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 FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

[Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

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[Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Fri Jun 29, 2018 3:32 pm

Cemetery / Evening
His appearance is quite poor. His rich skintone is paler than usual. Darkness clings below his bloodshot eyes. His lips and hands are painfully dry. // This isn't short because I wasn't into it, it's short because it's been sooooo long. Important because I actually did have fun writing it. :D



I knelt over Odin's human grave. His body wasn't buried here, nor was his name properly etched. In fact, I didn't feel any closer to the traitor, and I could admit that there were times when I did. Times when I felt our souls were destined to be entwined. Times when I felt I was cursed to be just like him, simply because he left me standing in his shoes while he went off to wag tails with ancient wolves that never gave a fuck about the rest of us. It felt like cheating. And maybe I was saying that because I wasn't fortunate enough to stop breathing. I wasn't fortunate enough to die. But it did, it felt like dirty, bullshit cheating. We were abandoned just when shit got hard and it was fucking unfair.

I scowled at his grave, trying to kick dirt over it but there wasn't any around. So instead it was covered in little green blades of grass that had torn off. They caught the sunlight and shimmered like glitter as the wind picked them up and carried them towards the heavens. So I scowled even harder. Even in death he found ways to dig his blade in deeper and twist.

Even in death he knew how to turn shit into gold and dirt into confetti.

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Re: [Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri Jul 06, 2018 4:27 am

Walking the graveyard had become routine. The interior of the church becoming too much at times. I couldn’t sit through one of Father Tallon’s sermons without feeling like fresh air. An itch that needed scratching. It wasn’t bad, living here. Not that I could say I remembered fuck all to use as a comparison. Yeah. I couldn’t remember shit. My name. Actually, fuck you I remembered my name. Possibly because Helios had used it. Whatever.


Everything was simple here. I’d been given second-hand clothing from the charity bins. Country bumpkin bullshit. Which I had a feeling wasn’t my usual style. I ate. I slept. I talked with Helios about all kinds of stuff. I watched clouds crawl across the sky. Being empty probably scared other people but I found it…nice. The only thing that bothered me is when Helios gave me that look. It was a stare that asked a wordless question. Something we hadn’t addressed. Fucked if I knew what it was but I knew it was important.


I smelt him before I saw him. Which should be fucking weird to say. Yet wasn’t. The smell stopped me in my tracks. Closing my eyes I breathed in deeply. Fingernails cutting crescent moons into my palms. Tilting my head right back as if I needed to, to insert my nose into the slipstream of the scent. All kinds of things brought back lost memories. I wasn’t sure I wanted mine. That look Helios gave me was complicated. This was so simple. Without me even realizing the males smell had caused my feet to move in his direction. Weaving amongst the headstones with otherworldly spacial awareness.


So much to feel in that smell. It made me light headed. The closer I got the stronger it was and I was moving rapidly. Sweeping around in behind the grave he was hunched over, swinging a golden mass of curls. Peering at him with a cautious curiosity. This felt dangerous. The rush before the drop on a roller coaster. Looking into those piercing blues I knew this had been a bad idea. A bizarre appreciative animal purr rumbled in the back of my throat. Then I began to step backward.  


Run.
Run?

Run.

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Re: [Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon Jul 09, 2018 4:39 pm

The evening sun scattered its light through the trees, painting my torso in specs of orange and golden hues. The breeze rushed through those trees, and I squinted in pain from the searing brightness as it pulsed in and out over my eyes. The sun was still an unwelcome and almost foreign beast. I wished so desperately I could lasso it, reel it in, and screw in a filter, compelling the world to live in the dim green glow I’d grown so content with. It was there where I felt the most safe. And it was within that dim, green, glow where the world was most safe from me.

The truth was, I didn’t know what had lead me here. I had opened my eyes at seven-fifty-three. I remembered looking at the clock. I remembered hearing the morning rain, smelling it, seeing it warp the view through my windows as it streaked down in long interconnected veins. And then nothing. Nothing until here. And it was an undeniable fact that I didn’t care. My version of normal was a bad acid trip with occasional blackouts. A living nightmare that sucked away my conscious mind for a small vacation into the abyss every once in a while. Normal was a fantasy, Santa Claus by another name.

Gravity was so heavy, the air so dry, the sounds of the world around me so piercing, so sharp it made my ears ring. And although I was physically overwhelmed, my mind was a fucking steady hand. I stayed focused on the grave in front of me, waiting for my puppet strings to be pulled once more, leading me to my next surprise destination. My only freedom was in thought, and even those were suspiciously and consistently dark. Even still, I could choose to let myself be consumed by my thoughts, or… A new superpower, I could shut my brain off. It wasn’t exactly a power, but it was indeed powerful in my fight against the endless loop I often found my brain running around.

My absence from the den had gone surprisingly unnoticed. Wolves too absorbed in conspiracy and excitement over the newly reformed and renamed pack made for pleasantly distracted packmates. Combine that with extensive delegated tasks and you have a recipe for successful intended isolation. And of course the decisions made the day we reformed were likely met with some hostility, something I was certainly avoiding with great success.

My tongue was dry, craving to be bathed in whiskey. It was a thought that triggered my hands to run over the pocket of my jacket. I could hear the soft rattling of a familiar friend, and I reached into my pocket for the only cigarette I had left. It was the first breath of air I took after lighting my smoke that finally pulled my eyes away from the grave in front of me. While I didn’t look for her, I did look upwards, wondering what kind of ancestral reason there was for making me bound to her, a child, playing hide and seek among the dead.

