingly admitted. 

Was that just how it would always be? Would I always have those stupid fucking question cloying at my mind, going unanswered? Would it get to a point where I could actually get past them? A point I'd thought I'd already reached but obviously I was way fucking wrong about that. Just go, I'd told myself, just keep going and find out. But I hadn't been able to, I'd just kept driving away until the panicked constriction of my chest had stated to ease up and I could breathe again.

#Closed #Solo

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Re: [Closed] Mental Block

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri Jul 03, 2015 11:15 am

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Part 2


The further away I got from where I'd thought I wanted to go the more angry I got about it. I kept thinking about how determined I'd been before and why the fuck I'd just let that slip away because of some old doubts? I'd nearly turned around then and there but then that feeling was back turning my resolve to dust and letting it just be blown the hell away like it'd never been there in the first place. I'd gone home,  feeling so goddamn angry at myself, anger that morphed into fury as I'd paced around my house. Why the fuck not just push that stupid shit to the side and just follow thought with it, who gave a damn about the 'what if's', you wouldn't know until you knew so why fucking dwell on it? I wondered how could I be such a damn mess about it, how I could let my mind change so easily, like it'd never been made up in the first place?

I'd tried again the next day, but maybe it was the fact that what had happened the day before was still so fresh in my mind and I was thinking about it, letting my own uncertainty undermine any resolve I'd managed to build up during the night. I hadn't even made it as far before I'd had to stop and try deal with the feelings that hit me, trying to be clear-headed and think logically about it but it'd been useless. Again I'd just ended up going back, feeling fucking ill and ashamed. What was wrong with me? Was it some kind of mental block that I had to work my way around? All I knew was that it was like a fucking panic attack, one that didn't ease up until I stopped thinking about going back there, stopped thinking about going back to a place I'd once called home but now couldn't even seem to get close to.

The day after that I hadn't tried again, I'd told myself that I could spend every fucking day trying to push myself into doing something that a part of me obviously wasn't ready to do. That was the only logical explanation I could think of, no matter how sick at myself it made me. 

But the thing was... I felt ready. Even when I'd gotten back I felt like I was wasting time not trying again because I wanted to know. I needed to know. It was only when I went to try and do exactly that, to try find out if I was right about what I'd seen and the feeling of certainty it had given me at first, only then did everything go to shit.

I told myself there were other things I had to do and I couldn't let myself be consumed by it. What if it turned out I'd be going on some wild chase anyway, that it wasn't Avery and I still had no idea where any of them were? How fucking stupid would I feel then, especially if it turned out I was going through those moments of dread for nothing? I already felt pathetic enough as it was.

Days had passed and it didn't get any better. There was actually shit that I needed to get done but it was always at the back of my mind. Like I didn't have enough to fucking think and worry about, like I didn't already feel like I was going crazy from other shit going on in my head. But when I did end up thinking about it, it had me feeling like the next time I tried I'd actually manage it. I wouldn't freeze or act like a crazy shit letting old worries overwhelm me. Maybe it was just a matter of building up enough conviction? Hell, I wasn't a fucking shrink it wasn't like I knew what to do when it came to old events that had lasting effects, if that's what was even going on. I didn't know and it wasn't like I was about go ask a fucking expert on this shit. There wasn't anyone I felt like I could go to with this either. Maybe at one point but that didn't fucking matter anymore.

But I did end up trying again, got further too and even thought I'd been right that building up conviction shit. Which in retrospect was kinda sickeningly optimistic of me. Because of fucking course it did happen again and with an ever growing sense of self-loathing I'd fucking backed up, ran away like a goddamn kicked dog with its tail between it's legs. Running off to lick those mental wounds that I'd have never known ran so deep.

And that's how the cycle started. That's how fucking ridiculous I was, that I actually got caught in a fucking cycle of this shit. I'd try and just tell myself that I'd just check, just see. That I wouldn't talk to anyone or make any choices I might regret if they didn't work out. Reasoned with myself that just looking wouldn't do any fucking harm. But the crushing doubts came anyway, worse the closer I managed to get and then inevitably, pathetically I'd abandon it, spend a few days trying to avoid thinking about it, doing the other tasks I had and looking into other things that should take precedence, until those same defiant, destructively hopeful thoughts that hadn't gotten me anywhere so far decided to resurface and set about building up that anger and determination all over again. It was exhausting, like I was mentally wearing myself down with this bullshit.

