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] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

[Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

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[Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Thu Jun 08, 2017 1:42 am

Thread Details
St Paul Catholic Church ⋅ Mist/Fog/Thick Cloud ⋅ Early Morning



Day 1







How did Luxx celebrate being welcomed into the Reprisal Pack do you ask? Did she join in on the festivities afterward at One Shot? Passing out drinks with a warm happy grin on her face? Cracking good-natured jokes at the expense of other Wolves, though making it clear she wasn’t trying to be mean? Passing sleepy pups back to their Mothers with promises to tell them a bedtime story another night? Dancing with the others instead of apart from them with more passion than she had in recent months? Inciting drinking games with those that normally would have refused to speak with her just to break the ice? What dream fucking world are you living in crackhead? She had liquor oh yes. Dancing a plenty to try and cleanse herself of things she shouldn’t feel and blood, lots of blood. She spent the evening alone my friends. Alone.




"Father tell me, we get what we deserve
Oh we get what we deserve
And way down we go"


Ear torture. Wasn’t talking about the headphones either. Though the little buds did sit awkwardly in my ears, one stained with crimson as I’d scratched myself trying to stuff it in. Actually, I was forcibly making my stomach wrestle uncomfortably with the fact I was listening to music that reminded me of someone. I’d done my best to give everything back to the Ancestors. Terrified of the revelation. Couldn’t help but get a sense of déjà vu about everything I had done since to try and forget. Like I’d been through this all before. The music was a test. To train myself to listen, to connect but to not feel a fucking thing that I shouldn’t. Attempting to replace one emotion with another. At least I wasn’t going to have to try and redirect my brain away from the fucking obvious for long. No drawn out incubation period where this would be left to fester and grow into something I couldn’t control.

"Do you dare to look him in the eyes?"


This shit was actually depressing as all hell made especially so by the fact I barely had the energy to walk, let alone dance along. My muscles twitched involuntarily to the beat, distressed that I was unable to do one thing that could portal me to another plane of existence where anything was possible. Everything ached, from my pinky toe to the crown of my head. My breath rattled in my chest. There were a million and one unanswered questions. Billions upon trillions of things that needed to be said and done but every single time my mind began to wander from counting the footsteps I was making, I would viciously reel it back in. No more time for pondering. Just focus on delicately placing my feet in between cracks in the pavement. Using a childhood game to keep myself occupied. Mouthing the odd lyric soundlessly with lips that were caked in dried blood. I was keeping a promise.

When I reached the doors of the church I smiled. Really smiled. Even the gloom of a foggy morning in Index couldn’t take away the delirious manic joy I felt. No-one in their right mind would be happy about the concept of death but I was. I’d had enough. It wasn’t about weakness, about giving up. I had fought harder than I imagined most would have to in their lifetime and I felt like I deserved a nice long fucking nap. I’d never feared death. Looked it right in the face and snarled like I was rabid. For once I knew that when I lost the battle I was about to fight that the Ancestors would be there to pick me up off the ground. Dust off my armor and usher me towards their table to share in their secrets, to see what they saw, to feel what they felt. I’d get to see some familiar faces too. Before walking in I paused, turned, and looked back out into the streets. What would it have been like to be Reprisal? Looking down to my bandaged hand that concealed a wound that had only barely begun to heal I felt my smile broaden. Thank you Vincent. I’ll miss you. Don’t fuck it up too much okay?

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Re: [Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

Helios Tallon | Army of God; Chief

Posted on Sat Jun 10, 2017 8:53 pm

There was no need to hide what I was doing, simply because no one would know. The hour was early, and these halls were not filled with the usual echoes of voices or the persistent drumming of passing feet. The building was silent, not eerie, not deafening, just still. Any other day it may have been filled with the low hum of Samantha as she washed windows and wiped down chairs. Or perhaps the sometimes overzealous debates between hunters. And of course there were the days of mass, which came with their own unique soundboard. The creaking of pews as bodies shifted in their seats or the quiet whisper of prayer.

Not today.

