Lightness of Being

Sigmund, Brennan

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 07:08:19 GMT

→ Brennan just sat there, completely taken aback. Had he done something wrong? Was there some secret code to gay kissing that he wasn't aware of. But then, when Sigmund made his excuse and stood up, a sinking feeling began to build in the pit of Brennan's stomach as he wondered if he had just been used. "Wait!" He protested when he finally found his voice. "You said yourself you weren't drunk. You wanted to kiss me, so you did. Don't lie to me. I'm not some kid." He stood up and took a step toward Sigmund, actually kind of angry now. He'd put aside the fact that he had a girlfriend (mostly absent, but one nevertheless) and that he really had almost no experience with guys and that he hadn't really thought about doing anything with guys until he was faced with Sigmund alone in his apartment. And now he was being kicked to the curb, apparently.

→ "You are a kid." Sigmund said, looking pretty ashamed of himself. He was a responsible person, a painfully responsible person and doing something like that was entirely wreckless. "And you're drunk, so I shouldn't have done that." After a second though, he found his keys and looked down at them in his hand before returning his gaze to Brennan. He hadn't expected the other to react like this, and maybe some part of him was relieved that Brennan hadn't just let him walk out the door and gone to brush his teeth or something. "All right. You're right. I'm not drunk. I wanted to kiss you."

→ "I am not a kid," Brennan replied, feeling himself getting angrier. He hadn't expected to react this way either but then, he hadn't expected Sigmund to just walk out. He took a couple steps closer, wobbling a little this time. "I'm not even barely , Sigmund. I'm almost twenty fucking one years old, okay?" He didn't know where all this anger was coming from. Maybe it was due to the prospect of being abandoned twice in one evening, once after opening up a part of himself that he really didn't even know existed. But when Sigmund finally admitted it, Brennan nodded with a satisfied look on his face. "I might be drunk but I'm not wasted. It's not like I won't remember this tomorrow. You didn't take advantage of shit." The last part was supposed to come out more angry, but it didn't. It just sounded kind of defeated, as though he knew Sigmund was going to end up leaving anyhow, so what was the point.

→ The keys weighed heavily in his hand, begging him to use them and go. But Sigmund's feet weren't so sure and they stayed put. "I'm nearly twenty years older than you are. You're a kid to me. I'm not saying you're not mature; it's just--I don't know, isn't this weird?" He pointed between the two of them as if to indicate them as a unit. "And you wouldn't have kissed back if you weren't at least a little drunk."

→ "You don't know that," Brennan replied, feeling even worse. "You think I just let you do that because you wanted to? I already told you I'm not that drunk. If I didn't want you to do it, I would have told you to stop, alright?" He folded his arms over his chest, willing himself not to sway. "And about my age or whatever? If I thought it was weird, I wouldn't have let you kiss me and you obviously don't care because you did."

→ "I can care about the age difference and still want to kiss you--and do a lot more to you for that matter." The frustration rolling off of Brennan was getting to him, riling him up a little more than he already was. Sigmund wasn't mad, but he was getting agitated at Brennan's insistence about this matter. Couldn't he even have a good old fashioned guilt fest over this?

→ No, he couldn't. Brennan wasn't the sort to allow that. Sure, he could be passive and shy around people he didn't know but he'd hung out with Sigmund enough by now to where he wasn't going to bullshit around. Especially over the fact that he'd just kissed a man, which seemed more than a slightly important factor to Brennan. He took another step toward Sigmund, steadier on this feet this time. "Like what?" He asked in answer to Sigmund's question, trying to pretend like what the older man had said didn't just make him weak in the knees.

→ "Like what?" Sigmund parroted carefully. "Like what are some other things I want to do to you?" His voice thinned out at that, feeling his own hypotheticals slowly geling into what could become reality. Attentions drifting down Brennan's chest, he reached out and hooked his thumb under the hem of the other's shirt, lifting it up just a little. "You showed me that earlier and all I could think of doing was dragging my tongue over it." He meant that perfect sliver of skin just above his waistline.

→ "I did?" Brennan murmured, feeling a chill run up his spine when he felt Sigmund's finger brush against his bare skin to lift the shirt a bit. He didn't remember showing Sigmund that. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he looked up at the older man, deciding that his answer wasn't anything as frightening or as big of a step as sex. "Well...why didn't you?" He replied. He hadn't flirted with anyone in ages and as soon as the words came out of his mouth, his cheeks flushed pink.

→ Each step forward in this dance was taken slowly and Sigmund expected at each turn to be pushed away, or denied. But with each advance that was accepted by Brennan, his brain dared to hope that this wasn't crazy. "Because I didn't want to go home yet. And I didn't want you to stop being my friend." After a second of enjoying the blush, Sigmund looked back down. "Should I have?"

→ The whole experience was actually quite sobering to Brennan and as he thought of how to reply, everything just kind of clicked into place. "Is that why you wouldn't lay down with me on my bed?" He asked as it dawned on him, smiling a little bit and looking up at Sigmund. "And I'm not going to stop being your friend, alright? Even if we never kiss again after tonight or even if we do." He could already feel the positive impact the older man was having on his life and he knew better than to give that up.

→ Sigmund didn't blush, but he still felt his face get hot with Brennan's words. "Yeah, that's why." Because there was tempting himself, and then there was torturing himself, and lying next to Brennan on that bed would have pushed into torture, no matter how good it would have felt to pretend. "Should I stay, or should I go?" It felt right to leave that decision up to Brennan.

→ "I would say stay but then you would probably just accuse me of not wanting to be alone tonight or using you as a substitute for big breasts and soft hair," Brennan replied, a smirk flashing across his face as he stepped closer and held a hand out to Sigmund. "Stay if you want. We can watch a movie in my room or talk..." He definitely wasn't going to use the term cuddle. Of course more kissing was an option but he didn't want to bring it up and make Sigmund more uncomfortable.

→ In his room. Sigmund glanced at the living room, still thinking it a safer option. Then again, maybe that was the point and he hoped that it was. He hadn't actually made the decision to stay until he felt his hand in Brennan's, his own actions making the decision for him and he was relieved to just give into it. "All right. I think at this point I don't care if I'm a substitute or not."

→ "Just so you know...you're not," Brennan said quietly. "I mean, I know it seems that way since I was supposed to be with someone else tonight. But it's not like I kissed you back because of that," he added. He wrapped his fingers around Sigmund's hand and led him toward the bedroom. "You want me to put a movie on?" He asked, figuring it would at least give them some background noise so that things weren't so awkward.

→ Sigmund smiled at that, thinking Brennan was even sweeter than he'd given him credit for in the beginning. Sweet, and funny, but incredibly sharp too. He stopped himself, not wanting to moon over him completely. "Yeah, that'd be good." Because if worst came to worst, they could really just watch the movie.

→ "Okay," Brennan smiled, going over to grab a DVD off the shelf. He wasn't even really looking at what he chose but it ended up being Transporter. He put it on and then took a step toward the bed, looking at Sigmund hesitantly. "It's okay," he said, finally. "Come on. If the worst thing that getting in my bed will do is make you lick my hips, then you have my permission, okay?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood some.

→ There was a line with Sigmund. Something about sitting on the couch with Brennan so close had caused Sigmund to cross said line and once it was crossed it was difficult to go back. The wolf wasn't sure he could reign himself in again and he didn't want to get to the point where Brennan asked for him to stop. He wasn't sure if his pride could recover from a feeling so bitter as the denial of something he wanted. Sigmund had to laugh though. "Who said that was the worst thing?"

→ "Well I don't know," Brennan laughed, flopping down on the bed first and scooted over so that there was plenty of room for Sigmund. "I asked what else you could do and that was what you said, so..." he grinned, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad that's what you said though. I mean if you said something X rated, I probably would not have invited you into my bed," he patted the spot next to him, looking at Sigmund. Even if he was the gayest gay boy to ever gay, he wouldn't have put out on the first night Sigmund kissed him, so he hoped the older man wasn't going to be upset about that.

→ He couldn't help but grin, relaxing because nothing about Brennan was tense right now. "Well, how X rated are we talking here? Hip licking might be X rated to some people." He scaled the bed with some wariness because in all his years he'd never laid on a waterbed. The water shifted beneath him and caused waves; it made him laugh at the pure absurdity of such a bed. "Why a waterbed? Do ladies love waterbeds?"

→ "No," Brennan laughed, shaking his head. "Brennan loves waterbeds." He moved up and down as Sigmund got onto the bed and turned onto his side to look at him. "I mean, maybe they do, but that's not why I got it." He waited for Sigmund to get adjusted on the bed, kind of laughing at the look on his face. "You're not going to sail away, you know. Chill out. And hip licking is not X rated to me so that's all that matters," he added.

→ Sigmund's hands were looking for some form of steady-ground but of course found none. "All right, then I'm glad I went with the licking." He finally settled, the movement of the bed diminishing as well. Listening to the movie for a few minutes, Sigmund finally turned his head to face Brennan. "You distracted me from pizza. I hope you realize what a hefty feat that is."

→ "Oh whatever," Brennan replied. "You're the one who took my pizza from me. And then on top of that you kissed me. You're the distracter." He gave Sigmund's chest a poke and smiled to let him know that he was just teasing. "Not a fan of my waterbed?" He asked, just looking at him.

→ "It's an all right bed. I just need something to hold onto." To keep him steady--of course. Capturing Brennan's hand as it poked him, he tugged the other closer to him. "In case I fall off, you know." He kept his hand around Bren's, drawing it over to the other side of himself so the other was lying half on top of him, faces close together.

→ "Right, right," Brennan smiled. "In case you fall off." He was surprised by Sigmund's actions once again, quickly finding himself pressed up against the older man and it felt so much more amazing than he ever thought it could. Sigmund had a broad chest and strong arms, not something Brennan ever thought he was looking for in someone he'd invite into his bed, but apparently he was. "Well, hello," he said kind of nervously, trying not to blush again.

→ Sigmund could smell the blush on him, so it didn't matter if it ever rose to the surface or not. Hoping in the back of his mind that Brennan didn't think he was weird, he leaned up so that he could press his nose to the spot just below Brennan's ear. The roughness of his five-o-clock shadow chaffed against the soft skin of his neck, and Sigmund breathed in one long breath before pressing his mouth to the spot, letting the very tip of his tongue touch lightly. He liked that another wolf would smell him on Brennan for awhile, if he ever ran into one.

→ Brennan had no idea what Sigmund was doing but he didn't think he was weird. He shivered a little when he felt the older man's tongue touched his neck. "What are you doing?" He laughed nervously, kind of nuzzling against Sigmund. "I wasn't informed there was going to be any neck licking," he teased, letting his eyes fall closed. Sigmund's body was warm and comforting and despite the newness and unfamiliarity of the situation, Brennan felt perfectly at ease with Sigmund for the moment.

→ His voice came muffled from Brennan's neck, causing a tickling vibration to spread out over his skin. "Are you saying I need to get licking clearance?" He pulled back and looked up at Brennan with a sly smile. "All right. How about your hand? Can I lick your hand?" Saying it didn't exactly sound erotic, but as Sigmund pulled the other's hand toward his mouth, his tongue slid out from between his lips and he ran it up the sensitive underside of Brennan's palm from the base of his wrist to the tip of his middle finger.

