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...

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 [Private] Misery Business - Page 4

[Private] Misery Business

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon Aug 29, 2016 5:09 am

How many times had I rolled my eyes tonight? I couldn't remember, but I tacked another one onto the list as I opened the med kit to prep the needle. Her sense of humor, if that's what you even want to call it, was still in tact. So maybe most of the trauma was just visual, or maybe she was just really fucking good at pretending when she needed to.

I waited patiently for her to remove the jacket, nearly offering to help but finding nothing right about offering to help her take her clothes off. So I waited, and waited, and tried to reach for the bottle to do the hard part for her but pulled away so she could do it herself like a big girl. Not that I didn't think she could, I just thought it might be easier if I did it for her. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

I turned away, momentarily as she examined it, feeling like it was I don't fucking know... It just wasn't something to gawk at. And judging by what followed after, it was finally starting to sink in. The piercing pain that I was all too familiar with. I took it upon myself to reach for her wrist, gripping it firmly to prevent her from accidentally rubbing the wound on the fabric of the couch if anymore flailing was to ensue. Sexy. I muttered after my eyes briefly caught the glimpse of blood oozing down her chin. My eyes mostly focused on the wound to make sure there were no debris caught inside before I could begin closing it up.

Your idea of safety is depressing. I spoke, not tearing my eyes away from my little project once. As much as I'd thought I'd enjoy this, I was surprised to find myself trying to not be too cruel in my efforts. Maybe it was actually seeing how bad it truly was, and partially, I wanted to do it right. The sooner I could avoid looking under her skin, the better. For both of us.

Collars? That was the first time I'd torn my eyes away, and for longer than a split second too. What collars? This was new information to me. And frankly my mind was already delving into really dark places. Yeah... I do, better than most. I finally admitted. Honesty for honesty. She might not believe in what was it again? ''Tit for tat'', but I did. I was tired of giving shit away for free, and frankly she'd earned a little bit of truth.

This feels eerily similar to a speech I've heard... Where was it again? I looked up to the ceiling as if to take a moment to ''think'' before returning to my project. Ah I remember... This very town, some lone wolf chick that looked a lot like you, sounded like you to, oh fuck I think it was you. I want to help Onyx. I spoke, trying to pull off a girls voice and failing miserably. Maybe not those exact words, but the message was the same. And if this is de ja vu I already know how it ends.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, and you know how the saying goes.

I reached for one of the towels and lightly dabbed away a bit of the blood that was sitting on the edge of the wound before proceeding. In all honesty, revenge is one of my top priorities, but there are other, far more important matters that need to be dealt with first. I'm not going into shit blind, this isn't some local nest that needs exterminated. This is the fucking Supremacy. As much as it hits me right in my fucking ego to admit, they're powerful, and powerful with intent and some twisted cult religion on their side. Need I remind you how those things typically end?

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 12:47 am

Purring would have been the best way to counter that snarky ‘sexy’, too bad I was swimming in a tangled thicket of agony. Missed that train, maybe I’d catch the next one. His response to me shouting the praises of being a lone wolf was of course met with what I had expected. Our kind was just magnetized to living in groups, it was unnatural to consider anything else comfortable. All communities had their oddballs but they were almost always dealt with harshly unless they somehow become a majority. Didn’t see hanging out by yourself becoming a worldwide trend in Wolf pastimes though. “I’ve survived because I was alone, a single wolf isn’t much of a threat.” Truth, but not the whole truth. Safety in numbers wasn’t a statement that obviously applied here that was for damn sure. Travelling solo didn’t necessarily mean I wasn’t going to die, just that it wouldn’t take long to expire if they found me. If, they found me. “Just existing doesn’t stop the apocalypse though, and there needs to be some fucking wolves left in order for someone to sing songs about my bravery.” Cracking lame jokes was helping with the pinching of the needle.

Dawning on me was the seriousness of my injury. Just looking at it made me realize that it should be more painful than it was. Narrowing my eyes and glancing at Onyx I wondered if his slow monkey brain had realized something was weird about this whole deal. I hadn’t achieved Nirvana or some shit. I couldn’t now stand on hot coals in the middle of a fire pit or sleep comfortably on a bed of sharpened nails. That would be a bragable development. Instead the source of my ability to be a Boss was sinister.