So that's why, if you asked, I'd tell you I was sitting in my truck still a block of houses away from the one I grew up in, engine idling and my foot frozen over the gas. Because I was a fucking idiot that couldn't just not make up their own mind but was obviously losing it in the process. Because deep down maybe I knew I was a coward who wouldn't be able to face what I might find if I kept going and did press my foot down on that pedal. I stared ahead, looking out the window, scowling at everything and anything. This was the furthest I'd gotten yet but it still wasn't far enough. I could feel that same wall of reluctance and apprehension pressing on me, stronger than ever. The panic was bubbling under the surface waiting to come up and steal my breath.

But the anger was there too. The fact that I was so royally pissed about all this hadn't been pushed away yet and I was holding on to it. It was keeping my head just clear enough to get in that logical thinking I'd been missing every other time I'd turned tail and run. I gritted my teeth, clenching my jaw so hard it felt like something was bound to crack or break. This wasn't... normal. There was something really fucking weird about the fact that no matter how much I wanted it when I started out I ended up almost forgetting all about that the closer I got to this place and that house. Like something other than myself was holding me back.

With and growl of anger and frustration I cut the engine, practically kicking open my own door and slamming it closed behind me. One step was all it took to nearly shake off the anger I was clinging to, and I knew if I lost that I'd just leave all over again. But I needed some time to actually thinking about this, to look at those thoughts in this setting with even just the slightest chance of taking an objective view. But I just couldn't get closer, it was driving me fucking nuts and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so fucking useless. I turned and kicked out at the wheel of my truck, hands gripping at the edge of the hood as I just lashed out again and again, trying to work off the festering resentment that this situation made me feel.

Not that it helped at all. I stopped eventually, breathing hard even though I hadn't down much. I felt like I was going crazy, my mind was pulled in so many directions with so much shit to thinking about. And it wasn't just this and the fact that I was seemingly incapable of finding out if what I'd seen was what I wanted to to be. There was so much more going on right now, all that imminent doom shit, things I had to try and track down and find out and feeling useless because really, where the fuck did I start looking? I'd had ideas that had gone nowhere, some more that were half formed in my mind but that I hadn't given enough though to yet because of the other shit. 

Then there was the fact that I hadn't been sleeping well ever since the night I'd seen the videos on that flash drive. That when I did sleep I had these fucking dreams... ones that left me confused and angry at myself for having them in the first place because even just dreaming about some things was stupid and useless and futile and what was worse was that sometimes I just didn't what to wake up from them. But when I did I wished I'd never had them because they brought thoughts and feelings to the surface that I'd been burying and ignoring and they were better off left down there. I was better off without them but it was starting to feel like I didn't have a choice but to acknowledge th- no, I couldn't. It had been made emphatically clear to me that some things had to be a certain way even if you didn't like it. There was already too much going on and had I mentioned it was fucking pointless anyway? 

I turned so that I was leaning against the side of the truck, my hands rising and gripping at my hair as I gritted my teeth again, even harder this time. Those dreams, the weird sense that I got at times that I was forgetting something, and then whatever the hell this was, the mental barrier I couldn't get past to just get myself some goddamn answers instead of just having questions going round and fucking round. Was it any wonder that sometimes I felt I was going to go certifiably insane? My head throbbed, signalling the start of yet another headache. There were happening more lately, leaving me feeling so drained and tired and usually meant another night of passing out no matter how hard I tried to stay awake, meant more dreams I didn't want. 

A sigh slipped past my lips as my arms fell limply to my sides. I felt the anger slip away and the pressure in my chest was starting to build. My head turned to looked down the street, to the corner I'd have to turn before I could even see the home that I was thinking about. 

But even as I turned and pulled my door open the panic was holding off, like the fact that I had already decided to leave loosened it's hold. It made me sure, just so sure, that something else was going on here. I didn't know what but my gut instinct told me that there had to be something. Yet another thing to try and figure out, but I would. 

I promised myself that- as I keyed the ignition hand going to the back of the passenger seat as I looked back over my shoulder, pulling out of the spot I'd had to stop in- that whatever the hell was going on here I'd either work it out or break past it. 

Just... maybe not today. But I would.

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