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.
[Closed] This tag should be used for threads that only involve your character.

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] My name is human. - Page 3

[Private] My name is human.

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Re: [Private] My name is human.

Michelle Hawke | Human; Citizen

Posted on Sat May 20, 2017 11:15 pm

My nails. That’s where it started, and my left hand was worse, so I used my right to kind of press them back into the nail beds because it made it sting less. As for the shirt, I kept looking around but it was too late, he’d already seen the damage I was hoping to hide. Once I slowed down, it fell over me like a curtain. My skin no longer just burned, it ached. There was a warm throbbing in my neck, and I had to shift my weight onto my right leg to keep my left thigh from feeling like it was going to crumble beneath me. The white noise. Had the satisfaction of my compulsion masked this? I stopped moving at least until he moved me, and I shrieked in shock and pain. But fuck, it wasn’t just physical pain. I’d never even thought about the sound of him yelling at me in anger and now I realized that I feared that more than any physical violence he could do to me. And yes, I meant that as I stood there still bleeding from some of the punctures, bruises forming, almost gritting my teeth inside my mouth in an attempt not to show any signs of pain.

I didn’t even think about it until the words were slipping from my lips, It’s never stopped me be- I didn’t know if I’d stopped myself, or if it had been that flash of his eyes because I was feeling a wave of regret before I was overcome with a strange feeling of dread. With Lilah, there wasn’t a question. The knowledge that she had killed was on the book cover. With Vincent, I knew he could, but I didn’t know he had. What could I say to him? I stared up at him, feeling like my face was tightening into itself so much it was going to fucking implode. My teeth were still pressed together. It was a terrible idea, but my mind for a brief moment went from trying to conceal my own pain, my own expression, to his. Anger? Pain? Both? Still, I couldn’t figure out just what the fuck to say. I ducked from under his grip, backing up, knowing any movement would be a tell-tale sign but I couldn’t stand up any longer. I turned away and slowly, carefully headed for the couch and it scooted back as I actually fell onto it, the music on his stereo masking the awkward sound to an extent.

Fuck. How the hell was I going to get back up? I can’t control it. I wanted to use the word sorry, but I couldn’t and there were many reasons. My right hand gripped my left again, pressing onto my nails. Even as everything started waking up, coming alive again - that still bothered me the most. It wasn’t more pain - it just bothered me in the same way as metal against glass. Sorry wasn’t good enough of a word, and in my short time I knew people. He probably wouldn’t hear it if I said it, or understand it. The word sorry at this moment would be nothing but a tear in the river.

The first tear rolled down my cheek, and I knew I could only fight one thing. The tears, the pain, the sudden… exhaustion. My body began to quiver and I eyed the door. Would I still be injured if I shifted? Would it relieve the pain. I then scanned the floor. My shirt was between me and the door. A direct line. I can’t talk- and my throat caught and I realized I wouldn’t be able to get another word out without crying. Shirt? I pleaded and it came out strangled. Fuck I had to get out of here.

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Re: [Private] My name is human.

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun May 21, 2017 5:41 pm

Yes, I wanted her to scream. This time I wanted her to scream and it wasn't the wolf that wanted it, it was me. I wanted her to be terrified. I wanted her to be scared fucking shitless so she'd never do this again with anyone. I didn't care if it scared her into her house and she stayed there every single fucking day and night until she was eighty. This wasn't a fucking game, this wasn't us gaming together, this was real, completely fucking real and I needed her to know it. Did she have any idea of what it was like? When every night your head hit your pillow you had to mentally list all of the things you'd done wrong, all of the wrong that had been done to you just so you could get it out, just so your eyes had a reason to close and not stay open wide with fear and pain for hours, staring at the ceiling while your body is being pushed down by the weight of your living nightmare and grief? I could practically feel it now. That weight, and this time I could have sworn my chest was caving in from it. It would be just my luck too, that this one moment of grief would be the one that finally crushed me under it's boot. Like the cockroach I was.