Hissing the odd breaths out through my teeth, holding the even for longer than I needed to ham up the pain I wasn’t really feeling, I widened my eyes at him. “Guess that answers my question as to how much you know about our current predicament….how nice for you to have not witnessed our possible extinction.” Stopping bitterness entering my voice was impossible so I let it en-lace the words. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with him. That sourness intensified with his insulting imitation of my voice. “Eat shit.” Growling I actually truthfully winced at one jab of the needle, weaving through a rather damaged looking bit of skin. Fuck this was going to be ugly. “Look, I get it right, loyalty and respect aren’t a given from me because I’m a scary boogieman lone wolf.” Using my only functioning arm I mimed a combination of Frankenstein’s monster and a zombie to punctuate the exasperated statement. “That and I may have be a slight tiny wee bit of an asshole, but fuck you, it’s not like you greeted me with a hug, cake and a welcome to Index brochure either.”

Twisting my upper body away from him I dug my hand down into my bra. Was not into the idea of giving Onyx a shot of my cleavage while he was delving in the insides of my arm. Rummaging around I pulled out one of the few belongings I had left. Soon I was going to have to buy a new phone. This one was screwed. Spider web cracks rendered the screen useless. I could receive calls and texts, but not make any of my own. The lump of junk served one important purpose, a glorified alarm clock.

1hr, 17mins.

Needed to be sewed, fed, watered and showered in that time and Onyx preferably needed to be asleep. Had piled enough on his dish tonight. Some secrets were best left for another day. Especially this one since it wasn’t going to help with the whole trust issue floating between us. Dumping my phone on the table I added a credit card and an Opal pendant with no chain before turning back towards my marinating parka jacket.

Speaking of too much shit to deal with. Tearing the lining of the material completely I fished around, but not for long for the very thing to answer Vincent's question. “This by the way, is a collar.” Placing it on the table like it was the Holy Grail I tore my eyes away from it before I started to ball my eyeballs out again. “Wraps around the neck, wires go into the skull at the back turning the wolf into a remote control toy….one that rips apart their own pack members…their own pups.” My voice choked on the last part and I coughed trying to cover it up. Wasn’t ready to talk about this, I had to be brutally honest but there was no way I could excuse myself and bolt for the door with a piece of sharp metal stuck in a half mended arm.

“Red cool aide finds its way into the local water supply? Is this religious mumbo jumbo a fact or has your head morphed into an Imagination station?” Changing the subject to one where I could make fun of him, light hearted of course, helped push down the sadness creeping up from below. “I’m all for some creativity but I’ve seen this shit first hand, you may not trust me but you need me.” And fuck it I needed him too.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 4:06 am

''A single wolf isn't much of a threat.'' Interesting choice of words. I had to go on faith that they were unintentionally false. People who had a glimpse of what was residing inside of me didn't have a tendency to seek me out, in fact, most of them had a tendency to leave or die. But considering the survival instincts on this one, I had a feeling proving her statement false was probably something I should avoid at all costs. I didn't exactly see ''oh before I forget, Lilith wants to rise from the dead and bring death and destruction to all wolves, and she's using my body as a temporary portal until someone can squeeze out a human shaped larva for her to inhabit'' as a conversation that would end well right now. And it wasn't really her business anyway. I wasn't sewing her up because I felt she was an ally, I was sewing her up because I still had some fucking human decency left in me.

For someone that's hellbent on getting revenge no matter how fucked up you get, you sure a pussy when it comes to a little flesh wound. It was far from little, in fact as many injuries as I'd had, there was something about seeing deep wounds on someone else that tempted my gag reflex, and this one in particular was gnarly. Which did have me wondering. When did you say you got this again? She hadn't exactly stated what town she was in when she was ''investigating'' or when that even was. It was all very fucking strange when I thought about it. Then again she was never exactly normal. Which made it all seem less strange, somehow.

Need I remind you I'm the one holding the needle, and you have all kinds of sore places I could make you hurt right now? I snapped back, feeling my hand tense. I took in a deep breath and regained focus, loosening the tension in my hands and trying treat her as delicately as I possibly could, despite finding myself wanting to cause her pain. Is this another joke? It's hard to tell with you sometimes, so really, I wanna know. I asked, pausing only long enough to get the words out before digging the needle in once more. For fucks sake Luxx, are your past relationships with wolves so fucking twisted you actually think that's what my problem is? Truth be told, the level of kindness and welcome you received when you showed up, no matter how small, was far more than some other packs would have shown you. And you can be a cunt all you want, I'm not Sammie Sunshine myself, I don't give a fuck. Bottom line, I trusted you when you said you wanted to help, and you weren't around to do it. That's it. So I'll lay off, but don't get it fucking twisted. Fuck her. Truth be told, it was my high expectations of her that lead to my unwelcome welcome this time around. More specifically, the way she betrayed the trust I had finally given her, even if it wasn't much. And frankly, I was a member of this shitty fucking pack and I didn't get a cake either, so why was she bitchin'?

