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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 [Private] Misery Business

[Private] Misery Business

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[Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Aug 28, 2016 4:19 am

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Thread Details
A random lookout over a valley | Light Rain | Early Evening



Liliths hair is in a high ponytail, flecked with blood, dirt and leaves. Shes wearing a bloody, dirty and torn white parka, black t shirt and black jeans with various rips, muddy patches and yet more blood. Her arm is limp and obviously injured. Her skin is pale, her lips almost blue. She smells like sweat, blood, the forest but the strongest scent is that of death.



I'm in the business of misery. Let's take it from the top. She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock. It's a matter of time before we all run out. - Misery Business by Paramore.
 
Eventually my legs gave way, folding underneath me. Skidding in the dirt I collapsed almost crushing my arm in the process. Gingerly inspecting it through eyes becoming increasingly blurry I surveyed the damage. My once pristine white parka was shredded revealing a gash that stretched the length of my upper arm. It was deep enough I knew it would scar, if it ever got the chance to heal. Tears began to creep down to drench my eyelashes. I didn’t even care now if I had to fucking amputate the thing. It didn’t matter anymore. What the fuck was I meant to do? Even after living in a perpetual hellhole for days, weeks, months, I had not shed a single drop of sadness. Now the dam was broken and I couldn’t stop the torrent that cascaded out of my worn body. Uncontrollable cries, gasps and wails broke the silence for what seemed like hours.

“Ancestors…..How could you let this happen?” I tried to scream it into the night, out over a sharp drop, which I was now aware slipped down into black twenty feet in front of me. The valley below swallowed my limp excuse for a yell, so I returned to some quiet more subdued crying before climbing to my feet. I was too proud to just roll over and let the elements take me. If I was going to die, and really it was the only thing that was left now, I was going to do it the right way. Not only that but I felt an instinctual need to sing my heartbreak in a true and beautiful wolf way. Transforming only my head, as a full body probably would ruin my arm further, I tilted my head to the clouded sky. Soft raindrops tinkled onto my ivory fur, beading onto the strands to form jewels of dew.


With all the despair that consumed me I howled. The haunting noise told a tale of regret, agony, mourning and heartache. Wind took the melody and launched it across the forest, amplifying it, carrying it to the ears of foe and friend alike. I held the tune for as long as I could before my form fell away and I was left staring up at the sky with melancholy violet eyes.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun Aug 28, 2016 12:46 pm



My radio faded in and out, the volume low as the scratchy sound of a lost signal came pulsing in. I wasn't really listening anyway.

I had traveled this same road the same time every day, parking at different locations to take off on foot in search of, well... Anything. I'd done this since the night I'd discovered the den had been abandoned. Hoping to not see wolf corpses, and hoping to find a camp... A wolf, a chunk of fur caught in a wild thorn, a trail, a sign of wolf life, anything... I wasn't clinging to hope, I was running from fear and desperation. Camille and Jonah, of which had decided I had to earn their wolf names for whatever reason, weren't hope. They weren't anything to me but liars and schemers until proven otherwise. I guess we all had something to earn in our fucked up relationship.

Since they'd left to go find some woman they knew, some witch that could apparently get rid of Lilith forever, I found myself alone, again. And while I'd found myself happy to be rid of them and their seemingly empty promises, the second they left I also found myself back in that empty place I was trapped in before they arrived. My home was still a reminder, despite having scrubbed the floors clean of Logan's blood, I could smell it, every single fucking time I walked past his bedroom I could smell blood overpowering the gallons of bleach I tried to hide it with. Every personal escape tainted with that same level of horror. The den with the memory of the slaughter, and now a new memory of desolation and abandonment. One Shot, which was a fucking joke now as Ozra had apparently left it in the hands of humans. And I knew I was a fucked up piece of shit because I couldn't help but feel insulted that our bond was so meaningless to him that he trusted a human to succeed him without so much as a word to me before bailing.

The only place I didn't feel incredibly fucking empty inside was my truck, and I'd even found myself sleeping in it most nights. Avoiding ''home'' as much as possible, since every home I'd known was smeared in proverbial shit. And it was all of this, every combined shitty moment that had slowly been picking away at my motivation to find where my wolf family had gone.