→ Brennan was about to open his mouth to answer the other man when all of a sudden, Sigmund was already licking him again. Moaning softly under his breath, Brennan was surprised at the sound that tore from his throat. He was even more surprised that as Sigmund licked across his sensitive wrist and finger, he could feel it in his cock. His cock that was currently pressed up against Sigmund's thigh. His cock that decided to twitch on its own. He hoped Sigmund hadn't felt that and buried his face his the man's chest. "OhmyGod," he mumbled, clinging to Sigmund as if the man himself could save him from the overload of sexy.

→ He rather liked this. His alpha nature had a hunger for power and this was the best sort, the power to make someone as pretty as Brennan make that noise. The very tip of the middle finger from Brennan's captive hand slid just between Sigmunds lips before he let it go. "I think I'm going to take you up on that hip offer from earlier now." The way he said it was both commanding and requesting as he moved Brennan onto his back. His hand reached down to tug up the hem of shirt, maybe just a little bit higher than was necessary. "How about that?"

→ "How about that?" Brennan repeated with a smirk, just being a little shit because he could. He was trying to ignore the fact that he was rapidly becoming turned on by Sigmund's treatment of him, in the way that he took what he wanted. Brennan had always been the giver, in all senses of the word. He'd never just had to lay there and let someone have their way with him. He raised up on his elbows to watch what Sigmund would do, his sharp little hipbones poking out from above his tight pair of jeans.

→ Taking perhaps a bit too much liberty, Sigmund rested his hand high on Brennan's thigh, part of him touching his cock through the thick fabric of his jeans, but it was somewhat innocent. "I'll take that as a yes." He smirked before setting his lips down onto the curve of hip that rose from Brennan's skin. From one side to the other, Sigmund's tongue drew a damp little line just above the rise of Brennan's jeans, wanting desperately to sink just a fraction lower.

→ Brennan forgot to keep breathing when part of Sigmund's hand came to rest on his cock. His cock that was growing rapidly harder by the second. When the older man's tongue slid across his bare skin, Brennan flopped back on the bed, completely giving up on watching. He couldn't help the way his hips pushed up to meet Sigmund tongue. "More," he murmured before even realizing the word had slipped from his mouth. His fingers curled into the bedsheets and in that moment he knew that he was in way over his head here.

→ Warm breath whisping against the wet skin, Sigmund directed his eyes up the length of Brennan's torso. That one little word threatened to undo him completely. But never one to deny a request that was so damn enjoyable for him, Sigmund let his teeth into the act, licking some places, nipping at others. His hand too shifted gears, moving more pointedly on to Brennan's cock, feeling it become far more pronounced as he kneeded once against it.

→ Brennan whimpered at the teeth. He'd never been bitten or nipped at before and he was starting to realize just how much he liked it. "Sigmund," he moaned softly, starting to rub himself against the older man's hand. "You...feel so good." He already said things weren't going to be weird between them no matter what they did, so he just decided to go with it, for now. He wasn't quite sure he'd be able to take it all the way but this was nice. More than nice. Amazing.

→ Not having expected anything but beer and Halo, Sigmund was fully prepared to take what he could get and be very pleased with it. He wanted to memorize the taste of Brennan because he wasn't positive it would be offered up again. A fairly silent sort of lover, Sigmund simply smiled at Brennan's words and the way his voice sounded beneath his attentions. Hooking his fingers around the top of Brennan's jeans, he tugged down a little as if to make his intentions known as he unfastened the top button.

→ Despite Brennan's best efforts, things were quickly spiralling toward X-rated. He groaned and shivered as he heard the button unsnap and after that, he knew there wasn't any going back. "We can...I can...you can..." he started his sentence over a good three times out of nervousness. "I don't know anything about...anything so...we can do things? But...not...you know?" He hoped Sigmund knew. He wanted to figure things out slowly and not go rushing into things right off the bat but he lifted his hips to signal to Sigmund that he could drag his jeans down and off.

→ "It's okay." Sigmund said, voice soothing and perfectly calm, even if his whole body was flickering with arousal. He wasn't going to push. In fact, all he wanted to do was unzip Brennan's jeans just enough so that he could get his hand inside. Once he did, he touched his fingertips to that alluring ache of Brennan's cock and started to kiss his way up the boy's stomach until he got to his neck where he pressed his face again as he slid his hand around to give Brennan a few restrained strokes.

→ Gasping quietly when he felt Sigmund's hand sliding into his pants, Brennan forced himself to relax and part his legs a little to give the older man an easier time of it. When he felt Sigmund's fingers wrapping around him and starting to stroke, he moaned again, hips lifting up off the bed instantly. He loved the way Sigmund's face was buried in his neck and his hand came up to run through the other's hair. He really was at a loss for words right now and the more Sigmund turned him on, the more he wanted to get off.

→ Sigmund desperately wanted to be the reason that Brennan lost control. The thought earlier that Brennan should have been getting off with his girlfriend right now just made Sigmund feel jealous and possessive, satisfied that it was his hand and not her's. It was a foolish and selfish thought, but Sigmund got that way when it came to things he wanted so much. The sounds alone coming from Brennan were enough to make Sigmund open his mouth and bite at his neck, a little hard, but not painful.

→ Whining loudly when Sigmund bit at him, Brennan pushed himself harder against the other man's hand. "Oh my God," he gasped, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. "Sigmund," he whimpered, gripping hard at the other's shirt. He knew he was going to have some bruises tomorrow and honestly he didnt' really care. It's not like anyone would be around to see them anyway. His girlfriend was the farthest thought from his mind.

→ He just wanted Brennan to feel good, his attentions focused entirely on that one task. Relentlessly, he smoothed his hand up and down Brennan's cock, finally releasing it from his jeans so that his motions were free to level the best hand job he could offer. Twisting his hand down in a corkscrew motion, Sigmund's thumb pressed against the head as he moved his mouth from neck to lips, kissing Brennan again.

→ If all Sigmund wanted was for Brennan to feel good, he was easily accomplishing that goal. Sure, Brennan usually jerked off in the shower once a day or so but it felt so amazing to finally have someone else's hand on his cock. After a few more moments of it, he was kind of convinced that Sigmund was doing a better job of jerking him off than he ever did himself. When he found Sigmund's lips on his own again, he kissed him back enthusiastically, starting to find a nice rhythm of thrusting into the older man's hand.

→ If Brennan had just laid there, this would have been hot. But the fact that he was actually fucking Sigmund's hand made the man utterly weak and he felt his own cock harden with the thought of how they must look together. Brennan felt just like he'd imagined--and he'd imagined quite a bit. His tongue worked into Brennan's mouth, and his teeth, now an ever present force, nipped roughly at the boy's bottom lip.

→ Brennan's eyes were closed again and he was holding tight to Sigmund for support as the kiss went deeper. He knew it wasn't going to take much longer than this and after a few more strokes, he had to gasp out, "S-sigmund, I'm gonna..." he whimpered, fingers digging into the older man's back to try and keep from coming right away. It was no use though and within seconds, he was coming hard into Sigmund's hand after an embarassingly short run at the hand job. His whole body tightened and he gasped a couple times before collapsing back onto the bed, his head hitting the pillow again.

→ The feel of Brennan's body beneath him as he came stole the breath out of Sigmund's lungs. He tried to commit to memory the way his name sounded on Brennan's lips, especially in that needful, whimpering tone. Stroking him a few more times, slicking the come down over him, Sigmund sighed and finally released him. "You have got to have the most gorgeous 'oh' face I've ever seen."

→ What Sigmund said made Brennan blush hard and he brought up a hand to cover his face with. "Oh my God," he mumbled, laughing a little. "I can't believe that just happened. That was like...the best orgasm I've had in ages." He bit his lower lip as he tried to think of what he should do now. He knew he should offer to return the favor and as he thought about that, he was surprised to realize that he wanted to. Sliding a hand down between them, it moved down Sigmund's chest and body to his upper thigh, inching closer to its destination.

→ Sigmund couldn't help but puff up a little at that compliment. He liked to think he was fairly skilled, but best in ages? He really liked the sound of that. But when Brennan's hand started to travel downward, he hesitated a little. "It's okay if you don't want to." Not that he didn't want Brennan's hands all over him--anywhere they would go. But he didn't want it out of a sense of obligation. "I don't want to rush you." He understood that this was a first time thing for the other.

→ "No, I want to," Brennan told him, lifting his eyes to meet Sigmund's. "I do. I can handle it," he told him. "I've jerked off a cock before, you know," he grinned before adding, "but probably not as well as you do." He pushed his jeans down, kicking them off completely before glancing down at himself. "God, I'm a mess...might have to take a shower after this." His hand moved back to Sigmund's jeans, rubbing at him lightly over top of them to feel his erection.

→ Those words made him swallow hard and as soon as Brennan's hand met his jeans, Sigmund's eyes fluttered closed. "Why does the word 'cock' sound so good when you say it?" He laughed a little, but it was weak, strength stolen by the expectation of what was to come.

→ "Uh...I don't know," Brennan laughed. "Maybe because you want me to touch your cock? Cause you want me to stroke your cock and make you come real hard?" He asked. He was just being a little shit now, trying to make Sigmund as flustered as possible. He opened the button and dragged down the zipper of Sigmund's jeans.

→ "Careful or you won't even get a chance to get your hands on me." Because Sigmund felt like he was going to come just from listening to Brennan talk about it. The other's playfulness was highly desireable and made him that much more attractive. The slowness of this was torture, but only fair since he'd done the same thing to Brennan.

→ That made Brennan smile and he nudged Sigmund to roll over onto his back as he tugged his jeans down. Reaching into his underwear, he carefully pulled the man's cock out and started to stroke it, hesitantly at first. It was different, stroking a cock that wasn't your own, he realized. The angle was different, for one, and you couldn't exactly tell how it was feeling for the other person. Leaning up, he kissed Sigmund's jaw and then his lips, beginning to stroke him a little harder.

→ Sigmund exhaled, lying flat on his back, easily convinced to take the passive role for now, especially when Brennan's hand was aiming to do really amazing things for him. He forced himself not to relax too much and close his eyes though; Sigmund wanted to watch everything, memorize it.

→ Once Brennan had Sigmund's pants down, he slipped his hand into the front of the man's boxers to pull his cock out. His long fingers wrapped around him, giving him a few short strokes just to see what would happen. It was odd jerking off a cock from this angle and it took him a second to get a good grasp on Sigmund. Leaning forward, he pushed the older man's shirt up and leaned down to lick and bite at one of his hipbones the way he'd done to him earlier. Lifting his head, he grinned. "I see why you like doing that."

→ If he had felt half as good to Brennan, Sigmund would feel satisfied with that achievement. He could hardly form words, and he had to rock his hips back for fear of bucking his hips forward too soon and looking far too weak. Looking down the length of himself, he stared at Brennen with a rather disbelieving smile. He hadn't expected this--wanted it, but hadn't expected it.

→ "What? You look all..." Brennan trailed off, searching for the right word. "Giddy," he grinned, starting to stroke Sigmund a little harder, a little faster. "Does this feel good, Sigmund?" He asked, beaming up at the older man. He had always been the talkative playful sort in bed and apparently it wasn't any different with men than it was with women. "Are you gonna come for me? Because I realllly wanna see you do it," he practically purred, biting a little harder at the other hip to see what Sigmund would do.

→ "Giddy?" He laughed, but the force was stolen from it with each touch and he shifted his hips under the pressure of the building orgasm. Sigmund was usually a quiet lover, driven more by his wolfish instinct rather than his wit. Their contrast was sweet though, and Brennan's voice forced him to dwell in his human side, anchored to his arousal with striking awareness. The words made him groan. "Keep talking like that and I will--god."

