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.
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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] Release the Bats - Page 2

[Private] Release the Bats

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Re: [Private] Release the Bats

Natasha Sinclair | Vampire; Aged

Posted on Sat Jul 08, 2017 1:14 pm

Who ate my knuckle sandwich? Why are my pearly white teeth stuck in my gums and not decorating the floor like a snapped bead necklace? Why isn’t my pretty ass levelled out in a mound of bricks in another room somewhere? Why isn’t the world spinning round in circles like I’ve been drinking vodka out a brown paper bag on a children’s carnival ride all night? The fuck just happened here?

If there’s one thing I was hoping Daron’ll do the moment I heard those bones crack it was flatten me on my ass (or try to, at least). I know he wanted to.

Common sense tells me the kid is steaming on decades of rage, rage against me, rage against me and all my never-ending bullshit. But see I am a conscious bitch – I know I have issues. I don’t make excuses for it. And I wasn’t about to now.

My fingertips rattled upon the cold wet tin of the can to the rhythm of Cold. My fingers seemed to pummel that cylinder to the beat of a human heart, a dying heart slowing down to its final pump. I lowered my eyes upon the brown droplets sliding down the label and shrugged my shoulders before throwing my blonde head back and chugging down every last drop in one gulp. I swung the can away from my face, crushed it inside a fist as the back of my hand wiped away at a rouge nightmare that used to be blow-job ready lipstick.

I reached a hand towards blond hairs swinging before my eyes and tucked them behind an earlobe as my brows furrowed upon his body plopping down on that couch, hands wrestling with the straps of his boots. The couch drank itself of the blood pooling under his crushed shoe, sucked every drop into its cushions as if everything in this room had a taste for blood.

I cocked a brow at his final remark and tugged the corners of my mouth into a smirk, “I agree. Ain’t easy handlin’ all this woman. Most men need’a be drunk first.”

My ruby lips parted as a forefinger slipped onto a sharp canine. The tooth clicked into place, bursting straight through the nail. My eyes squeezed shut at the shock of pain as metal droplets saturated my tongue and blood trickled down the appendage.

I lowered myself onto both knees before the couch and turned my head up to stare at the wounded bastard burning his sights into those mangled toes instead of me. I reached my bloody hands out for his boot and tore apart the remaining straps as my green eyes narrowed upon the ashen face turned down from mine, “I want you to remember me Daron. I don’t want you to drink me out of existence.”

My hands fiercely yanked open the final strap.

I stared down at the elaborate straps hanging along the sides of the boot, roughed up, strewn over each other, but undamaged from my rough treatment. A sigh of relief blew through my nose. My hand gripped the back of the shoe and eased it away from his foot like a nurse pulling a sticky band aid off a child.

I stared down at the steel shards jutting from his massacred toes and a smirk stretched across my cheeks, “Totally pegged you as tha type ta wear jaw-breaka boots. Makes tha two ‘a us. See? We got things in common?” I raised my brows at him as my hand plucked metal shards up from his skin, cutting themselves on the rough edges as my fingertips pinched up the glittering debris littered throughout his foot until blood soaked through the delicate skins of my fingerpads. Sounds painful. But it didn’t hurt as much as this damn fool avoiding my eyes.

I sighed and stroked my bleeding forefinger across the mashed toes before my wound finally closed. I brushed my fingertip along that wound like a mother rubbing ointment on her son. “Should heal in record time wit’ both our blood mixin’ together.”

I stared up at him for a moment, with my green eyes narrowed into a squint, simply flittering about his features as if I could stare through them somehow, see what he may not want me to see, “You know why I did it, right? Why I turned this beautiful foot into a Picasso painting?” I reached my bloody hand out for his knee and my nails clamped around the bone like the legs of a spider, tugging my face closer towards him until our foreheads touched so he couldn’t ignore the emerald eyes staring into his soul, “To remind you that sire bonds are not built upon loyalty, or trust, or even subservience, but pain. The bond between a sire and his Maker is not some magical affair humans write trashy love stories about, it’s the agonizing pain shared between a slave master and his enslaved. I’m sure you know that pain very well.”