When she pulled away, I let her. My jaw was dropped and I just watched her like I was witnessing a car wreck, completely helpless to stop it. What does that mean? I asked without hesitation, wanting an answer that I still probably wouldn't understand. The fucking Ancient kept popping up in my mind too. That look on her face when she'd talked of Michelle, the things she implied that Michelle did. Is this... My breathing was heavy and I didn't know why. My eyes darted around rapidly like I didn't know where I wanted to look, but they kept landing back on her wounded body. A pain in my chest every fucking time I saw it. ...Is this what you do... Is this what you do with them? I asked, but my tone was accusing and disgusted before she'd even been given the chance to answer. Is that what I am to you? Another... Another creature to satisfy your curiosity? Fuck that thought stung. To go from thinking you had a friendship with someone, to being another trophy on their shelf, mixed in with the rest of the fangers that had done nothing but take everything I loved, everything I cared about, and destroyed it while forcing me to watch.

She moved, and so did I. I wanted her to look at me and fucking explain what the hell had just happened. And maybe what I really wanted was selfish. For her to tell me that I hadn't done anything wrong, as if her saying it would convince me. It fucking wouldn't, I knew that, but I still needed it. You can't control what?! All I was getting were answers that sprouted new fucking questions. That was all I seemed to get lately from everyone, not just her. I guess I just had higher expectations for her in particular. And if she'd left right then, I would have gone on staying fucking pissed as hell. I would have drank myself into a coma and had myself the kind of sleep only one too many drinks could provide. I'd have woken up angry, I'd have trained angry, I'd have continued being angry because it was what I knew best, it was what I did best... But she didn't. And I saw it, the tear falling down her cheek and my breathing got even heavier. I fucking had raped her.

It just kept getting worse, the tone in her voice, the incomplete sentences. Now I really couldn't look at her. I plopped into my chair, elbows on my knees and head in my hands. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry. When my hands finally slipped down I looked to her, wide fearful eyes. How bad is it? The...My wide eyes zig-zagged down her frame, looking at every mark, every streak of blood, every puncture wound that made her look like she'd just been shot, all of it. Are you in pain? OH fuck...

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Re: [Private] My name is human.

Michelle Hawke | Human; Citizen

Posted on Sun May 21, 2017 6:45 pm

What the hell could I say? There was no explaining it in this context. It’s not like I knew he’d killed - oh. My head snapped up to look at him, feeling like my heart had just fallen into my gut. My skin crawled when I thought about it, the thought of mixing what I had with him to what I had with Lilah. My biggest - no, my second biggest fear had just been realized. That he’d find out, and would never be able to see what I felt for him. Why with him I had tried so hard for it to be different. No, wait, I hadn’t. I didn’t try to fight it at all. There was no fighting it now, tears poured down my face and I shook my head. Never, But it only came out as a whisper.

In that brief moment before he’d said anything I had found myself almost praying that he’d blacked out, that he wouldn’t remember any of it except for maybe the beginning. Wouldn’t that have been convenient? What did I say? What could I say? The best I could do was take the hit. Now wasn’t the time to be selfish. God, it would be hard, and the realization of that was a whole new thing of its own. He was my hot neighbor, right? Why did it matter? But it did. Do you know what death means to me? I tried shifting, wincing as I did. My thigh throbbed and the pain was just growing. Would it be wrong of me to “borrow” some Jack? What death means to someone who was never meant to be alive? Home. I couldn’t stand the way the words sounded when they came out of my mouth, how hard it had been to force them out and now I was crying. He’d forced me to talk, to speak more than just one word and I was angry that I didn’t have the resolve to just get up and leave. I started to, I started to push myself up with my hands so that I could just leave. But it was almost like any light in the room just started growing whiter and the white started to take over my vision. I stopped, I sank back down into the couch, fingers gripping the edge, and took a deep breath. What the fuck was I planning to do, anyway? Walk out into the street naked? Even if I shifted, I’d have to land somewhere.

Vincent I begged you for this, I said through gritted teeth. I begged, I pushed, I provoked. I knew exactly what I was doing, I fucking deserve every bit of this. The first part had been said staring at him, but with the rest my head fell to the floor. I’m gonna be fine. Can you just… I just need clothes. I just need to go home.