→ "You like it when I talk to you while I'm jerking your cock?" Brennan grinned, now knowing how Sigmund felt about hearing the word 'cock' coming from his mouth. Continuing to stroke the other in a steady rhythm, he slid higher up Sigmund's body until he was half draped over him so that he could press a kiss to his lips, his tongue quickly invading the other man's mouth. The kiss was deep and passionate until he pulled back a little to bite at Sigmund's lower lip the way he'd done to him.

→ If Brennan could be counted upon to learn from Sigmund's actions, then the man was prepared to show him a wealth of tricks. Thinking that way made him both excited and worried. He was already thinking as if this little encounter would happen again, and again. "Fuck," Sigmund managed to say weakly. He very rarely said that word, and that simply gave it more power when it was actually pulled from him. Moaning into the kiss, he drew his hand up to the back of Brennan's neck to hold him in place as the kiss increased in intensity.

→ Brennan moaned into Sigmund's mouth, unable to stop himself. He was quickly finding that he enjoyed being with this male lover. The way that Sigmund held him in place made Brennan feel both safe and wanted. He knew he was doing a good job and that made him even more confident in what he was doing. He pulled away after a few seconds though to attach his lips to Sigmund's neck, sucking hard enough and using just enough teeth to ensure there would be a mark. His girlfriend never let him do that and had he been thinking, he wouldn't have done it to Sigmund who was an adult and probably had places to go and people to see tomorrow.

→ Sigmund liked the sensation of being marked. It made sense to his wolf, and although the alpha in him balked at it, he wanted to pretend that some part of Brennan wanted to own him, tell people that he'd been there. Fingertips curling inward, he held Brennan even more tightly. He couldn't open his moth much wider, wanting to devour Brennan whole as he felt himself twitch and finally cry out. "Oh god, Bren-" He couldn't even get his whole name out before speech was utterly lost and Sigmund degenerated into incoherency as he came into Brennan's hand.

→ Really, Brennan did want to own Sigmund in that moment. He wished it was Sigmund who was his girlfriend instead of her. Well, not his girlfriend exactly...but someone he could do this with on a regular basis. The word boyfriend was too foreign in his mind to even try using it. When he felt Sigmund come into his hand, he finally released the older man's skin from his teeth and leaned up to kiss him again, panting a little as he realized some of it got on his leg. At this point, they were both equally messy and he just kind of smiled. "Damn," was all he could think to say.

→ That summed it up pretty well, Sigmund thought. He laid there trying to remember how to breathe as he looked over at Brennan. "You left a bruise, did you do that on purpose?" He laughed a little and reached up to touch his neck where the mark would form.

→ "Yeah," Brennan admitted. "Sorry." He was still kind of draped over Sigmund, just looking at him, and really didn't sound very sorry at all. "We should go take a shower," he suggested. "I didn't mean to get us so messy."

→ Sigmund shook his head. "I like it, don't be sorry." He just wished it would last longer--the only problem with faster healing. Feeling spent, he wasn't sure he wanted to move just yet, liking the feel of Brennan against him. But a shower sounded pretty motivating. "It's generally messy, nothing wrong with messy."

→ That made Brennan smile a little and duck his head to keep Sigmund from seeing his blush. "I'm not used to messy," he said. Generally he just had sex with his girlfriend and there was always a condom involved. Even though he'd suggested a shower, he didn't get up yet. It was nice just laying here although he was kind of amused that they still had their shirts on after all that.

→ "You're not used to a lot of things," he noted, considering all of the things he'd like to show him. But he didn't want to put the cart before the horse, so he just sat in the moment, enjoying it. "You're really good at that though--" He paused, holding back a laugh. "You must practice all the time."

→ Brennan couldn't help but laugh at that and he just nodded his head. "Well, yeah..." he trailed off, looking at Sigmund. "What would you do if you lived alone and your...person wouldn't come visit you?" He refrained from saying girlfriend. He dragged his finger along Sigmund's side, just looking at him.

→ "I wouldn't be with that person," he couldn't prevent himself from saying, hoping he wasn't going to offend Brennan. Before the other could answer though, he started to get up. "We should get that shower."

→ Brennan just kind of laid there for a second, looking up at Sigmund. What he said made sense. In fact, Brennan wasn't entirely sure why he was still with her. "You make sense," was all he said. Getting up from the bed, he pulled his shirt off to lead Sigmund over to the bathroom.

→ That was a relief, Sigmund really hadn't wanted to kill the mood. His thoughts were interrupted with naked-Brennan and he stood back to just sort of stare. Nudity was a common thing for werewolves, but Sigmund rarely found himself so wholly attracted by it. He swallowed hard, glancing down the line of Brennan's back, unable to break out of the freeze.

→ Leaning into the tub, Brennan turned the shower on and straightened back up, turning around to look at Sigmund while the water got warm. "What?" He asked, smiling a little. It made him feel kind of weird inside that Sigmund couldn't keep his eyes off him. He'd never had that effect on anyone. At least to his knowledge. "Are you going to take your shirt off or what?" He teased, leaning over to pull at it.

→ "I kind of just want to watch you," he said, voice low and almost predatorial. A lover could be like prey, and he wanted to learn all about this one. But the tugging at his shirt got him to take it off and he stood there exuding confidence and focus.

→ "Watch me what?" Brennan asked. "Do a little dance?" He teased, turning back around to shake his butt at Sigmund before leaning in to test the water's temperature.

→ Sigmund had to roll his eyes a little. "Do anything. Shaking your ass works." When Brennan turned around Sigmund walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and kissing the back of his neck. He was careful to keep his hips back a little to prevent any misinterpretation of this move.

→ Brennan wasn't exactly alarmed, just surprised. He stayed still and let Sigmund kiss at his neck, smiling a little bit. "You're a really good kisser. Why didn't you say so in the first place?" He asked, finally pulling away to step into the shower, tugging Sigmund along with him.

→ "Why didn't I tell you I was a good kisser? What, didn't I give you my card? It's on there." The hot water hit his skin and he sighed with satisfaction, shutting his eyes and leaning back against the cold tile. "Your shower is my new favorite place in the whole worlds."

→ "It is not," Brennan laughed. "I actually read your card, Sigmund." He stepped under the spray and slid his arms around the older man's waist before leaning forward to rest his forehead against his shoulder. The stance was something more than would usually be found between two people who just had a casual hookup. "And if that's true, then you are more than welcome in my shower whenever you want."

→ All about body language, Brennan's posture made Sigmund's heart melt and the weight of Brennan's head impronted itself on Sigmund's memory. "You read my card? See, I knew you liked me. No one actually reads anybody's card these days." Sliding a wet hand through Brennan's hair he tugged it back a little so the water rushed over his scalp. While his head was back, he kissed the tempting, exposed neck.

→ Brennan lifted his head to look up at Sigmund, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Oh, yeah. You were just so sure that you waited this long to make your move," he teased. He wasn't sure why things were going this way. He hadn't stopped to think about the fact maybe, just maybe, he was craving some sort of older male figure in his life after years without his dad around. He definitely wouldn't have ever considered Sigmund a father figure because after what they just did, well...ew. But some lines were blurred somewhere and honestly, Brennan didn't care. It felt too amazing to be right here. He loved the feeling of Sigmund's hand in his hair and his lips on his neck.

→ Sigmund released Brennan's hair, sliding his hands down to smooth over his skin, taking water with it to rinse him clean. Reaching for the bar of soap, he slid it over his hands so that they were soapy as well and proceeded to rub down every bit of Brennan, fingers pressing firmly into his muscles.

→ Brennan moaned softly, unable to help it. Everything Sigmund was doing just felt so good. He held onto the older man's waist for support as he soaped him up. "This is the best shower of my life," he murmured, realizing that he definitely wasn't drunk anymore. "Hey!" He said, his eyes popping open. "I'm not drunk anymore." Leaning up to kiss Sigmund on the lips, he lingered there for a second before pulling back with a smile. "See?" It wasn't just because he was drunk that he'd hooked up.

→ Squinting at him as if to assess that claim, Sigmund wasn't sure he believed it. But he certainly wanted to, so he nodded. "Yes, well it'd be a bit difficult to back out now, wouldn't it, seeing as how you're all soapy." And slick and gorgeous and god he was utterly infatuated with him. Pressing their bodies together so that the soap on Brennan rubbed off on Sigmund, he liked the feel of their skin slipping against each other.

→ brb

→ okay sry

→

→ "Yeah, that's the only thing keeping me here. The soap," Brennan replied, rolling his eyes a little. He rubbed against Sigmund for a few moments, gasping in surprise when their cocks touched and he looked up at the older man as a hint of red spread over his cheeks. "Well..." he said, kind of at a loss for words at that point.

→ Smoothing the pad of his thumb over Brennan's pink cheek, he kissed over the flush. "You have no idea how much your blushing turns me on." There was something infinitely innocent about it, even though he knew Brennan wasn't an innocent. He moved his hips forward a little.

→ "Well I'm glad someone likes it," Brennan mumbled, trying not to get giggly. It had been ages since anyone paid him this sort of attention and now he was just eating it up. Gasping again as Sigmund moved his hips, Brennan worked up the nerve to move his as well, lightly pushing against the older man.

→ Feeling a weakness spread through his knees, Sigmund just leaned forward, pressing the weight of his body against Brennan, contrasting sharply the hard tile at Brennan's back with the soft warm body at his front. After a second though, he pulled back and let the water wash between them, rinsing the soap away.

→ Brennan let him pull away and reached for the shampoo, figuring he would wash his hair while he was in there. Running his hands through his hair, he waited until the shampoo washed away before glancing back over at Sigmund. "So," he said softly. "Are you going to head home?" He wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask the older man to stay the night.

→ "Are you politely kicking me out?" Sigmund teased, unsure of what to make of that question. Maybe it was one thing to fool around with him, but quite another to sleep with him. Sigmund would understand either way, but he wanted to make sure that was the case and he wasn't just jumping to worrisome conclusions.

→ "No," Brennan said, grabbing Sigmund by the hand. "I just thought you would want to..." he trailed off. "If you want to stay, you totally can." He hadn't spent the night with anyone in ages either and it was getting awfully lonely in that big waterbed.

→ The only question about staying as far as Sigmund was concerned was which wolf he hoped answered the phone when he called to tell them he wasn't going to be in tonight. "Yeah--I'd like to stay." The more he could bathe himself in Brennan's scent, the better. Somehow he still thought that come morning regret would set in for the younger man and Sigmund would be left with whatever memories he could collect now. Turning off the shower, he grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rack, tossing it at Brennan. "Got any more of those?"

→ "Uh...yeah?" Brennan wrapped it around his waist and went over to the closet across from the mirror to grab a fresh towel for Sigmund. "Here you go," he smiled. "I think I want to finish that slice of pizza you stole from me before," he grinned, heading back out into the bedroom to find himself something to sleep in.

→ Sigmund was going to have to sleep in his boxers, but he was fine with that, given that's frequently what he slept in at home. Folding up his clothes neatly and setting them on a chair, Sigmund took out his cell phone and called the house. When Pirate answered he was relieved. The conversation was quick, but he was sure he was going to get suspicious looks when he finally did get home.

→ By the time Sigmund finished his call, Brennan was waiting back in the bed. The movie was playing again and he had the box of cold pizza on his lap, already devouring one slice. "Want some?" He asked, holding the box toward Sigmund with a smile. "I put the movie back on," he said, patting the spot beside him.