I stopped, watching her but feeling like I probably shouldn't be watching her as she was doing whatever the fuck she was doing. What the fuck... Was she a fucking magician now? More importantly, if she was, why the fuck did it not surprise me? I wasn't fucking drunk enough for this shit. You wanna get this done or fuck around some more? I asked, grabbing her arm to pull her towards me and keep working. Not much longer now. Over half way, what could I say? I'd had plenty of practice with this kind of shit.

She escaped my grip and I watched as she pulled out some alien contraption and placed it onto the table. How the fuck do you have it? Where the fuck did you even get it?! I glared, but mostly at the thing sitting on my coffee table, that for all I knew was sending out a beacon to lure in some unholy enemies as I spoke. Dead on the center of my coffee table no less. Fucking perfect.

I instinctively reached behind my head, knowing there was nothing there but feeling compelled to make sure there wasn't a fucking outlet sitting at the back of my skull this entire time. I was tempted to reach behind hers too. This shit was scifi level shit that again, I wasn't drunk enough for. So, I reached for the bottle. Maybe I could get drunk enough to forget all of this tomorrow and go on pretending Luxx was just some lone wolf that came into town a while back, caused some trouble, and disappeared. Ignorance really was bliss. I shook my head, as if it would magically shake my thoughts out of my ears and I could achieve that glorious memory loss I was craving more than ever. But I knew it didn't work like that.

I reached for her arm again and sped up the process. The fun I'd had with this little project was disappearing, and it was quickly becoming tedious in light of other revelations. Replace koolaid with blood, and water supply with streets and you'll have a better idea of what I'm talkin' about. And it's very real. I don't know what you think I've been doing in your absence, but I haven't just been sitting on this couch throwin' back beers and watching Sunday football. Time didn't stop when you left, I know shit too, plenty of shit I wish I didn't, and plenty more to come, I'm sure. I sighed, pulling myself off the couch just enough to reach into my back pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. One in particular that sat right in the middle of Odin's journal, and at the center of it sat a symbol. I passed the paper to her and let my eyes return to her arm, determined to get this done before the minute was up.

The Supremacy believes, like most religious kooks, that one day the sky will split in two and some magical being is going to descend from the heavens and set their wrath upon those that are deemed impure, and all will be right in the world. Of course, as I'm sure you've guessed, this tale favors vampires, and by contrast, doesn't favor us one bit. My preacher-esque tone faded and my eyes darted to the bottle again, finding it far more interesting than the patch job I had nearly completed, but I pushed forward, going in for the final stitch and rushing through it as if my life depended on it. That, I pointed to the symbol, is their crucifix, star of david, and so on and so on. And needless to say, this is what motivates them.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 4:53 am

Tick tock, tick tock. Time whittled away and it was making me fucking nervous. A sheen of sweat was developing on my forehead, wasn’t from the pain, wasn’t from the exhaustion. It was much worse than that. Clutching the jacket to my midsection I felt around in its folds for something even more precious than the collar sitting on the table. Growling much louder this time I almost snatched my arm away from him, catching myself before I did it. “Little flesh wound? Bet this shits all over anything you’ve ever gotten.” Be Kind, Be Kind. Nope. Nope. “You think you could handle this piss-ant? Think you could stroll around with it for five days? Yeah, fuck off you could.” Soon as the angry self-righteous defensive snarl left my face I regretted it. Five days. You dumb bitch. It was probably longer than that even but still it was a fucking stretch.

Rushing back into another topic was my only escape from what was becoming a very bad conversation. “True, you didn’t chase me out of town like some fucks but come on now you had an issue before I dipped out on the Fanger assault…and need I remind you, I explained why that happened, I even apologized for it, kind of…and I don’t apologize.” I was almost rambling now. Lips moving fast as if it would speed me away from the subject of how I could stroll about with a wound this bad for almost a week without….dying. “But fine, no more whining, I’m here now.”

