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
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 [Private] Misery Business - Page 5

[Private] Misery Business

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 7:51 am

I wasn’t. Wouldn’t say that out loud of course but it was true. All wolves had an excellent sense of smell that was a fact, the only real superstars had gifts that were completely linked to this supernatural ability and then there were scouts. Trackers, hunters, assassins that packs sent out to do various tasks. Bring a lone wolf meant I had been forced to pretty much become self-taught in the act of really paying attention and pulling apart scents. This was how I knew he could best me in combat. Before, when I’d first met him I knew I would end up victorious. Not a push over because of the Alpha stamina and power but it would have been me with the gold around my neck. Now? Well now his scent was different. He couldn’t squash me just yet but I wouldn’t be top doggie anymore. “So sorry that finding living breathing wolves was more important than getting a boo boo seen to.” It was testament to how far I was willing to go was it not? How important the act of protecting our kind was to me.

Explaining the time period, and I was sure I had reduced it from the actual stretch, how was I going to do this? It was one thing to be open, it was another to shoot myself in the face with my own shotgun. “That was an exaggeration, clearly.” Nice save, kind of. Yeah, that will do. Grabbing my phone I checked the timer on the alarm with the desperation of someone who was waiting for an important call about the birth of a baby or some shit.

49mins

“I don’t even trust me so you can join the untrusting club in which I am the president.” Mumbling I put the phone back down on the coffee table, though I couldn’t stop myself from constantly looking over at it even as I was talking to Onyx. It needed to be close to the alarm, juggling this was going to be interesting. “What I’m getting at is you can trust me with a suicide mission, but I wouldn’t trust me with say…your credit card, a hotter younger brother or your truck.” Ahhh yes, Onyx’s truck, good times, good times.

Nodding I checked out the Pack Masters handy work on my arm, shrugging at the result. Could have been worse, now I just needed to see how it was going to heal. “Mind control yeah…dunno about the lack of magic though…I saw, other shit that didn’t involve contraptions but this seemed to be something they were perfecting.” Magic was still a big possibility, not one I had to admit I had considered at all. “Didn’t want to get their hands dirty? We’re such low life scum that it was beneath them? Thought it would be funny to watch us wreck our own families?” Throwing up obvious and unimaginative excuses was easy but I knew what I had decided long ago was the reasoning behind it. Looking up straight into his eyes I said evenly and seriously. “It’s because it makes it harder to defend ourselves, would you honestly say you could gut Orion, that you could tear Ozras heart out, decapitate me?...okay maybe that last one isn’t so hard, but think about it.” We would fight hard against actual Fangers, against anything they would send our way. Put a family member, a lover, a friend, a leader in front of us and we floundered.


As he grabbed his chest with the thought of Alphas getting crude post-mortem tattoos I felt a flutter in my own. “That won’t happen to you, I won’t let it.” As quickly as I had said it I moved on to a pressing matter. “Sewing has happened, as has booze….are you gonna cook me some breakfast while I have a shower?” Privacy is what I needed. One could hope that the bathroom had a lock on the door. "Pretty please with dead fangers on top" Batting my eyelashes I gave him the best puppy dog eyes I could muster under the circumstances.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 8:31 am

For fucking hell, I wasn't about to get myself balls deep into the logic that she had clearly missed. A dead wolf, is a useless wolf. Which was exactly why her injury should have been a priority. Then again she was still here and kickin', so what the fuck did the arguement matter? It didn't. The temptation to further the argument was there, but realistically we could have gone back and forth for who knows how long over a topic that didn't even fucking matter. Saint Luxx, searching for wolves to grant them the promise of aid that she would ultimately betray. Unless that shitty promise was strictly reserved for me, in which case, wasn't I special?

I watched her grab for her phone and tried to pay attention. My eyes narrowed, more and more as I watched more than I listened, which was something  I had admittedly mastered when it came to conversation with women. But something was getting under my skin, something I thought was just her natural ability, her wolf ability perhaps, being annoying and ridiculous in the middle of serious conversations. But no, it was something else, and if I bit my tongue any harder I might be the one spitting up globs of sexy blood. Is there somewhere you need to be? A phone call you're expecting? I mean for fucks sake, it's not like you just showed up in the middle of the fucking woods and tossed me a hot grenade filled with grim fucking information or anything. Fuck, I didn't need attention but a bit more focus on the shithole conversation we were having would have been nice, fuck.

Cute, but until I witness you throwing yourself into the flames for the cause, I'm inclined to believe otherwise. I'm sure you understand. I can't trust her with ''my credit card'', but I can trust that she'll happily let her own head roll for the good of wolf kind. That made perfect fucking sense.