Base of operations had been moved out of the basement of the church some time ago for renovation. I no longer lived there, and the only bodies going in, or out, were those of construction men. However payments had ceased, and without the proper permits, I believed there was no better location for the wolf. The doors leading below were indeed reinforced and soundproof, and the rooms empty and unfrequented by any but myself. While I would have preferred doing this elsewhere, there was no better location, and I was limited on secure and private areas. However the cage that sat at the center of the room felt barbaric. I suppose I should not have felt such things when dealing with a wolf, but I felt a twinge of disgust towards myself for even setting it up. However, it was sturdy, and the bars silver plated. I only hoped it would be enough.

I stood at the center isle, staring towards the door with my hands clasped into one another as I waited. And when they opened, I nodded when she entered. I am glad you came.

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Re: [Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Jun 11, 2017 1:32 pm

“Huh?!” Tugging on the cable hanging over my chest I winced as the plastic of the solid form earbud bit into my delicate ear. Normally I would have had those soft squishy ones or better yet just muffs that covered my whole ear, to trap all the sound inside. Times were tough, the Lone…errr…what the fuck did I call myself now? Whatever. I was broke. X had ceased any and all payments into my account. What I had been given of the Dominions vault had been whittled away, the last sunk into One Shot’s renovations. Three bucks is all I had and that had gone on a new set of earplugs for my phone because I was forever breaking mine. Wasn’t going to need cash where I was going anyway. I carefully collected the wires and stuffed them inside the jacket pocket. I’d collected a few belongings from my room. My little backpack wasn’t large enough for my hoard of clothes all bought with blood money so I’d left them all behind. All I had was my Sequoia canteen, Onyx’s leather jacket, the necklace from Gayle and the duplicate I had of Leafa’s doll. Apollo’s bracelet still around my wrist, covered by the long sleeves of the hooded cloak I now wore everywhere. It hid my face from not just everyone else but from myself.

Didn’t need to shield the Priest, he had already seen the depths of decay I’d gotten to, so I peeled back the shield that had been lowered, flopping it back over my head. “Good Morning.” My voice was as bright and as cheerful as I could manage given my voice box was beginning to crackle. Like having my usual tone filtered through rusty razor blades. Tried to smile too but I knew that the expression I was attempting to form did so not come out looking anything like the grin of a happy Wolf. I knew if I stopped and thought there were so many reasons not to be joyful about what I was doing. How many loose ends I’d cut off and left trailing behind me. Couldn’t allow myself to consider any of them. While I wasn’t intending on rolling over and playing dead immediately I didn’t want to have any reason to fight maniac hard. Just enough brawl to show that I wasn’t a coward, that I was indeed strong but not to the extent that I was going to unnecessarily prolong my own misery. I had not heard a single story of a Wolf surviving heavy Fanger blood addiction. Not that there were all that many tales to be heard. As highly as I had once thought of myself, I knew that I would be no exception.

“I have three requests before you show me to my tomb.” Just like Death row inmates who got one meal, a final phone call or letter and their last rites. “Number one is that what I have in my backpack, stays within my sight at all times but always out of reach.” I knew they might be tempting reminders of things I shouldn’t think about. There was some hope that just their presence might just be a comfort in hours to come. “Secondly is that when I die you allow my body to rest for some time. My original pack had a tradition and though I am no longer part of them, they did make me what I am, their history runs through my veins so I’d like to respect their funeral rites. My soul needs time to leave. My body must not be touched during this time. After that if you can just dump the corpse on the doorstep of an address I’ll give you. Should be light as a feather by then.” The Fangers had thought making me sit amongst the dead was a form of additional torture when they had slaughtered most of the Dominion. They had been fucking wrong. I’d always hoped that when I died that I would be able to drag myself from the battlefield to find a quiet secluded place. Where I could guarantee that nobody could interrupt the process of the Ancestors slowly opening their doors to me. “Finally. Don’t suppose some rich old biddy dropped a silver necklace at Sunday service that can be melted down to pour through this?” Talon fingers unraveled the bandage around my hand.

The cross slashes in my palm were angry. A wound that almost now looked as if it had been received post mortem. Some twisted serial killers calling card. “You’re no longer looking at a Lone Wolf but a member of Reprisal. Onyx actually let me in.” Any semblance of a smile left my battered lips. “I want to make it permanent. Not that it's going to matter soon. I just don’t want something disastrous happening, like watching it heal before my eyes.” Had no idea why but that thought filled me with utter dread. Had I really been that desperate for a home that the first one someone had thrown at me I had become that attached to? Fuck it. Once again my mind was pausing on shit that had no future context.