→ Eating pizza in bed, something that appealed to him greatly, but something he wouldn't necessarily be caught dead doing back home. Having to grin at that notion, he crawled into Brennan's bed happily, taking a slice of pizza and munching it down with gusto. "Can I say again how glad I am you rescued me from Sandra?" He could not imagine eating pizza in bed with her, or even having a drink with her.

→ "Sure, say it again," Brennan grinned, scooting over to lean against Sigmund. "Think how jealous she's gonna be when I tell her about the amazing handjob you gave me," he teased, biting at Sigmund's jaw playfully before reaching for another slice of pizza.

→ "You know, I actually wouldn't mind if you did. Though I'd have to get my own coffee and I'd never be able to take another hour lunch again." But it might be worth it to see the look on her face when Brennan came flouncing in to tell her about said handjob. Scooting down in bed, Sigmund commandeered a pillow and settled in to half-watch the movie until he fell asleep.

→ Tossing the empty pizza box on the floor, Brennan had to laugh at that. "I'll think about it," he laughed. "Maybe the next time she has you cornered," he teased. "Cause you know it'll happen." He snuggled down next to Sigmund and yawned, trying to keep his attention on the movie even though his eyes kept closing on their own.

→ This was far too comfortable. Sliding his fingers through Brennan's still wet hair, Sigmund sighed with contentment. Long before the movie was over, he'd drifted into a restful sleep.

→ If the movie wasn't enough to lull Brennan to sleep, the comforting rhythm of Sigmund's deep and even breaths behind him definitely did the trick. He was completely out before the movie ever ended, the most comfortable he'd been in ages.

Sigmund, Brennan

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 07:07:02 GMT

→ Brennan was the last one out of his department that night around eleven fifteen. He hadn't meant to stay so late but he'd gotten caught up in reading an issue of one of the old papers he was working on. That was the problem with the job, really. He got sidetracked easily by reading everything. So far though, no one had come in to yell at him about it and he still managed to get a fair amount of work done, so he figured it was okay. On his way through the lobby though, he had to laugh as he saw that the night secretary had Sigmund cornered. He seemed to be on his way out as well and she seemed to be wheedling for a invitation for after work drinks. Spotting a chance to rescue Sigmund, Brennan walked up and put a rushed and frustrated look on his face. "Sorry that took so long, Sigmund. I feel really shitty that I asked you for a ride and then was late." He turned to look at the secretary with a smile. "Isn't he great? Giving me a ride all the way across town on his way home?" He tugged at Sigmund's sleeve and headed toward the door. "Night!" He called back to the woman, figuring Sigmund would take his cue and follow.

→ A lot was happening all at once--or at least it seemed like a lot. He was trying to politely dodge the woman's advances while still maintaining her willingness to cover for him with the boss, and save him the good donuts in the morning. Seeing Brennan instantly grabbed his attention, and made him just a little more tense. But when he realized what Bren was doing for him, his tension eased and he tried not to look too relieved. "See you Monday," he smiled at her. The woman was not pleased to say the least and she eyed Brennan like she was going to make his life miserable from now on if she could. Once they were out of earshot, Sigmund groaned. "I think you just made an enemy for life. She's been planning that ambush for weeks, I just know it. But thanks for taking the bullet."

→ "Oh...did I? Well, shit," Brennan sighed, shrugging his shoulders with a little smile. "You looked pretty distraught so I figured I could handle a little rescue mission. You know, as another thanks for the awesome job you got me," he added, giving Sigmund's hip a little bump as he headed across the parking lot toward where his car was. He actually had it tonight. "How've you been?" He asked, pulling his beanie on. It was the kind with the earflaps and little strings he could tie under his chin.

→ It was probably the cutest hat in existence and Sigmund was captivated by it for a second. They'd seen each other every now and again since the drinks. He'd even made a point sometimes to run into him by 'accident.' It wasn't stalking, it was just--proactive. Still, he wasn't going to push things. But when happenstance deigned to bring them together, it was much better than Sigmund's poorly orchaestrated attempts at chance meetings. "I've been all right. Staying far too late at work for my own good. I think Sandra thinks it's for her benefit."

→ "Well of course it is," Brennan replied. "Because you are so obviously into something divorcees with bad dye jobs." He covered his mouth with a mittened hand, unable to keep the giggle from coming out. "I'm sorry. That was totally assy of me." Stopping at his car, he put the key in the lock and opened the door. "Well, this is me," he said. "What are you up to tonight?"

→ Making sure the pack hadn't eaten each other was what he was up to tonight, but that was every night. And he wasn't going to tell Brennan that. "Um, probably some CNN, some rice krispies, and bed." Saying it out loud made him feel old and he pulled a bit of a face. "You?" Sigmund tried to shift the focus back on to the other.

→ "Are you sure you don't want to stop by the store on the way for some depends and denture paste?" Brennan couldn't help but tease Sigmund. He really didn't find him old and boring. The teasing just came naturally. "I don't know...my girlfriend was supposed to drive out this weekend but something came up I guess. So...I was thinking I'd down one of the six packs of beer in my fridge and play some Halo. I know, not very exciting but definitely more thrilling than CNN and rice krispies," he teased again, resting his arms on the top of the open car door as he looked up at Sigmund with a shit eating grin.

→ "Halo?" He had no idea what Brennan was talking about. "Somehow being informed and full beats out a hangover and god know what side effects from whatever Halo might be." He had to laugh at the denture joke, but only because a werewolf with dentures was probably the most amusing mental image he'd had all day.

→ "It's a video game, old-timer," Brennan grinned, reaching out to give Sigmund a little poke in the chest. "What do you say you come over and give it a try? Then if you drink some of my beer, maybe it will save me that hangover," he smiled brightly, pulling the most enticing face he could muster. It wasn't that he was desperate to hang out with someone really...at least he didn't like to think so. He was just disappointed that his girlfriend hadn't come up in two months and he spent so much time in class and at work, it left precious little time for friends.

→ Sigmund laughed. "You must be incredibly lonely to try and wile me away from my rice krispies." But he smiled and glanced furtively over his shoulder to make sure Sandy wasn't finishing up and leaving to catch them in the parking lot. "You're like my main source for liquor these days, how messed up is that? But yeah, that sounds good. I'll follow you over in my rig."

→ "Yeah, yeah," Brennan rolled his eyes, fighting the blush that wanted so badly to appear on his cheeks. Yes, he was incredibly lonely, but he wasn't about to admit that to Sigmund. "Rig? What are you now? Some kind of renegade construction worker?" He hopped into the car and shut the door before Sigmund could reply and made a little shooing motion toward where the older man's truck was, a few spaces down.

→ Sigmund opened his mouth to offer a quip in return, but was cut short. He mouthed the words 'not fair' at Brennan before taking off to his truck. When he got inside he did his best to spiff himself up for reasons slightly beyond even himself.

→ The mouthing of the words made Brennan laugh and he waited for Sigmund to get situated in his truck before taking off from the parking lot. It only took about twenty minutes to get back to his place and after he parked his car in the reserved covered parking space, he walked over to Sigmund's truck first so they could go up to the apartment together. "You drive faster than most oldies, I'll give you credit for that. You actually kept up with me," he grinned, tugging on the strings of his hat just for fun.

→ Sigmund couldn't stop himself from reaching forward and tugging at those strings too. "Sorry," he laughed immediately after doing so. "Those things are too tempting." Walking inside with him, he was eager to see Brennan's place. You could tell a lot about a person by their territory--er, apartment. "I didn't want to lose you; I'm usually much more sensible."

→ Brennan laughed when Sigmund tugged at his strings and turned around to lead him up to the third floor of the apartment building they were parked in front of. "This is how I get my exercise," he huffed, going up the stairs. Letting Sigmund into the apartment, he was glad he'd cleaned. Sure, it had been with the intention of getting laid when his girlfriend arrived but he was glad he'd cleaned just the same. He had two couches, mismatching of course. You couldn't afford matching furniture as a poor college student. There were a few pictures on the wall, mostly video game and music related, and he had two video game chairs in front of his tv, the focal point of the living room. "Welcome to mi casa. Sit," he smiled.

→ Sigmund didn't quite know where to carry out Brennan's command. "With such a diverse offering of seating, how could I possibly decide?" He remembered those days, even though they seemed farther back than he wanted to admit. The nod of his head was approving though, and he shrugged himself out of his jacket, definitely not winded in the slightest.

→ "Flip a coin," Brennan suggested, heading out to the kitchen to grab some beers. When he returned, he'd lost the puffy jacket and mittens but he was still wearing the beanie. He loved it and wore it constantly when it was even slightly cold outside. Holding out a beer to Sigmund, he flipped the light in the corner on so that they could see a little better. It was Bud Light with lime. Definitely a college student's pick.

→ Lime. He bit his bottom lip to curtail a smirky sort of smile that threatened to overtake his face. It wasn't a condescending feeling so much as an endeared one. Taking the offered beer, he sat down on one of the couches. "So--Halo. It sounds kind of like an angel cult. Tell me you're not in a cult; you're too nice a kid to be in a cult."

→ "Angel cult?" Brennan laughed, practically spitting beer all over the place as he fought to keep it in his mouth. "Come sit over here," he said, plopping down in one of the video game chairs. "It's the best place to play. Kay, this is a first person shooter so..." he set his beer down to set up the game. "And I'm not a kid, grandpa," he added out of the corner of his mouth.

→ "Are too." He said childishly about Brennan being a kid. It was a joke, but it was also one of his own well placed reminders to himself not to get too comfortable. Coming cautiously to the chair, he sat, finding the thing a bizarre invention and not quite understanding why the floor wasn't just as good. Sigmund was still holding onto his beer because it was familiar, and he knew how to hold a bottle--unlike the controller Brennan was starting to weild.

→ Sigmund would soon find out why the chair was better than the floor. The game powered on and the speakers in the chair came to life, music echoing behind their heads and vibrating their seats a little. "Tight, huh?" Brennan grinned, passing one of the controllers to Sigmund. "Okay, so..." he began, pointing at all the different buttons on it and explaining what they did so that Sigmund would have at least half a chance of getting a handle on the game.

→ The sound was more alarming than 'tight,' but Sigmund had spent many years working in the city and immersing himself in human culture and he was able to grow accustomed to the surround sound quickly. His eyes followed Brennan's instructions quickly, clever mind picking up what it could. "Right." He nodded firmly, determined to at least make a good showing.

→ Taking another drink of beer before the game started, Brennan gave Sigmund a few more instructions. "Okay so, you're on my team. You want to shoot the blue guys, alright? And if someone starts humping your head after they shoot you, don't take it personally. It happens to every....OKAY GO!" He said, immediately launching a rocket at the other team's base.

→ The arrows were supposed to point you in the direction you were going, but when he moved them the screen whirled around and he tried desperately to orient himself. It was easier to lean forward in hopes the guy would go, but that didn't work so well because he nearly rocked forward off the chair. Yelping when seemingly out of nowhere he was killed, Sigmund frowned at his controller as if it might be broken. Throwing himself back into the game, he started to improve a little.

→ Brennan kind of laughed a little at the look on Sigmund's face when he was killed. "Don't worry. You'll get better. It took me forever to get the hang of it in the beginning." He quickly took out two of the other team at once, running over for a celebratory teabagging before running off to hop on the nearest Warthog. "Shit, shit, Sigmund! Right there! LEFT GO LEFT."