This is too much. What you're saying makes sense. It would be harder to fight against our own kind, for many reasons, and I understand that part. I just find it hard to understand the purpose of it all. The symbol, some wolves dead, others apparently stuck in mind control collar contraption things, stragglers like you and me left behind for no reason, what the fuck is the end game here? They can't possibly expect to successfully eliminate wolves completely? And why would they fucking want to? Aren't we the filet fucking mignon among a sea of fast food to them? Was there some war against them that I missed and this is some revenge mission? It makes no fucking sense unless they've all gone off their fucking rockers crazy. My head hurt, too many questions that I didn't expect answers to. And more importantly, my questions applied even knowing what I knew regarding their plans with Lilith. I was under the impression that was their primary focus, so why deviate just to enslave and slaughter?

Right, food, and you need to hydrate. Bathrooms that way, I pointed behind her and got up, rubbing my eyes as my feet traveled towards the kitchen. Everythings in there. I'll see what we have to eat. Most likely she'd be getting a hot bowl of macaroni for breakfast, unless she was interested in having a bowl of stale cheerios and whiskey.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 8:56 am

Shaking my head dumbly about the ghostly phone call I could or could not be receiving I almost completely silently and obediently did as I was told. That was only because this was exactly what I wanted to happen. Even as I headed down in the direction of his gesture I know I needed to backtrack. Stragglers like you and me. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Stopping in the doorway of what I was sure was the bathroom I almost spun about and went right back to the kitchen. What?...I didn’t…fuck. It would have to wait, I really needed to get myself sorted.

First thing was first. Phone on the vanity so I could watch the timer thunder onward. Next was to turn the shower on to drown out any possible noise and to of course coax the hot water from the pipes. Then came the stripping. Staring at myself in the mirror was quite a rollarcoaster ride. I looked like misery. “Holy fuck Luxx, you actually got a hug looking like an extra from Night of the Living Dead” Whispering to the reflection I grinned with a weird sense of accomplishment. Leaning in I took a closer look at my eyes. Bloodshot and getting worse. Gaze flicking down to the phone I jiggled around a bit in the complete nude wondering if I should shower first. Putting my busted arm tentatively under the stream of water changed my mind right away. Wincing and letting out a rather loud “Fuck” I decided that 30mins was going to have to be good enough.

Retrieving the destroyed parka off the tiles I rummaged around in the fabric to locate two vials. Both were filled with a slightly congealed thick red substance. I grasped them to my chest with a longing and disgust. Vampire Blood. What would Onyx think if he found out I was a pathetic blood addict now? A fucking junkie. My body was being boosted by this shit. It dulled the pain, made me faster, stronger and increased the rate in which I healed. I needed less sleep, less food, less water…in fact I had to remind myself that even though the blood told me that I didn’t need those things at all, that wasn’t true. Sure, I’d seen what drinking fanger blood did to a wolf eventually but in the beginning I thought I could stop. Not that I’d really intended to start, but here I was, in Onyx’s bathroom sneaking in a quick line before dinner. The alarm clock was to keep my dosages on a timer. Withdrawals were getting stronger earlier each time but I was managing not to just go on an all-out bender on the junk. I’m sure that would be a wild night, but it would be my last I was sure of it. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to do this. Even as I opened a vial I didn’t want to be such a pitiful excuse for a wolf but my will was already stretched thinner than a catwalk model.

“Super chunky today.” Extra gross. The taste wasn’t good at all but that wasn’t the draw. It took a moment for the horribly warm but glorious feeling to sink into my bones. While I was tempted to drop some on my wound I knew that was stupid. Watching my eyes in the mirror I saw the pupils dilate, the blood vessels calm down and a rosy glow rise on my cheeks.

The shower was delicious. Hot water directly on a newly sewn injury was no problem. Onyx didn’t have anything but that shit soap he always smelt of but it was better than the stench of death. As I got cleaner, and the vamp blood heightened all my senses I suddenly realized what Onyx might have meant. Angrily climbing out of the shower I half attempted to dry myself, tugged and tucked the towel around me and then almost forgot about the second vial. Was going to need that for later, but I wasn’t that much of a burnout that I would shove it in my vagina just to walk it past the Gestapo.

Where the fuck was I going to put this? His shower had a few bottles of stuff, just sitting there accumulating soap skum so I grabbed one that felt mostly empty, opened it and shoved the vial inside. It was a snug fit so I would have to remind myself not to squeeze it or the vial might shatter.