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Re: [Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

Helios Tallon | Army of God; Chief

Posted on Wed Jun 21, 2017 2:47 pm

The wolf had been on my mind. It would have been a lie to say she had ever left it. I did believe that people were drawn to people for a reason. Much like cravings existed to inform your mind that your body needs certain vitamins, the same was true for relationships between individuals. Knowing she was my enemy did nothing to convince me that I should not help her. I felt compelled to do so, and I had to believe there was a reason for that. A reason that I may not have understood yet, but I would eventually. Faith... It was not just a word to use when discussing religion, it was a way of life, and I had it in spades.

I closed my eyes and gently nodded my head, Good morning. It was indeed a good morning. A good morning to keep promises we had both made to ourselves, and to one another. The sound of her voice, her appearance, none of it impacted me in the way I thought it would. It was hard to see beyond the hopeful filter I had come to see her through.

I nodded as she went through her list of requests. Her second request, while I nodded in agreement, would not be done quite so carelessly. I would not dare ''dump'' her body, but rather deliver her remains with the same respect you would show the deceased body of a human. Her third request, I did not nod in agreement, but instead looked at her curiously. I am sure we can find something... There was hesitancy in my voice, I could not fathom why she would want to scar and pain herself so badly. However, I would oblige. Who was I to question the requests of a dying wolf? I had given up that opportunity when I began treating her like my equal. And I was not so sure that, that was a bad thing anymore...

It is time. I spun around and began leading the way to the basement.

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Re: [Private] The Long Shadows of Rotten Miracles

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Mon Jun 26, 2017 4:30 pm

Day One. Mid evening around 7pm.




Time has no meaning.

Just words. In between fits of muscle spasms, that’s all I could think about. Minutes seemed to drag on for hours. Every time I tried to grasp how long I had been in agony for I would hear my inner voice melded of that of Portia’s. Reciting the same line.

Time has no meaning.

I’d tried to stay strong for as long as possible. Just staring the Priest down. Twitching with the undeniable fear of being locked in a cage. Reminding myself I had chosen this. We’d said nothing for the longest time. It felt like we didn’t need to. This wasn’t a time for chitchat. My brain was elsewhere anyway. Trying to find lessons about using fear to a battle advantage without remembering my tutor. When I had been forced from my feet onto my knees with stomach cramps, sweats and twitches I’d found it impossible to try and stop myself from screaming without thinking about my canteen. To keep my eyes focused through the sheen of tears that streamed down my face, I’d locked my eyes on the battered metallic water bottle. I wished I no longer had it. Apollo’s bracelet hung over the top and my twisted fingers trembled over to encircle the wrist it had been on.

Vega had always poked fun of the fact that even though some of the most heated arguments Paul and I ever had was over battle strategies, I still attended his training sessions. The Dominion had a completely opposite viewpoint, an absence of fear nothing but rage. The Sequoia saw fear as being essential to staying alive on the battlefield. Having blitzed all of the Warlords gauntlets, Apollo declared he had set one up just for me, to prove to me I wasn’t ‘all that.’ I’d cockily bounded on into it easily picking out traps and hazards that I had seen in previous runs. Like always Apollo would be waiting at various checkpoints, just watching from his ATV. He had a way of just observing that infuriated me. Just an unreadable expression. Whenever he was watching I tried to showboat to try and get even just a cock of an eyebrow. It was during one of these acrobatic feats that I found myself taken by a series of unfortunate events. Instead of dodging something that anyone in their right mind would have, I took the brunt of a sand bag. Unbeknownst to me what I could see in front of me, what I knew was behind me was not what it seemed. What should have knocked me back momentarily slammed hard. Throwing me back into a tree. Air knocked from my lungs I slid down the bark. All of a sudden I was upside down and something came hurtling towards my neck.