What was worse than the wound topic was that of the collar. Be Open. Fuck this prophecy. Fuck it so hard. At least I could tell him this part without going into the nitty gritty about the pack yet. “Missing wolves started coming back, first stragglers, unranked members and they had crappy discount collars on.” I shuddered noticeably when I thought about it. Those Walmart collars, probably their first try at manufacturing them. They were worse than the final polished product. “They’re still, in there? Conscious I guess, sometimes you could see in their eyes that they knew what they were doing but couldn’t do anything to stop it.” My voice had grown quieter. The room felt smaller. “Then the ranked returned. Warlords, Fighters. They came with new and improved collars like this one. Killing machines, nothing else.” I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck understanding exactly why Onyx was doing the same thing. Horrifying. He hadn’t even seen it, the way the flesh was all ragged, disfigured. “I was on the outskirts of the main Den when the first warlord came back, he had been missing for over a month….he attacked me…I defended myself…this was his.” Waving my hand over the collar on the table I let out a long sigh. I was not proud of it, especially since I had resorted to bashing his skull in with a rock to get the thing off him after he was dead. Nothing about my time before arriving here was to sing home about though.

“Well fuck if you’ve been so damn busy then spill! I’ve been making an inventory of the path of destruction and collecting evidence and you’ve been doing what..?” I took the bit of paper and almost dropped it in a second. “I’ve seen this.” My vision swum and I felt very very fucking sick all of a sudden. Almost throwing the symbol back in his face I grabbed the nearest bottle and devoured a good two thirds of the content before taking a breather. Gasping with the fire travelling down my throat and the sudden jab of panic I finally managed to force out speech. “They took Warlords, Fighters, Spiritual Leaders, pups….never Pack Leaders….every corpse I found of an Alpha had this carved into their chest.”

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 5:44 am

Yeah, you're right. I replied, thinking to the scarring that covered most of my body. She may be an insufferable little shit most of the time, but she was still a woman. And if she wanted to win the ''who has it worse'' contest, I'd let her. Frankly at this point, I was certain we both had it pretty fucking bad simply by being the only two wolves in this town, as far as I knew anyway. And there lies the difference between you and me. Because I wouldn't, I would find a way to take care of myself and my injury. Not stroll around with exposed muscle and the threat of infection. But you're right, you're stronger than me. My sarcastic tone probably did nothing to lighten the mood. Five days though... Interesting. You have a magic wand hidden in your bag of tricks or are you the only wolf on the planet that could outlive a cockroach by sheer force of will? Her pain tolerance was high, if what she was saying was true, probably higher than mine, I could admit. But a high pain tolerance isn't exactly an antibiotic.

You can shove your excuses, honestly. I may not trust you, I may never trust you, but at least now I know that I don't trust you. It should make whatever this is, alliance I guess, a lot easier to deal with without the burden of expectation.

The topic of the collars in particular had my attention. This was new information, among the other new information I'd been unfortunate enough to hear about tonight. This topic in particular had me questioning the safety of my own pack, and what horrors they might be enduring while I sat around unable to die, and unable to be harmed as long as I harbored the vampire queen criminal. So it's like compulsion... They've found a way to compel wolves without magic... I frowned, my expression mostly disgusted at the idea. Training us and putting us in collars like dogs. It was fucking disgusting. Why though? Why use wolves when you have loyal followers at your disposal? I don't get it. The Supremacy wasn't exactly the poster child of logic. But I couldn't help but think a ''scare tactic'' wasn't their style. There had to be a bigger reason.

Her reaction to the symbol wasn't much unlike mine when Jonah and Camille first showed me their copy of it. And it was that similarity alone that told me she had seen this too, long before she admitted it. And when she went on about the symbol, my hand slowly rose up to my chest and I gripped my shirt, swallowing back the raw ball of unease that sat in my throat. That memory alone was one of my most terrifying. Waking up with no memory and some wacko symbol carved in your chest didn't do much to convince yourself of your sanity. And hearing what she had to say about other alpha's... Had I done it? Was it me running around and carving symbols into wolves chests during my blackouts?

I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my arm, avoiding eye contact despite wanting to do the opposite. So bottom line... If you're wolf, you're either dead, stuck in one of these fucking collar contraptions, or us. Fan-fucking-tastic. I snatched the bottle out of her hands and took a swig, a part of me wanting to tell her the whole truth and nothing but the truth about what I knew, but another part of me kept leaning towards what I had said earlier, about not trusting her. And frankly, her story did have holes, a lot of it made sense, but a lot of it did have holes that I needed filled before I could admit anything. It was fucking weird, her showing up like this, telling me shit that I know for a damn fact the old version of her wouldn't spill to me of all people on a whim. For all I fucking knew she was sent her by The Supremacy themselves, pandering to my desperation.

I knew why I wasn't stuck in a collar or dead. But if her little tale was true about what she'd been witnessing, I had to ask myself why she was still here? It was shady, it was all too fucking shady.

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