I stopped, engine still running as I extinguished my cigarette and switched off the stereo. I leaned back in my seat after rolling down my window even further to let the remaining smoke escape and spoil the fresh rain air. I sighed, closing my eyes, tighter and tighter as more time passed feeling not beaten but enraged. That feeling of betrayal wasn't my first instinct, in fact I actually sympathized with my deserters at first. Understanding their fear and making excuses for their betrayal. But as I was left longer and longer in my solitude more sinister emotions surfaced. As much as I tried to fight them, as much as I knew they would only lead to dark places I no longer wanted to travel, I couldn't help but hate them. Every single one of them. Blind and loyal followers of Odin, the God of wisdom. I laughed, opening my eyes and shaking my head at the irony. A sarcastic reaction to camouflage my true fury.

I reached forward to turn my keys, letting them sit in the ignition as I pulled the lever on the left of my seat to lean back further. My eyes closed again, and the tension in them disappeared as I drifted off.



My eyes shot open and I gasped for air. Any memory of the dream I'd been having was gone, but that wasn't what had caught my attention. I yanked my keys from the ignition and tried pulling the handle to get out the door, throwing my side against it as it refused to open before finally realizing I needed to actually unlock it before it would budge. I switched the lock and opened it, my entire body clumsily falling out of the vehicle before finally gaining some balance and rushing towards the howl that had woken me from whatever nightmare had consumed me in my sleep.

I found myself slowing as I reached a slope, wanting to shift to gain speed but fearing the inevitable struggle to return to human form that would follow. I pushed forward, the muscles in my legs burning and breathing heavy as I reached the top. The scent was growing stronger. Wolf. But as I got closer the scent of blood became more and more potent. Each scent guided me through the trees, and by what I assumed was pure desperate intent I found the source of the cry and skidded to a halt. My breathing still heavy, eyes wide, and a look that I had to assume was a combination of shock, confusion, and surprising relief sat unfaltering on my face. You. The word took effort, sitting roughly and quietly in between heavy breaths. I couldn't find any other word, despite having prepared myself for the speech of a lifetime had I ever found another familiar wolf, none of those words applied. And even if they did, I couldn't speak them, I couldn't speak anything else.

My confused and shocked expression faded as my eyes darted around her form, and it quickly morphed into a frown as the shock faded and confusion grew. Her state was... Bad. Was this even real? Why was she here? Where did she come from? What the fuck happened to her? Questions that needed answers but instead of seeking an exchange of words silence filled the air between us.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Aug 28, 2016 10:49 pm

“Me” So wow, I was now seeing shit. That was just fan-fucking-tastic. Not only was I hallucinating Onyx standing in front of me but I could talk to him and I had recreated his smell perfectly. How often had I unknowingly sat there breathing him in to know every nuance of his scent? Watched him so I could draw his silhouette in my head? Memorized the sound of his voice? Normally I probably would have been ashamed to admit it, to accept it. Blaming it on the Alpha blood that forced my senses to do back-flips against my better judgement. Right now though, seeing him, it filled my empty cup to the brim with blindingly beautiful hope. I felt no shame in the huge grin that lifted up the corners of my lips. “You are, the most delicious thing, I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Talking to a figment of my imagination was the pinnacle of bat-shit crazy but I was just that lonely.

“You’re totally imaginary but hey, I’ll take anything right about now.” Taking a few steps towards him intensified the smell of Pack Master almost overpowering all of the other tidbits that made Onyx him. Leather, Gasoline, A particular brand of cigarettes, some god awful deodorant. Such a distinct and powerful combo it made me giddy. The fact I would describe myself as being ‘giddy’ was testament to how insane I was. He looked and smelled out of this world good. Good enough to make me forget how mutilated my arm was. How hungry, tired, thirsty and sad I was. That smell was Novocaine and I just wanted to wrap myself up in it.


Which is what I decided I was going to do. Yes, I was aware that because he was incorporeal that I was just going to face plant into the dirt and probably do myself some more damage but who gave a shit at this point? My shuffling steps quickened with newfound energy as I basically threw myself at him intending to bury my nose in his chest. With one arm completely out of action it would be a poor excuse for a hug. It did come with a squeal of delight and the continuation of a wide happy grin however.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun Aug 28, 2016 11:17 pm

How long could I endure this shit? I mean fuck, it was a testament to my will, but of all the wolves I'd thought over and hoped to see, frankly her name wasn't on the list. Maybe at one time it was, but she was the fucking trigger to my endless sea of abandonment. She was the first one I'd truly put my trust in regarding something really fucking big, and she disappeared when the fire was just getting hot. It all went downhill from there. Snowballing into what was my current reality. And even worse, I couldn't even start our conversation with insults and demanding questions. I wasn't the kind to kick 'em when they're clearly down. And oh how the mighty had fallen...