→ Sigmund's body went left, unfortunately he wasn't hooked up to the game. "I'm not coordinated enough for--what in the hell were you doing to those people?" He squinted at the screen then gave Brennan a sideways glance. Still, he was trying to go left as instructed because clearly left was safety. When Sigmund found the trigger button, he shot wildly at nothing.

→ Brennan laughed again as Sigmund very nearly wound up in his lap. "You don't have to move your body to make your character move," he informed him with a smug grin. Just as Sigmund was about to be killed, Brennan ran over the blue guy with his Warthog. "Okay, jump on the back. We have to go get the flag," he told Sigmund, glancing over at him. "Get on!" He laughed. "And I was...doing a victory dance?"

→ "Victory dance, porn, same thing, right?" He actually managed to get on the vehicle through some miracle of technology and he settled into a gunner position, not expecting to do much good. Still, putting Sigmund in the driver's seat would have been a strategical error.

→ "Oh shut up!" Brennan laughed. "Everyone does it. It's like...tradition," he said, taking off toward the blue teams base. "Okay so like...shoot people," he told Sigmund, giving him a nudge. "Anyone who tries to get near us, shoot them," he told him, a little more frantically this time. "Come on, come on, we can so get the flag! It's right fucking there!"

→ Sigmund was worried Brennan was mad at him. The smell of his adrenaline was confusing because there really wasn't any sort of danger that should have triggered such a reaction. As he got the hang of the game, he was able to take out a few attackers. "What flag? What flag!?" He was starting to get worked up too.

→ Of course, Brennan wasn't mad at him. He was just getting hyped up because the taste of victory was so near. "Oh good. Fuck yes, Sigmund! KICK THEIR ASSES. Okay, stay there. STAY." He hopped off the Warthog and hurried toward the flag. Within seconds he was back on the vehicle. "Okay, same fucking thing. We gotta get back to the base. RIGHT THERE. BEHIND US. SWING THE GUN AROUND." Brennan got ridiculously hyped up and foulmouthed when it came to Halo.

→ Of all the things Sigmund had been expecting to find out about Brennan tonight, this was not one of them. From the sound of it, Brennan was a hardened war hero, but Sigmund could still see the way his beanie ears flapped with his frantic speech. Sigmund fell into the rhythm of the game, missing a couple of times, but ultimately taking them out. "Don't suppose we could pull over for a victory dance." He smirked.

→ "Oh my God, you're a fucking Halo prodigy," Brennan cursed, speeding back toward their base. "My friends can't even take out that many dudes at once," he informed Sigmund as he navigated around a hill. "And no...no victory dances yet...I'm so close, Sigmund. SO FUCKING CLOSE. SHIT." They were about to be attacked from the left and there was no way Brennan was going to give up the flag this close to the base. "KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS. BRING THE PAIN, SIGMUND." He sped up, heading to the right to get away from them.

→ Feeling a little like he needed a huge swig of beer, Sigmund didn't dare take his hands from the controller for fear of what Brennan might do. He also had to wonder what the neighbors thought of these late night missions. Hand-eye coordination quite good, Sigmund proceeded to kill said motherfuckers, feeling just a bit like a warrior and he had to admit the feeling was good.

→ Thankfully for Brennan's sake, it was a college kid sort of apartment complex and all of his neighbors were up, probably doing various other things that were worse than late night Halo missions. "OH FUCK ME YOU DID IT!" Brennan hollered, swinging the Warthog around in front of the base. He jumped off the vehicle before it had even come to a halt and made a run for the doors of their base. In a matter of seconds, the victory screen appeared and he jumped up, fist pumping in the air as he did a literal victory dance, his earflaps swinging violently. He gyrated his hips back and forth before realizing exactly who was sitting there watching. "Oh, um...good game, Sigmund," he squeaked, plopping back down in the chair to try and nonchalantly have a sip of beer.

→ With the controller still held loosely in his hands, Sigmund could do nothing but stare at the display. He'd have to ask Nixon if they put some sort of programmed drug into this game, because that's all that would explain this. After a few long seconds of still just staring after Brennan sat down, Sigmund finally broke into a smile. "Good lord--Halo is serious business. I'd hate to have seen you lose; you may have pummeled me."

→ lol brennan is a spaz Brennan laughed a little at that, taking another drink of his beer. "Naw, not you." Plenty of his friends had recieved beatings though after royally fucking up a mission, back when he actually had friends coming around to play games, back before he'd gotten too busy for them. "You did really good, man. You should come over more, play more, kick more ass."

→ Sigmund had always considered himself more of a pacifist, but he didn't suppose viritual killing sprees were going to hurt anything. When Brennan said he'd done well, Sigmund actually felt accomplished. "Clearly I need to do some more hunting expeditions or something with this new found talent. Or come over more, that would work too." Finishing off the beer he set the bottle down. "I think we actually have one of those at my place, maybe I'll practice." The other wolves would think he was crazy.

→ "You do? Oh sweet! If you get online from there we can totally play each other!" Brennan's eyes lit up and he finished off his beer as well, hopping up from the gaming seat. "You want another beer?" He asked, taking the empty bottles. "Or a grand tour?" Not that there was much to show off. It was a one bedroom apartment. Wouldn't be much of a tour at all, really.

→ Walking around was preferable to Sigmund though, and he stood, following Brennan a little ways. "Beer and a tour? Something tells me there isn't a no open container rule around the rest of the place." Brennan's genuine excitement was invigorating and Sigmund was left to wonder if he ever ran out of energy.

→ The answer was of course, no. Brennan never ran out of energy, mostly because there was no one around to wear him out in any fashion. "You can have as many open containers as you want," he laughed. "So that's the living room slash dining room. I eat on the couch." Opening the fridge, he grabbed two beers and opened them, handing one to Sigmund. "I don't really cook much in here though. I usually eat out. I mean, when I have money. I don't count sandwiches and ramen as cooking and those are what I normally have." He moved off down the hall, motioning for Sigmund to come too. "Here's the bathroom," he pointed. "In case you need it," he grinned. "Aaaand, my bedroom which is actually clean because I thought I was getting laid," he pushed the door open, noticing the alcohol had loosened his tongue again. The room WAS clean. More music and movie posters, a computer at a desk, and a full sized bed with a brown duvet and Spiderman pillowcases. "Oh shit," he sighed, when he saw the pillowcases. "I was going to change those but then she wasn't coming so I thought why bother and bla bla bla I'm boring. Okay." He put the beer down on the nightstand and finally took off his beanie before flopping down onto his bed, which rolled beneath him. A water bed.

→ Sigmund took in everything, almost embarassed when he realized he was hanging off of every word that came out of Brennan's mouth. When he mentioned getting laid, the man took a swig of beer to cover up any sort of reaction he may or may not have had to that image. "Is it that Spiderman kills the mood? I've never noticed that before." Not that he owned a lot of Spiderman bedding, or that the look of pillowcases ever mattered in the kind of sex Sigmund usually had. "Why was it that she couldn't come, again?" He watched Brennan's body move in small waves on the bed.

→ "I don't really know," Brennan admitted. "Something about a really big project that she had to work on all weekend with one of her professors." He flopped over onto his back and slid his hands beneath his head for support. "And I don't really know about the Spiderman pillowcase...she just always kind of sighs and stares at them and looks at me like I grew an extra head," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "Wanna try out the motion of the ocean?" He grinned, scooting over to make room for Sigmund. Everyone who came over always wanted to lay on his bed because really, who had waterbeds anymore?

→ Sigmund shook his head. "No, I'm good standing. Don't want to get seasick." He managed to be utterly casual, even though Brennan was making him a little nervous. "I'm not sure most women understand the importance of graphic novels in a guy's life. They're a perfectly viable decorating options." Sigmund liked comic book heroes; they made sense to him with their morals, and codes of honor.

→ "Well I'm glad someone thinks so," Brennan replied, reaching for his beer. He took a few swigs, downing almost all of it. Setting it back on the dresser, he rolled back onto his stomach, looking around the room. "Maybe you would prefer the beanbag," he pointed over to it, next to the bed. The bed rolled a little and tugged his shirt up when he pointed, exposing a small sliver of skin between his tshirt and the line of his briefs that were peeking out about his jeans.

→ Sometimes he had to wonder if Brennan did these things on purpose. If he was a more frivolous man, or given to fantasy, he would imagine that Brennan was trying to give him signals, speaking to him in code that said it was all right to make the first move. But logical Sigmund knew, sadly, that really wasn't the case. He could not, however, keep his eyes from that line of skin and his fingertips tightened ever so slightly around his beer bottle. "Or we could go back into the living room. Are you planning on having a nap?"

→ "No," Brennan laughed, hauling himself up from the bed. He grabbed the rest of his beer. "I just don't hang out in the living room much I guess." He was more accustomed to lounging around in his room. Heading over to one of the couches, he plopped down on one end, waiting to see where Sigmund would sit. "We could play a different game, or watch a movie," he suggested. "Or we could have another beer and just sit here," he added with a smile.

→ The living room was more of a safe area, and while Sigmund didn't exactly like mapping out Brennan's apartment like a war zone, the metaphor was not entirely lost on him. "Are you already done with that one? You really did intend on drinking the whole six-pack tonight, didn't you?" As he sat down on the couch, he relaxed back, holding his only half-empty bottle on his knee. His limbs were long and when he sunk down into the cushions, it accentuated his spidery build. "Sitting? What, you think that's my speed?"

→ "Uh-huh," Brennan nodded, answering yes to both the question about the beer and the question about Sigmund's speed. "Aaaaaand," he added, quickly finishing off the beer in his hand. "Yes, I am done with this one. Please sir, I want some more," he said in an accent straight out of Dickens. But instead of getting up, he just leaned over to rest his head against the back of the couch. "It's a Saturday. I don't have work or class tomorrow. So what not get drunk?" He reasoned, even though Sigmund wasn't asking for one.

→ Holding up his hands, he laughed. "No, you're absolutely right. It's a good time to get utterly smashed, especially since you're already home with a strange guy anyway, right?" A joke, though it rang a little oddly in between them, but Sigmund hoped he was just imagining that unsettled feeling. Shaking his head, he stood up. "I'll get us both another, okay?" He used that opportunity to finish his own, just about chugging it the whole way down.

→ "You're not strange," Brennan replied, handing his empty bottle to the older man with a smile. "You're Sigmund, the guy who wouldn't let me skip out on the career fair," he grinned, laughing to himself a little. That was how he described Sigmund to his girlfriend when he talked to her on the phone. Kicking his shoes off, he closed his eyes and waited for Sigmund to bring his third beer. When Sigmund opened the fridge, he would see that there was a second sixpack sitting there untouched as well. "Are you getting hungry or anything?" He called lazily. "We could order a pizza or something." He had a credit card for emergencies and would gladly put a drunken emergency pizza on it.

→ Food was beginning to sound like a good idea for both of them. A hungry werewolf and a drunk boy might not have been the most prudent combination in the world. Not that Sigmund ever lacked control. "Yeah," he replied back. "I'll buy. What do you want on it?" He returned with two beers and handed one to Brennan without sitting down so that he could go right to the phone.

→ "Anything," Brennan replied, beaming up at Sigmund when he brought him the beer. "Whatever you like," he told him, holding onto his third beer tightly. "You don't have to buy. I can buy. My card is in my wallet." He turned onto his side to show Sigmund the lump from his wallet buried in one of his back pockets. "Be sure to get deliveryyy," he slurred a little. "No drinking and driving, Sigggmund," he grinned.