Satisfied with my makeshift hiding place I flung open the door and stormed down to the kitchen. Dripping water onto the floor as I went, clasping the towel as best I could to cover the vital areas. Looking clean and surprisingly radiant in comparison to before. “What the fuck did you mean by ‘straggler like you and me’ are you trying to say you’re the only one here?!” It wasn’t meant to come out so harshly or so loud but my blood was pumping in my ears. Drugged up fury.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 9:27 am

I was surprised to find some bread that wasn't moldy, and just enough scraps at the bottom of a jar to make a sandwich. Which wasn't for her sake, even if she was going to get more nutrients from a sandwich than mac n' cheese. Sandwiches were just easier. I mean fucking hell I needed something easy, the longer I stood in the kitchen angrily slopping mayo onto bread the more I struggled to ignore the fact that I was making her a fucking sandwich after sewing up her arm while she was using my shower. What the fuck was this? The Holiday Inn? Since when did I turn into a kennel, welcoming injured strays in off the street to provide them with a meal and some grooming? This was fucked up.

I leaned my ear towards the bathroom after thinking I heard her talking to herself, but shrugged my shoulders as I reminded myself that sleep was a slippery mother fucker lately and I couldn't seem to get a good grasp on it. Plus I wasn't the epitome of sanity lately either. Hearing shit was the norm. So I plopped the shitty made sandwich on a plate and lightly tossed it onto the table. There, her ''breakfast'' was made, and while it waited to be eaten, I moved to the liquor cabinet and got my breakfast ready. Preparation was easy, just twist off the cap and suckle on the teat of success.

With nothing but my drink an my thoughts, I found myself running circles around the information she had given me. I made some obvious connections between what she had said, and what I knew to be true, most of which were disturbing to say the least. And as I brought the bottle up for another sip, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The name on the screen was one I definitely didn't have time to talk to, Ursula. Not while my new house guest was still roaming around. And just as I hit ignore and shoved my phone back into my pocket, hopped up onto the counter and gripped my bottle firmly in my hands, the door opened.

She had gone from a woman I wouldn't fuck even if it meant the end of man or wolf kind, to a woman that would make a better impression if she wasn't so focused on holding that damn towel up. The power of a shower I guess. And of course, the second she opened her mouth my opinion shifted back to to the former. What? I thought back, but it didn't take long for me to realize the words that had slipped out of my own mouth. Don't you think if I was I would have told you? I knew it was a shitty save, in fact it wasn't a save at all and I was tempted to give my compulsion on supers another try to wipe her memory of it entirely.

It wasn't literal for fucks sake. Now we were getting somewhere. It's not like I've ever been a part of the family around here. So no, I'm not saying I'm the only one here. Now go put some fucking clothes on and eat. I didn't know what else to say, she'd either believe me or she wouldn't, and if she didn't, I'd have to pull some damage control out of my ass.

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Re: [Private] Misery Business

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Aug 30, 2016 10:00 am

One issue with slamming back some Fanger blood and then trying to act normal was that, well it was a fucking lie. Sure I was one of the best actors around, I’d had Onyx believing once that I was the type of wolf that should be allowed to hang out in One Shot and shoot the shit, when really I’d spent half my time trying to usurp his leadership. Not going to be bringing that up in story-time sessions, like ever. ”Would you? Would you tell me? You just finished giving me a spiel on how you didn’t trust me.” Another big issue was if this dog got a bone when strung out she didn’t know when to drop it. “Not part of a family? Last time I was here there was like…a small band of wolves? Well…not small but not large either...that thought you were a fucking loser but for the most part everyone was jumping on the Onyx fail train.”

I had been gone for quite a long time but there was something all round fishy. So if they weren’t his family, then how was he still their Pack Master? If they didn’t accept him and he didn’t accept them then how was it he hadn’t been merc’d by a warlord yet? Too many questions and right now I would just make myself go manic trying to answer all of them.

Striding across the room I got right up in his face, searching his eyes for a sign that he was bullshitting. I just couldn’t believe that Onyx would be that selfless that he would send his pack away for their safety and go it alone because that was also a possible option. Making himself a Lone. Nah, no way. “I don’t have anything to wear.” Speaking slowly I stepped back before the smell of Alpha made my hands instinctually drop my towel. “What I was wearing needs to be given a funeral, burnt and buried.”


There was no cooking smells, which made me frown a little. Pushing my luck wasn’t a good idea but I couldn’t help but poke the sleeping bear a couple of times. “Pretty sure the deal was for a hot meal, but you Gordan Ramsey’d up a sandwich huh?” Spying the plate I walked over grabbed it and peeked inside, gasping dramatically. “Oh shit, and you put mayo in there…christ how ever did you do it?” Laughing out loud I took a bite and gestured to my towel dress indicating that clothing needed to be allocated.

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