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Re: [Private] My name is human.

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon May 22, 2017 12:44 pm

Another candle snuffed out by the dark. I couldn't just keep it in my pants. I couldn't just appreciate what we had. A friendship, two people that could sit down and disappear into this fantasy, that life was a fucking comedy filled with video games and mental conversations about aliens and zombies. No I had to take this rare fucking gem and not just break it, but fucking shatter it into a million pieces so it could never be repaired. Fuck her for doing this. Fuck me for doing this.

You want me to take you home? Is that what you want Michelle? Now I was really giving into it. And I guess I had made a conscious decision to do exactly what I was doing. It wasn't just a rage filled, random outburst. It was intentional. The emerging of my claws and fangs, the glowing of my eyes, even the snarl, which wasn't playful but fucking inhuman sounding, I could practically hear my phone rattling on the table from the vibration of the growl that followed. I was trying to fucking scare her. I was trying to make sure she'd never come here again, so I could never do this to her again. I wanted her to run far fucking away from me and never come back. I needed her to fear me.

She'd already given me plenty of signs that she didn't actually want to die. I just needed her to realize it, even if it meant she fucking hated me for it. She needed to realize it. Maybe on some level she did, or maybe her tears were from a pain I didn't know she felt... Or maybe her tears were from the obvious pain she felt. That pain was marked all over her body, like a map, one I followed, leading me to a constant unforgiving realization that I was a fucking monster.

I shot up from my chair, those words repeating in my head over and over and over again. I begged, I pushed, I provoked. And how weak was I? To give into the provocation of my cool next door neighbor? To ruin, with little hesitation, one of the few good things in my life? Her words did nothing to direct the blame on her, and everything to remind that the blame was with me. It was always with me.

I hadn't even realized that I'd retrieved her shirt for her, it sat on the couch beside her, and everything about me had gone cold. I knew she could feel it, I wasn't the same person to her anymore and I was gonna make sure that wouldn't change. I could take it all away. I could fix this for you. But I'm not going to. Because you need to remember what I am. You need to remember what I'm capable of... What I can do. What I will do to you whether I want to or not. I sat down, doing everything in my power to make this miserable for her. Everything I could to keep her away from me. And fuck, it hurt more than I thought it would. You need to leave. Now.

Yes, fucking hate me. Please. Hate. Me.

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Re: [Private] My name is human.

Michelle Hawke | Human; Citizen

Posted on Tue May 23, 2017 11:48 am

Not you, I thought. And for the first time, I would have been okay with it, “going home”, at least at that very moment. But I would have to take myself there, because I couldn’t lay that guilt on him - even if I felt now like I completely deserved whatever wrath he had for me. The pain didn’t stop me from wincing, almost caving into myself, my fists covering my face and after the monstrous noise I let the fetal position loose, a wave of nausea hitting me and my body beginning to tremble - again. But something held me there. I knew I needed to leave, but that something, the same thing that tempted me to push the gas and aim the steering wheel toward the river, locked me there. STOP! I screamed, my face already beginning to feel raw. There’s no way he could know I in no way meant that for his ears.

I didn’t look at him again, I just saw a figure darting around in my periphery. I wasn’t pleading with him, I wasn’t trying to make him understand. I also wasn’t trying to push him away, at least not yet. No, there was no room for that. There was an actual war in my head, my fingers clawed at my thighs and I gritted my teeth and rapid breaths filtered through them. I saw the shirt beside me, I fought to move, to put it on, but I felt locked, locked in place and I felt my skin burn as if it was on fire. You won’t see me again, Vincent. It’s not yours to worry about anymore. That was a feat and it was still said through gritted teeth. I put the shirt on, staring forward, glaring. Determination? Anger? Or a wall I was quickly building to mask the fear and pain. I put the shirt on. I stood up, and let the white begin to take over, but I knew I had to beat it, at least to the door. And I did, barely. Just as I reached the door, opening it slightly my knees buckled but I shifted and was gone, the door still parted open behind me.

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