→ He rolled his lips inward, forming a grimmace. But the expression wasn't a bad thing, more a marriage between amusement and reservation. That third might have been a mistake, but a mistake that pizza might remedy. "Don't be silly. I'll pay. I don't even eat Ramen anymore." Because no one ate Ramen if they didn't have to financially, or cooking skill wise. He went back for the phone in the kitchen and dialed up one of the fliers stuck to the fridge. Meat was his topping of choice, lots of different kinds of it. "Twenty minutes," he informed as he sat back down on the couch and angled his body toward Bren. "You're officially drunk, I think. Two beers? Really?"

→ "Shut up, I am not!" Brennan protested. "I'm just happy! It's Saturday night and I'm done with work and school for the week and I'm not alone like I thought I was going to be and you're actually really fun to hang out with and I don't even fucking care that she's not here because you're here and pizza is coming," he paused to take a deep breath and just ended up taking another swig of beer instead of continuing on his tirade. Brennan wasn't a huge guy and he really didn't drink all that often, so when he did, he was a little bit of a lightweight, even if he wouldn't admit it.

→ "You're drunk." Sigmund said again, but this time he was far more delighted about it because Brennan was hell bent on denying it. "Drunk, drunk, drunk." Even alphas could be terribly petty, and everyone liked winning. "I love how you say 'actually,' like it's a big surprise how people without breasts and pretty hair could be interesting on a Saturday night." It was clear that he was kidding, loosening up quite a bit himself, not because of the alcohol, but because of the way Brennan's energy had shifted and he could smell distinctly a mixture of booze and genuine, relaxed pleasure coming off of him.

→ "Well generally the people with breasts and big hair mean you're going to get laid," Brennan informed him, using his beer bottle to point at Sigmund for emphasis. "And that is what Saturday nights are generally all about. But this Saturday night is good too. Halo, beer, and pizza are a close runner up and I am totally not drunk. Look. I can touch my nose," he said, touching his own nose with the beer bottle. Then he hauled himself up from the couch, smiling down at Sigmund. "And I'm not wobbly yet...I'm not wobbly...am I?" He asked as he started to walk across the floor while trying to keep his eyes on Sigmund. Okay, he was a little wobbly but he really only got really wobbly after he'd had more than just a few beers. His friends usually left him by the toilet when he was drunk because they didn't trust him to get around on his own.

→ Sigmund leaned forward on the couch, having the feeling that being prepared to catch the kid was a good stance to take. "Generally, if you're straight that's what it means." Not that Sigmund was out crusading for gay rights or anything, but he always felt the need to mention the fact that it existed. He hid enough about himself from the world to be hiding that too. "Also, you're wobbly. And in denial, apparently."

→ "Okay, if you're straight," Brennan acknowledged, turning around to walk back toward Sigmund. He didn't have any gay friends and not that he would have asked this while sober, the question just kind of came out. "How do you know? If you are? Or aren't?" He'd never really thought about it before. Was it possibly to be gay without knowing it? Or bi without knowing it? That was a weird thought. At least while drunk. He wobbled back over toward the couch, and kind of tripped over the leg of the coffee table, landing right next to Sigmund on the couch.

→ When he looked over at the other, he was exceptionally close, and Sigmund's eyes dilated a little. "Um, it's different for everyone, I guess. If you're attracted to men, you might be a little gay, you know? Some people are curious, try it and hate it. It's just one of those things that--I don't know." Sigmund didn't know how to explain it and thought that there really should be a handbook for these things. "Does it bother you that I am?"

→ "No way," Brennan replied, shaking his head for emphasis. "I mean, if I did, I wouldn't have invited you over right?" He reasoned, patting Sigmund's knee. "I like you a lot. You're a really nice guy and a good friend...I mean, you know," he said, thinking that maybe Sigmund didn't consider him a friend exactly since he was so much younger. "I kissed a guy once," he confided randomly. It had been during an unfortunate landing of spin the bottle while drunk in high school but he wasn't going to admit to that bit.

→ "And?" Sigmund asked without thinking it might sound too interested in the outcome. The knee patting bordered on condescending, but Sigmund knew Brennan didn't mean it that way. Still, in the back of his mind he'd sort of thought that maybe he would confess a steamy attraction to him and they would tumble into that waterbed followed shortly be a happily ever after. Or something. No one could make Sigmund feel as stupid as Brennan did.

→ "And..." Brennan replied, definitely not meaning to be condescending. He just wanted to be close to Sigmund for some reason. He enjoyed the older man's presence and influence in his life which had definitely been looking up since they'd met. "It wasn't gross or anything," he said with a smile. "I mean, I didn't think it would be. It was just...different," he said, looking over at Sigmund and leaving his hand on the older man's knee for the moment. He tended to get touchy-feely while drunk.

→ "Different." Sigmund repeated, trying to determine the underlying meaning of the word. Absent mindedly, he licked his bottom lip and finally took a drink of his newly opened beer. Leaning his head back, he shut his eyes, wanting to separate himself from how close he was to Brennan and how good he smelled and looked. But Sigmund was a creature of many other senses and his nose didn't stop working, nor did his ears stop hearing the light breathing of the other paired with his heartbeat thudding faintly in the background.

→ "Well yeah I mean, it was different from kissing a girl. Not bad different," he said, not wanting Sigmund to think he was dissing gay kissing. Because he wasn't. "Have you ever kissed a girl?" He asked, looking over at Sigmund. He peered at the older man curiously, watching him there as he leaned his head back. His heartbeat sped up a little as he worried that he'd upset the other.

→ The quickening beat made Sigmund open his eyes and he smiled warmly, liking the sound of fast better than slow. "Yeah. It was all right. I didn't particularly like it." As Brennan's tongue loosened, so did Sigmund's. "It was wet. And not to say that women kiss wetter than men; it's just that I'm far more distracted when I'm kissing a man because it's rough and engaging and there's often nothing yielding about it."

→ "Oh," Brennan nodded his head, trying to think back to that time he'd kissed that guy and he supposed that what Sigmund was saying made sense. "So it's kind of more challenging?" He smiled, still just looking at Sigmund. His heartbeat was still racing as he pondered the subject of conversation. He'd never really thought about doing anything else with a guy, mainly because his girlfriend was always there. Well, she wasn't always physically there, but she was...there. She was his girlfriend. Brennan rubbed at his head before taking another drink of beer.

→ Sigmund laughed. "No, I think it just turns me on more, is all." He had to drag his eyes up from Brennan's mouth to even talk. Letting his head angle forward again, he breathed a sigh of relief as the pizza arrived. He jumped up from the couch, springing with so much grace he couldn't possibly have been affected by the alcohol. Grabbing his wallet, he exchanged cash for the pizza and brought it inside. He set it on the coffee table in front of Brennan and made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "Ta-da."

→ Brennan couldn't help the little shiver that ran through his body when Sigmund spoke those words 'turns me on more' and took a quick drink of his beer to try and settle his racing heartbeat. He wasn't sure why he was having this sort of reaction to having Sigmund so near, but he was glad for the moment alone when the older man hopped up to get the pizza. Smiling, he leaned forward to open it when it was set on the coffee table and pushed it toward Sigmund. "You bought it. You get the first slice," he said.

→ "You have some really bizarre college boy rituals, don't you. Should I do a story on you? Headline Local Tribe of College Students Renew Ancient Ways of Teabagging, Pizza Rules." He moved his hand across an invisible newspaper. Still, he dipped down to grab a slice and resumed his place on the couch, the exact place because he liked the way it made his breath shallow and his stomach twist warmly.

→ "Hey I didn't invite the teabagging or the pizza rules," Brennan laughed, grabbing a piece for himself before settling back against the couch. His knee was pressed against Sigmund's outer thigh now but as tipsy as he was, he wasn't exactly aware of the concept of personal space. "You know you have to stay here for awhile," he said. "It would be very very very very irresponsible of me to let you drive home," he said, waving his beer at Sigmund. In all honesty, he wasn't trying to hit on the older man, really. He just liked his company and didn't want to be alone and liked his company...and that was it. Sort of.

→ The torture of the press of Brennan's body was fortunately subverted temporarily by the pizza. Pepperoni had magical powers against the werewolf brain and Sigmund settled into devouring the slice with just a fraction too much gusto. "Actually," he began between bites. "It's drunk driving that's irresponsible. I, however, would be sober driving so it would be perfectly acceptable."

→ "You're not sober! You can't be! You've had just as much as me," Brennan mumbled into his pizza. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on and probably wouldn't remember these odd hormonal feelings tomorrow. Feelings stemming from a night that was supposed to end up him having sex coupled with the talk he and Sigmund had been having. He finished off the slice of pizza and then took up the beer again, guzzling down quite a bit in one go.

→ "I'm taller than you, and with--I don't think it exaggerating to say--quite a bit more muscle mass than you. It takes a lot more to get me drunk." Even if Brennan didn't remember, Sigmund certainly would. The way his body was reacting, brain boiling in chemicals that sent electric flags, scents into the air around Brennan were just about enough to make Sigmund crawl on top of him. The magic pepperoni only had so much power to distract. "You just don't want to be alone overnight, even if it's just some co-worker on your couch." Was that mean? He didn't know, some of his control lost in the shuffle of want and denial.

→ "Psh," was Brennan's only reply. He wasn't quite sure what the odd feeling in his chest was when Sigmund said that, so he snatched up a second piece of pizza to occupy himself for the moment. "I'm just fuckin' with you," he said around a mouthful of food. "It's not like I'm really going to make you stay here. I don't care." He gave Sigmund a little smile so that he wouldn't think he was mad and then returned his attention to the pizza.

→ The sensory input wasn't matching Brennan's words and the wolf in Sigmund shifted about, annoyed with stupid human confusions. Either the other wanted it, or didn't. His body was saying yes to some extent, but his behavior was saying no. Control, Sigmund always had a complete handle on it--except now. He could feel it loosening, slipping. Reaching his hand out, he took the slice of pizza away from Brennan, not liking that it was taking attention away from him.

→ "Hey, what the hell," Brennan complained, furrowing his brow at Sigmund. "You totally just stole that piece of pizza right out of my mouth, you know," he added, just looking at Sigmund as if he somehow might be able to figure out why the older man was behaving so strangely. "You should have claimed that piece ahead of time. There was no claiming done, so it is rightfully mine."

→ Sigmund felt himself get closer, even if his brain was telling his body to stop. "Too many pizza rules," he said, but his voice had dropped a little, going thin. His body kept moving, and everything felt as if it had slowed to a crawl. Eventually though, his mouth had replaced the pizza and he was kissing this kid, this energetic, beautiful, drunk college kid. Sigmund's brain yelled, but his body didn't care.

→ Brennan had never been more shocked in his life. He definitely forgot about the pizzat hat had been snatched from his hand though. For a moment he just stayed still, having a minor freak out but then once he took a moment to realize what Sigmund was doing felt nice, he sort of kissed back, momentarily, until his brain came up with the idea that this meant Sigmund wanted to have sex with him. Cue freak out .. Freak out . occurred when he realized that he was still kissing back, more aggressively by the moment too. He just decided to blame it on the alcohol and go with it. For now. If clothes started getting removed, he might have some sort of small heart attack.