Fuck if I knew if she was really here. Frankly I'd given up on caring about illusions and reality long time ago. How long ago was it exactly when I had a conversation with a hallucination of Odin? Clearly I didn't give a fuck, because I knew it wasn't that fucking long ago.

Her voice had my eyes widening further. I knew what it sounded like, it wasn't anything shocking and it sure as fuck didn't carry the answers to the universe in it's cadence. But it was there. The hours I'd spent in silence when the pack disappeared and Logan died made hearing a familiar voice all the more valuable.

I didn't know how to react, I even glared when she smiled, finding her obvious lackluster state combined with a grin oddly unsettling. And the words that followed were all the more disturbing despite the relief I felt when she didn't reply with a groan while baring zombie teeth. As far as I knew, she could be the walking dead, in fact, I'd spent many months assuming her body was with the worms, rotting somewhere in the world. What? My voice was unintentionally loud compared to the hushed single word I'd spoken only moments ago. I'm not fucking imaginary you loon. I didn't know exactly why it pissed me off so much. But my tone implied otherwise, in fact it didn't match up with what I said at all.

Still, I found myself taking a step back as she took a step forward, feeling perfectly content with the amount of space between us. She looked fucked, and a part of me wanted to help, but anther part of me wanted to enjoy the sight of it for a moment longer. Maybe that was fucked up, but my last memory of her wasn't exactly a good one, and for a brief moment, this felt like justice. Are you real? This time I actually stepped forward, leaning my head in curiously as if getting a closer look would confirm she was real flesh and bones.

I immediately pulled my head back, however, as she was charging at me like an angry bull. Or more accurately, a manic bull. This shit was fucking insane. She looked like hell, fucking reeked of death and blood, was clearly fucking insane, but all it took was a few seconds for me to give in. You know you've hit rock bottom when any wolf contact, even contact of this nature immediately dismisses months of horror and loneliness. I wanted to squeeze her until her eyeballs popped out, then give her a well deserved punch in the nose for appearing and reappearing when it apparently best served her interests. I fucking hated her, but in this moment, couldn't be happier to see her. It was fucking complicated.

You're real. I muttered, almost realizing it to be true as I said it. And... I looked down, remembering how freakishly short she really was, but more important, realizing how injured she was. And fucked up? What the fuck?

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Aug 28, 2016 11:47 pm

Given the supernatural intent I had to smother myself in Onyx’s scent I had totally disregarded anything that had come out of his mouth. Words weren’t important but bathing myself in his smell was. That smell of a living breathing wolf, so you would have to excuse the reaction when I realized that he was in fact the ACTUAL Vincent in the flesh. My face was buried in his chest before it dawned on me that he had one. He was warm and now I could smell nothing but Alpha, seeping out of his skin, ignoring his clothes. Fire- engine red was the only way to describe my cheeks. They burned like the sun and there was no way I could hide it unless I wanted to stay locked against him. Lifting my head slowly absolutely mortified, mouth now hanging open in shock I let out a squeak of surprise.

“Holy shit it’s really you.” My eyes flicked around his face, a different kind of joy now overtaking the utter madness of a moment ago. “You’re here, you’re well, and I stand by my previous statement…the most delicious thing.” No shame at all. There was no filter on my mouth. I was unbelievably happy and it was a glorious feeling, though for some reason it made me very aware of how sore my arm was. Maybe it was the hot blood pumping around my veins, which had previously been injecting sludge into every limb and organ.


“Um, yeah, well.” Couldn’t disagree with that and now I was further embarrassed by the state in which I was in. I’d been fucked up before but this was a whole different ball game, whole different sport really. “Enough about me…” I didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened prior to this moment though Sona’s voice rang in my ears. Be open, Bare your Soul. “Did you guys get bored of the scenery or something? I stopped by the den and it was gone….or wait, don’t tell me you aren’t going to let me know where the new spot is so I won’t come visiting.” It was actually hard to take a step back and put some space in between us. My working hand stroked his jacket before detaching just too double make sure that he was solid but as soon as I had let go, moved away, I fell to my knees in the dirt. “I promise that I won’t piss on your welcome mat Onyx” I needed a healer. A shower. A vodka and a whole roast chicken. Another hug wouldn’t go a miss either.

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