My face turned sideways and rubbed its cheek against his deathly cold face as my eyes darted sideways at him, “And I’m sure you’re gonna replay that scene, ovah ‘n ovah, wonderin’ why you didn’ do it when tha impulse hit.”

The hand on his knee released its hold, sliding down his leg to rest upon the couch cushion, beside a graveyard of crushed metal. I stared down at the crimson staining his toes and brushed my fingertips at it until white shone through, “But it ain’t gotta be this way. Our bond ain’t gotta come from a shithouse behind a 711.”

I slid away from the couch and sat my rump upon the back of my heels. My hands rested beside his foot upon the stained cushions, rattling their pads to the beat of another song that almost shattered my eardrums. I stared down at the avalanche of blood seeping between his toes until the entire world went red and blurry. Could I trust my own words to carry the weight of the sentiments behind them? Or would I just dig myself into a deeper hole. One so deep I end up in fucking China someplace. Shit I was gonna try. Have no choice.

I furrowed my brows, lips pinching into a pucker as my face turned up to look at him, “What if I told you, that if you heard my reason for leaving you all your hatred would dissolve into relief. Would you believe me or would you think I was full ‘a shit?”

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Re: [Private] Release the Bats

Daron Wynyard | Vampire; Young

Posted on Wed Aug 09, 2017 12:25 am

Every fucking syllable from her lips infuriated me. Years of hanging off her every word. What few she would offer me and the moment I felt I had finally broken free of blonde Guantanamo Bay was when she wanted to speak to me. When the sound of her voice just made me want to drop an atomic bomb on the stadium and be done with it all. To be free of her. “Remember you?” An empty echo of something I didn’t want to do. I’d resorted to even deleting her name from my inner thoughts. Always referring to her as my Maker and nothing more. Like giving her a title beyond that made her more real.

The babying made the rage even worse. A fury I didn’t know what to do with but had endless fantasies relating to. It sickened me to know I’d gone through stages of grief before I’d turned my humanity off. Back in the recesses of my mind I had a plethora of scenarios where I’d make her pay for treating me like I was nothing. Acting upon any of them was an admittance of having fucks to give. As always Natasha was making it difficult. “Grand. We’re boot buddies. I’m jumping for joy inside I really am.” As cold as I could manage to be. Which should have been easy all things considered.

When I didn’t think it could get any more twisted she mixed her blood with mine. Another scenario I had played out over and over. Wanting so badly to get as close as possible to her. My hand gripped the couch with an intensity that sent my fingernails tearing right into the fabric. This bullshit she was pulling needed to stop. Natasha was just trying to play me. Unravel all the independence I had gained from her absence. All the progress I had made. Denying a bond when one still existed.

I avoided her eyes but made a very conscious attempt to not make it seem like I was purposefully trying to do so. Until I had no choice but to look directly into those Nuclear reactor jade. Yes. I understood pain. The physical was nothing now. In fact, at times it was a way to remind myself that I could feel. In no way did I long for real emotions anymore. Only true ties that weren’t created by the tether that bound me to Natasha. Her hands freely roaming about like she owned me. Just another item in the lost and found.

“Funny. Great joke Natasha. You have me in stitches. Or maybe lacerations is a better word.” I leaned forward cheek still ringing with a satisfaction I hadn’t felt in a while. “You speak about what our bond is going to be. It never was anything, to begin with.” I’d attracted more of her attention as a human who masqueraded as a Vampire for the image of his band. I’d fought for that limelight fanged. Wanted it more than I had before.

I leaned forward baring my fangs with predatory annoyance. “I don’t need an explanation.” Effortless lies were needed at times. “Never asked for one.” Getting even closer I repositioned my legs. The echoing throb in my foot evaporated. “That’s not the question you should be giving me the answer to.” The slave demanding subservience of the the slave master. “Did you come here just to attempt to school me on pain? Trust me, Natasha, you have never really experienced it.” I launched myself onto her immediately shoving her backward. Breaking a few ribs on her knees but managing to shove my fangs up close to her collarbone while holding her about the throat by one hand. “Me? I have a noble prize in pain. I have you to thank for that.”

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