→ Very much on the outside of Brennan's internal terror, Sigmund was also insanely distracted at the moment. All he could feel was the increasing vigor of the kiss and his hand came up to rest against Brennan's jaw, feeling the bend of it with his fingertips. When he went home later that night, he would angst over the fact that he'd taken advantage of Brennan and probably ruined their friendship. But the taste of Brennan's mouth and the way Sigmund's tongue slid so easily between parted lips was all enough to console him right then.

→ When he felt Sigmund's tongue slide into his mouth, Brennan gasped a little, a tiny 'oh' coming from his lips as he kissed the older man a little harder. The guy he'd kissed in highschool was nothing like Sigmund. Sigmund was bigger than Brennan, more muscley as he'd noted before, and had a little scruff on his face but not even to bother Brennan. In fact, he realized that he actually kind of liked it. At first, he didn't even notice that his hands had come up and were pressing against Sigmund's chest for support but when he did, he liked the way his body felt.

→ The push against him didn't feel like a request to get away, so Sigmund kept going, fingertips moving from jaw to the back of his neck. This was even better than he'd imagined, especially when he didn't let pesky logic get in the way, like the fact that Brennan had a girlfriend. But eventually, thought won out and he broke the kiss. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sat back, deciding to lie and blame the alcohol. "Oh god, I'm really sorry. I'm more drunk than I thought I was. I'm really, really sorry, Brennan." He stood up, going to look for his keys that he'd set down someplace so he could go.

Davis, Trevor

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 06:53:55 GMT

→ Davis was settling himself in quite naturally. It rubbed some of the wolves the wrong way, the way he didn't seem to have any qualms moving into the pack and taking up space, and food, and money without giving much back. Sigmund had stipulated he needed to get a GED and a job eventually, but Davis was in no rush. At the moment, he was poking around the vast back yard, exploring the territory and examining everything very closely. He'd been told there was another lion around and while he was anxious to meet him, Davis had never had experience with others of his kind, so he wasn't sure how it would go.

→ Trevor was a laid back sort of boy and he had proved that already with the amount of time he just spent lounging. The previous afternoon he'd gone to town to get applications for part time jobs just to have something to do even though he didn't need the money. He had plenty of that. Today though he was just laying in the hammock, swinging back and forth as the sun shone down on him. There was another lion close by, he could smell Davis, but he didn't move. He'd let the boy come to him.

→ Davis was the playful sort, the one with energy and a desire for constant fun. When he caught sight of what could only be a cat, he broke into a wide grin and approached him at a run. It didn't matter if the hammock might not support the extra weight of a rapidly propelling boy, Davis didn't think about physics. He took one great leap and landed on top of Trevor, spinning them around in the hammock, making them swing wildly.

→ The whole thing caught him off guard and they were tangled quickly in the hammock and then dumped onto the ground. He landed and then was crushed by Davis as he fell but Trevor couldn't help but laugh. Just the feel of the other boy was a comfort and he slid his arms around him without a second though. "Mmm, you smell like home." He murmured, pressing his face to Davis's shoulder.

→ "You smell like me." Davis volleyed back, not knowing what home smelled like, save for the anxiety he could smell on his dad when they got in a fight. "I'm Davis, you're Trevor. Sigmund told me about you and I was scared, but I don't know why now. You're not scary at all." So excited, he licked Trevor's cheek, tasting him as he would if he was in his lion form. Sometimes he still got his behaviors mixed up.

→ "I know im not scary." Trevor said with a laugh as he turned his head and licked him back. "You have no idea how relieved I am right now to have you here with me." Just because he really had missed the feeling of having another lion around. "Now it won't be quite so lonely." And it helped that Davis was attractive.

→ Davis never felt lonely, maybe because he'd grown accustomed to never having someone like him around. Still, he figured this would be a good thing and Trevor's presence was calming. "Sigmund says you can teach me about being a lion, but I know everything about it, so you don't have to worry." Davis thought he knew a great deal about the world just because he had to make it on his own for so long.

→ "Well then that will just give us more time to hang out and play then and less time about learning stuff." Because truthfully there wasn't all that much to being a lion. Hunt, eat, sleep. Repeat. He stayed sprawled out on the ground, content to be there as long as the sun was still shining on him and he ran his hand up Davis' back just to touch him. "What do you look like in your lion form?"

→ "I don't know. My paws are really light and they look pretty big." He screwed up his face, but his expression relaxed when Trevor's hand ran over him. "That feels good. You feel good." He rubbed his cheek down on Trevor's chest. "Sigmund says my mane is bushy, and light too. I guess I'm pale both ways."

→ "Your hair is light so I'm sure you're a very light lion. I'm darker, I've seen a picture. My mane isn't all the way in yet either, though it's getting there." He kept rubbing Davis' back because now it almost felt like it would be weird if he stopped. "You feel so much like home."

→ "I don't miss mine at all. What happened that made you come here?" He hadn't been told any details because Sigmund thought it was rude to tell people what they could find out for themselves. "Your mane isn't in yet?" He grinned and laughed a little. "I'd like to see that."

→ "My pride is having a war." He said, though hed idn't really elaborate at all because it was a sensitive subject and he didn't want to talk about it anymore than he had to.

→ "Oh. And you're too young to fight? I'll bet you're not. I'll bet you're fierce when yo want to be." He thought it was a compliment and had no idea it might be taken as an insult about Trevor not sticking around.

→ 'They said that I was too young, but I think it mostly had to do with the fact that my parents just didn't want me involved. I mean, I could have stayed but it might have caused problems. What about you? Where is your family?"

→ Davis wrinkled his nose and rolled off of Trevor. "Dad's a human." Spoken with a hint of disdain. "Doesn't get it. Mom's dead." He didn't know the details of her death, even though he asked his father all the time.

→ "How did you turn then?" Sitting up, Trevor brushed himself off a little bit and moved to get closer, not wanting Davis to get very much farther away from him. Mostly because now he knew that there was a lion here and that he wasn't alone.

→ "My mom was a lion," he said quietly, feeling strange talking about her. Focusing more on the game that felt like it was starting, Davis grinned and scooted away as Trevor scooted closer. He wanted the other to follow.

→ Trevor did, crawling closer to Davis. He moved a little quicker, wanting to slide over him. Fast enough to knock Davis down onto his back and he straddled the other boy's hips. "Where are you going?"

→ "Nowhere, I guess." He stuck his tongue out at Trevor, frustrated that he'd lost the made-up game so quickly. Folding his arms over his chest, he commenced with pouting, turning his head to the side so he didn't have to look at the other.

→ Leaning his head down, he took a deep breath as he pressed his face to Davis' throat. He inhaled deeply and then licked up along his pulse before sitting back. "I'm hungry, I'm going to go inside and get something to eat."

→ Davis sighed dramatically. "No, I'm comfortable now." And he wanted Trevor to keep licking him. "You can wait a little bit to eat, can't you?" It felt good to seem so well liked and Davis was afraid that once Trevor got to know him, he wouldn't think so highly of him.

→ "I suppose that I could eat." Though he wasn't sure if he wanted to stay where he was is Davis wouldn't even look at him. "Do you want to go for a run with me later? Not tonight maybe, but tomorrow."

→ Davis squirmed underneath Trevor, not in a way that said he wanted to get up, but in a way that was just his boisterousness showing through. "What kind of friends did you have back home?"His eyes were a dark brown, and they looked up at Trevor now, full on and wide. "And of course I'll run with you. Anytime you want. All the time. Whenever."

→ "All the time?" Trevor asked, glad to know that the boy would be willing to run with him. "Wolves run too fast and I just want to lounge and play." he didn't want to run or chase or do any of those things. Not unless he was in the mood. "I like to climb."

→ "I run fast," he boasted. Then he rethought that statement and ammended it. "I mean, I like to rest too. And play." Play most of all and that was evident in every movement he made because it trembled with the expectation of something fun.

→ "Well I run when I want to run but wolves seem to want to run and run and do nothing else. I want to climb and sleep and lay in the sun and stalk and roll in the grass." he leaned down and pressed his forehead against Davis' collarbone. "Will you come and sleep in my room tonight? I'm used to sleeping in a pile. The wolves here are too stubborn to sleep with me."

→ Davis was eager to say yes to that. Even though he'd never experienced it, his body responded positively to the suggestion. Sometimes, when he had the opportunity, he collected pillows and piled them up on top of him, burying himself amidst haphazard plushness. "I will. Then maybe you can sleep in my room. My bed is very comfortable. I don't think many of the wolves like me either. Pirate won't talk to me at all, even though I followed him around the house for a whole day."

→ "All right. And don't bother with Pirate, he's very grumpy all the time." he laughed softly. "The first week that I was here Pirate challenged me." Though he wasn't really sure if he was challenging him or the other way around.

→ "I'm not used to people not liking me right away." Davis had always been the party kid and he was used to people wanting to be around him. Even if those people meant nothing to him, he enjoyed the sensation of being liked. "Pirate challenged you? He didn't challenge me." Davis pouted.

→ "I suppose he perceives me as a greater threat than you." He said with a bit of a smirk. "Does that upset you? That I am more threatening?"

→ Davis had to think about that and he scrunched up his face, glancing to the side so he could focus on the question. "No, I just wanted the attention." At least he was honest. Davis was hardly the threatening type, but lying on top of someone that was considered threatening to someone like Pirate made his heart speed up a little.

→ "Well there are plenty of people here who will give you attention even if pirate does not." He said to him with a smile as he tucked his hands under his head and looked up at Davis. "If we get anymore lions we can start our own pride here."

→ "Does it take three?" He wondered out loud. Knowing nothing about prides, he figured there must be a sort of standard minimum for those sorts of things. "What happens when the war is over and you have to go back?"

→ "Then I take you with me because I am the king of our pride." It was in his blood to rule and he wouldn't allow anyone else to be in charge. Not if he was there.

→ Davis wrinkled his nose. "You're the king of me?" As if he thought that sounded funny, almost preposterous. Having never grown up with that mentality, he wasn't sure if he bought into it as much as perhaps someone else would.

→ "Yes, I am the king of you." Trevor said, as if it should have just been common knowledge for the boy to realize that he was the head honcho. "If we have a pride here anyway."

→ Sticking his tongue out, Davis shook his head. "No one is the boss of me." Even though he wouldn't mind Trevor bossing him around when he was in the mood for it.

→ Rolling, he put himself on top of Davis and just smirked down at Davis. "Im the king of all the lions in Africa, so why wouldn't I be the king of you too?"

→ He opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of a good reason. With Trevor on top of him like that, he really didn't mind the notion that the other boy might be able to tell him what to do. Still, his independent streak won out. "My mom was from India. She--she probably had her own king."

→ "Well our pride is old, all the way back from when the british colonized Africa and India, so really I bet we are from the same pride, your mom and I. So that makes you mine." As if that really made any sense at all.

→ Davis frowned, bucking his hips up to get Trevor off of him. "Don't be silly. I'm American anyway. And Americans don't have kings." Since the India thing hadn't worked. Davis sounded every bit the proud, spoiled brat.

→ "No but you are a lion and lions do." Trevor kept him pinned, not allowing Davis to uproot him. He was still in a fairly good mood and even Davis didnt' give up eventually he would just because he'd grow tired of the game.

→ He stopped wiggling and looked up at Davis with a sharp little exhale. "You are very persistent. And you are stronger than I am." He wasn't ashamed to admit that, but the fact did frustrated him just a touch.

→ "Yes, I am." Trevor was both of those things but his attention span wasn't a very large one and so it was really only a matter of which one of them was going to cave first.