That’s one hell of a way to say thank you. I spoke into the air as her scent faded into the breeze. Not that I was expecting gratitude or anything… My words had become thick as they were voiced through smoke.

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Re: [Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue Jul 10, 2018 10:15 pm

What was I thanking him for? My hands were splayed as if backtracking away from a sleeping fucking bear. Except the bear was awake and it felt wrong calling him one. Not to mention where I placed my hands wasn’t going to help me. I took one step backward but couldn’t tear my eyes away. My stare doing a dance between lit cigarette and blue eyes. I’d watched parishioners and the odd bum light up outside the church. For some reason, I instinctively breathed in every time. Which right now was bad because I was trying not to smell. Shut those nostrils the fuck down. That ashy demolition scent that somehow underneath was calming as all fuck, still managed to make it to me.


It felt like speaking to him was making a decision. One that I hadn’t considered and had been avoiding. My feet now having second thoughts about what to do. Backing far enough away that the smoke that now carried his scent didn’t completely possess me. Yet still close enough to hear his voice. What was his name? I knew him. Knew that smell well. Very well. What the fuck was I thanking him for? A white-hot lance of recollection pierced my skull. Turning my palm over in front of my face I zeroed in on my scar. Remembering his hand in mine. Remembering mine hadn’t looked the way it did now. Feeling what it meant.


I had wondered why the fuck I’d done what I’d done to myself. I knew that it had been me. Nope. Fuck this. Everything about this man and how I felt about him was confused and complicated. Instead of continuing to back away from him I strode forward with the intentions of walking right past him. Back to the church.


It’s the only thing that didn’t heal.


The full contemplation of what the scar meant melted through and I sucked in a gullet of air only to have that be smoke and…him. There were still loose ends strewn everywhere. How could we be family and not be related? We weren’t actually related. I knew that because it would be gross and illegal to harbor fantasies about him. Since that was a thing. I experienced a moment of what I could only describe as anxiety. Intense anxiety before stopping and placing a hand on the male's shoulder.


I’d almost hugged him. I felt my chest subconsciously shift forward to coax me. Something about that action felt bad. Even as I had stopped myself I knew it wouldn’t have been the first time. I’d hugged him before. Out of relief. Out of desperation. “Is that better?” Every time had been to take something for myself. My eyes finally got to read the epitaph. I knew this grave. I'd made a point of not reading the headstones at all. That shit was fucking morbid. Still, I knew this one. How did I?....Odin. This was Odin’s grave. Not that the name I had known him by was etched on the thing. What kind of fucking Wolf got buried like this? With a signpost that just pulled on the heartstrings of those alive to linger in their loss. To come back to a fucking place that had nothing to do with them to communicate. Guess that’s what fucking traitors do……..



My expression had been blank. A touch of surprise. A hint of confusion. All the while breathing in Onyx’s scent I had been staring at Odin’s grave. That gaze turned into a death glare. “Onyx….Vin..” I said his names allowed. Both filled me with a different sensation. Having everything reloaded in my head. The bare skeleton of what had happened and who I was. Who he was. All of it made it hard to speak. My eyes began to glow.

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Re: [Private FOR YOU PK!!!] Dirt into Confetti

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun Jul 15, 2018 8:18 am

I sometimes came to the realization that even before this, I rarely had control over my life. Control was something to be feared. I had no fucking idea what I’d do if I had the freedom to choose. Cursed if I do, cursed if I don’t. That was the life I was destined to lead. Even now, in the presence of a being that had brought me so much grief, I didn’t have control over a single thing. I was suddenly and devastatingly stripped of my freedom to think, and completely at the mercy of the other beast that ruled me. The one with eyes of ice and the heart to match.

Her scent was the same, but different. It was no longer the scent of a lone deceiver, a trespasser and betrayer. Her scent was that of a packmate, first and foremost. Her scent was that of family second. It was a pill I had to swallow without water. A big one at that. While I had yet to forgive her past, and knew a bloody handshake didn’t absolve her of her crimes, I couldn’t deny that something was different and there was nothing I could do but feel angry at it. Yet another dog I couldn’t seem to leash, literally and figuratively.

My eyes broke away from their defiant stare into nothing. I glanced in her direction but quickly returned them to the trees in the distance, staring stubbornly into the brightness of the setting sun. I was almost consumed by a feeling of gratitude when I sensed her nearing, granting my eyes a break from the blinding light. But that feeling was quickly replaced by confusion as I felt the warmth of her hand against my shoulder. My lip twitched upward. Remembering every time someone pitied me or tried to comfort me because I was “so fucking broken”, it always began with a touch like this. I’d gone from feeling a sense of family, to gratitude, to confusion, and finally disgust and irritation.

No. I replied simply, twitching my shoulder in an attempt to shake free from her. My discomfort was only intensified when she spoke not one, but both of my names. It was the tone, it sent a chill throughout me and I didn’t even know why. What? I glared, grabbing her wrist firmly to remove her hand from my shoulder, and finally making eye contact. It was there, in that moment when I was greeted by glowing golden eyes, and not the usual pink hues that had glared back at me more times than I could remember.

I released my grip and just stared, glaring. What the fucks your problem? I asked as my glare faded from one of aggressiveness and hostility, into one of confusion and discomfort once again. My eyes flashed white in return, but my attempt to assert dominance wasn’t filled with it’s usual punch, and came off desperate and weak. So I plopped my smoke between my lips and rolled my eyes, letting white clouds of smoke blur the space between us.

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