And you’re dead! Releasing my shift I had managed to tumble back down to the forest floor. Laying flat on my back. Well, that was fucking embarrassing. Strung up like a roast chicken. I flopped down ungracefully just as the four wheeler arrived close by.  There was a rustle of bushes and then I was aware of a presence standing over me. I had my eyes fucking shut. Opening one glowing yellow slowly I growled softly in the back of my throat. Apollo peered down at me. Want to know why? Oh, shit was this going to be my very own personal lesson from Sunboy. Fuck my life. Rage allows you to take risks using assumptions. You thought you could gauge how heavy that sandbag was from what you alone could see. Yet if you had just avoided it then you wouldn’t have triggered the trap. My mouth automatically opened to defend my own tactics but nothing came out. From where I was laying I could tell that there had been only one way to not be decapitated. All I’d had to do was recognize the desire to dodge rather than just ignore it. “Technically it would have been all null and void if I wasn’t alone.” Apollo raised both his eyebrows. His lips twitching with the hint of a mischievous smile. True. Not a statement I was expecting from a Lone though. I jerked into a seated position and rubbed the back of my head tenderly. Pulling a blooming twig from a spiral of curls. “Yeah well I’m a piñata of surprises.”

While I was still pondering the contraption that had been so brilliantly concealed I heard him start up the ATV. “Hey! Wait. You’re fucking leaving me here!?” Apollo’s silhouette on the rise just glances over at me and then lightly shrugs its shoulders. “Fucken seriously? I’ll miss the bonfire!” Once again he just shrugs his shoulders and actually rolls forward a little on the wheels. “Prick!” Mimicking a hand gesture I used often, Apollo flipped me the bird and actually twisted the throttle. “No you fucking don’t” Muttering to myself I shifted and belted into a run after the four-wheeler. He had the high ground. Clear of any brush, trees, obstructions of any kind. I had to dodge and weave amongst the greenery that was only just beginning to come back from an intense Summer drought. My yellow eyes darted around trying to find a way that I could either block him off or at least stop him in his tracks without knocking the vehicle completely over. I doubted Paul would be impressed if I fucked his ride. Making a last minute decision I changed paths and barrelled right towards a tree, scrambling up the bark with my elongated claws, using it as a launch pad to spiral through the air towards the four wheeler. Dropping shift mid-air disorientated me. I crashed right into him barely managing to flick a leg over the bike so I didn’t shatter a kneecap. That was risky. He growled and I grinned in response. “Sometimes risks pay off.”


Riding memories of life with the Sequoia helped me to deal with the fear until the agony took over and blotted it out. When the pain in my stomach became too much I’d finally laid down on the ground. Gaze set between the bars. Knew what to expect in the early stages. I’d been through it at Onyx’s after he had left town. Now I was entering new territory. My mouth became slick with excess liquid. When I swallowed to drain it, a metallic taste filled every conceivable sense I had. How much blood was it okay to ingest before it made you sick? Someone had told me once upon and time but I couldn’t remember now. Even though it made me feel pathetic my body curled into a fetal position. Shivers running the full length of every limb. Every stretch of skin coated in a wet sheen. I had expected the first of the muscle spasms, the ferocity of them had led me to drink blood again the first time. This time there was no reprieve and they began to get so horrific that my silence was broken by pitiful moans and vigorous panting. Like fucking contractions, they came in waves, each one more tear-inducing than the last. After the fourth round of these sessions, I’d had enough. I knew I was going to be unable to stop myself from screaming soon.

The desire to be strong at the same time made me weak. It brought me to the side of the cage in a calm period in my storm. So close I could smell the silver in the bars. A wicked smile on my lips to do what a Lone Wolf did best. “I made a mistake taking off my bracelet and necklace. They are so dear to me that I think I would prefer to be wearing them.” Having spent the better part of a day thinking about the Sequoia, their training and Apollo I decided to combine the two objects. Shaming my memories. “That bracelet you see once belonged to someone very important. The necklace too.” Part lie, part truth. I was very attached to the bracelet. I actually longed for it. “Just the necklace will do. My Grandmother gave that to me.” Stooping so low as to sully my Grandmothers memory too. My eyes were wide and wild. No begging or pleading but the focused gaze of a desperate Wolf who was going to use every trick in the book to get blood.

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