→ Instead of caving necessarily, Davis merely started to change the subject. "You said you were hungry. I'm hungry too now. Let's go inside." He hoped Trevor agreed, especially since it meant he was getting his own way and they were going inside when Davis wanted to and not Trevor.

→ "I'm not hungry now." Which wasn't entirely true but now his mind was on something other than his stomach. "I will go inside later." Mostly because even if he didn't get Davis to bend to him, he wasn't going to bend to Davis.

→ Davis's face fell and his eyes went wide with injury. "Please?" Usually batting his eyelashes and biting his plush bottom lip got him anything he wanted. He smoothed his hand up Trevor's arm, touching it lightly with his fingertips.

→ "Tell me that I am your king and we'll go." Otherwise he was going to stay outside and maybe go wandering in the trees for a little while. But if Davis gave in then he would give a little and go inside with him for something to eat.

→ "No." He said before he could really think about it. His own refusal made him sad, but he wasn't going to take it back and he dropped his hand, sighing. "I'll just go eat by myself." He didn't want to eat by himself. Now that he'd met Trevor, he wanted to eat with him all the time, but he couldn't bring himself to just submit. He didn't want to dominate, but he didn't want to submit either.

→ Moving off of him, Trevor got up so that he could go back to the hammock. He wandered over and dropped down into it, tucking his hands beneath his head so that he could get comfortable again.

→ Davis frowned, but didn't say anything else, just getting up and going inside.

Pirate, Kohl

Sun, 09 Nov 2008 08:06:25 GMT

§ Pirate was exhausted from his shift. The night was already well under way by the time he could flop backwards onto his bed and kick off his shoes. Taking deep breaths to bring himself down from the rush of his job, he simply listened to the rain as it started to trickle against the window. He'd made it inside before the weather had started and he was glad for that.

§ Baby was currently sitting in Pirate's bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. It was chilly out and when he'd looked out the window to see the storm clouds coming, he decided that under a blanket in a safe spot was the best place to be. True, he expected to be kicked out when the older man arrived, but for now he was watching The Lion King, which he'd found in one of Pirate's desk drawers.

§ He'd nearly landed on the boy when he'd sunk into bed. "What are you doing here?" He said crossly when he realized what was going on. "And we can get you your own damn TV if you want one, you know." He clicked off the movie, just to be a little spiteful about his space being invaded.

§ "Waiting for you," Baby said meekly, not feeling very boisterous at all today. "You don't have to buy me anything, okay?" He added, just looking over at Pirate, frowning when he saw that his movie had been turned off. "It was just at the good part!" Okay, so maybe he had a little bit of spark left at the moment.

§ As if responding to Pirate's sour mood, the rain came down harder. Shutting his eyes and shaking his head, all Pi could do was keep the remote away from Kohl. "How are you feeling?" He finally asked, pushing their interaction back to the clinical caretaking relationship Pirate was trying so hard to maintain.

§ "Bored," Baby replied, reaching for the remote just as Pi swiped it out of reach again. "And hungry," he added, unable to control the shudder that ran through his body at the faint sound of thunder in the distance.

§ Keeping the remote at arms length, Pirate opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to look at Kohl. "You shouldn't let yourself get hungry. When I'm gone at work you really still need to eat. Hunger and wolves don't mix. It could turn a weakling like you into a rampaging crazy, you know."

§ "I don't like going down there by myself," Baby pouted, scooting closer to the annoyed Pirate. What with the impending storm, he preferred to stay put, nice and cozy in the other's bed. "The others scare me." He nuzzled at Pirate's nose to distract him just long enough to make a swipe for the remote.

§ He was not usually so easily distracted, but the level of dismay that ran through his body, causing it to tense was enough for Baby to overpower him and steal the remote back. "Scare you? How can they scare you? I'm the scariest one here." He pulled away from Kohl with frustration, but he moved with such imprudence that he scooted himself right off the bed and fell to the floor with an uncomfortable thud.

§ Baby burst out laughing at that and rolled over to the edge of the bed so that he could peer down at Pirate. "Oh my God," he giggled. "That was the funniest thing ever." He leaned down, ruffling his fingers through Pirate's hair. "And you are not the scariest one. You're not scary at all."

§ Pirate was so mad he could hardly talk and his lips pursed tightly into a grumpy line. He stayed down on the ground, stubbornly refusing to get back into bed at that moment. "There are lots of other funny things that were funnier than that." He protested after a few seconds.

§ "Like what?" Baby asked, still looking down at him. He wanted to know what sorts of things Pirate found to be funny. "It was the funniest thing I've seen all day at least," he amended.

§ Sitting up, Pirate curled his knees up and rested his arms on them. "All day? You've been hiding out in this room all day. You can't judge based on that." He tried to think of funny things. "Caddyshack is funnier than me falling on the floor."

§ "What's a Caddyshack?" Baby asked, sliding off the bed to sit on the rug beside Pirate. "Take me downstairs for some food then," he added, poking the other boy with a toe. "Or I'll have to nibble on you instead."

§ Pirate opened and then closed his mouth, feeling old. "Nevermind." Was all he could say to the first question. As soon as Kohl got down on the rug with him, Pirate was up on his feet. "You nibble on me and I'll build a damn door so I can lock you on your side of the room." They had a doorway, but no door between it, so really it was just one big room with a narrow opening separating them.

§ "NO!" Kohl said, hopping up to his feet. "Don't make me stay alone," he said nervously, glancing out the window as the rain fell even harder. "Let's go make a frozen pizza," he suggested.

§ The force surprised Pirate. "Are you afraid of storms?" He asked suddenly, the corner of his mouth starting to twitch upward into a smile. Folding his arms over his chest, he was beginning to look a little triumphant, liking that he may have found something that freaked Kohl out.

§ "NO," Kohl replied, shaking his head defiantly. "I'll just go make some fucking pizza myself. See if you get any." He stomped out of the room but once he was out of sight, he stood pressed up against the wall in the hallway, waiting for Pirate to come after him.

§ Predictably, Pirate rolled his eyes and followed Baby out. "I'll get some--" if I want some, was how that sentence was going to end, but he ran into Kohl halfway through. "You are afraid, aren't you. If you listen really hard, you can already hear the thunder. Humans couldn't hear it from this distance, but you can."

§ "No," Kohl said again as he started down the stairs. He didn't want to hear the thunder. Keeping one hand on the railing, he peeked back to make sure that Pirate was coming too. "I want to finish my movie after," he added petulantly, turning around to look up at Pirate when he reached the bottom. "Do we have any soda?"

§ "Soda is horrible for you." Spoken as he walked past him, not liking the sensation of following. He felt the tiredness in his bones, but didn't expect to get any sleep tonight if the kid was going to be kept up by the storm. The sound of thunder was getting closer. "You're going to have to get used to the idea that this is your home for awhile. What are you so anxious to get back to anyway?"

§ "Soda is good," Baby replied, poking Pirate in the side as he walked past. He hurried along after the older man to keep up. "Just Kelsy," said quietly, figuring that Pirate probably didn't hear his reply, or if he did, that he didn't care.

§ Pirate heard it and he cared quite a bit actually. "Kelsy, your friend. Well, it's too bad and all, but judging from the place Sigmund found you, that's pretty much all you've got to go back to, so maybe you should just give up the pipe dream and focus on your life here."

§ "No," Kohl said, shaking his head sadly. "I'm in love with Kelsy. I have to be with him. I will stay here until I get better and then I have to go back." There wasn't any changing his mind about it either. He walked past Pirate to the freezer and opened it, grabbing a pepperoni pizza.

§ "Of course you are." For some reason, Pi didn't believe him, chalking Kohl's feelings up to childish emotion. That sentiment was obvious in his voice and he stopped to lean forward against the center island of counter space. "You don't have to be with anyone, but you better make sure you've got control, or you're going to hurt him."

§ Baby didn't detect the fact that Pirate didn't believe him. Maybe he wasn't paying close enough attention. "I DO have to be with him," he countered, tearing open the box rather angrily at Pirate's next words. "I'm not going to hurt him. I wouldn't ever do that.

§ "Right, so you remember everything you did as a wolf then? In full control of that, are we? Hell, you're cured then, go home." Pirate jabbed a thumb toward the door. After a second, he got up to go get some orange juice from the fridge because he was aggitated and didn't want to sit still. "Does he love you back?"

§ Baby was about to open his mouth to snap at Pirate and probably call him some horrible name but the question caught him off guard. "What? He...I..." he trailed off, staring down at the frozen pizza in his hands. "He said he did." He knew if he explained the entire situation about Kelsy's pimp/boyfriend, Pirate probably wouldn't believe that Kelsy loved him.

§ "Well, that's nice for you." Spoken as if it wasn't that nice at all. A flash of lightening sparked behind the thin curtains in the kitchen, and Pirate abandoned the orange juice in favor of going to look out the window. The rain was coming down slanted, wind whipping through it as the tree tops bowed to its force.

§ Baby shreiked and hurried over to Pirate , pulling him away from the window. "Don't," he said, shaking his head a little. "Help me find a pan for the pizza," he added, still tugging at Pirate's arm.

§ Startled by the fervor, Pirate wrenched his arm back. "There's one in the drawer under the oven." But he didn't go back to the window now that Kohl had so clearly stated his opposition to it. "It's not going to hurt you, you know that—right?"

§ "What isn't?" Baby asked, confused. His mind was now on the subject of the pizza pan, which obviously wasn't going to hurt him. He looked kind of upset that Pirate brushed him off but he went to retrieve the pan anyway and then put the pizza in the oven before looking at the knobs and dials. He really knew nothing about preheating an oven.

§ "The lightening, the wind, the rain, whatever it is that freaks you out." He was hell bent on making Kohl admit it, though perhaps not directly. Seeing that the other needed some help, Pirate walked over and turned the oven on to a reasonable temperature.

§ "You don't know that," Kohl said, just looking at Pirate. He sighed a little and then walked over to the kitchen table to sit down and wait. He put his head down on his arms, hiding his face.

§ Pi shrugged. "Never killed anyone I know." And that fact alone was good enough for him to not be afraid that it would start doing so. After a second of thinking about it, he had to admit one thing. "Okay, so a tree fell on this guy. We had to go out to his house on a rescue. But that was the big ass tree, not the wind."

§ "Okay," Kohl said, just staying put. He had his reasons but not any he was going to divulge to Pirate at the moment. He visibly shook when the thunder clapped as he waited for his pizza and wished that Kelsy were there. He'd hold him at least and maybe kiss him some too. That would be nice.

§ When the boy actually started shaking, Pirate sighed and let his arm rest on the table, reaching to take Baby's hand. His fingertips were warm as they brushed up over the back of the other's hand and curled around to find his palm. It was a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but a fairly big one for Pirate.

§ Baby kept his face buried in his arms but his long slender fingers wrapped tightly around Pirate's. He didn't care who it was at this point. It was at least someone who cared about him maybe a little.

§ "Maybe he can visit you here." Pirate offered. "But--you'd have to stay calm while he was here. Getting excited can bring on a shift." Deep down, he wanted to help the other get through this time in his life, and sometimes friends from the previous life were assets. Pi wasn't absolutely sure that someone Kohl supposedly loved would be good to bring around so early in the transition, but having him homesick so severely wasn't good either.

§ "Really?" Kohl perked up at that, lifting his head finally. His eyes were red but there were no tears on his cheeks, showing he'd been successful in holding them back. "You think so?" He pondered that for a moment, still holding Pirates hand. "Do you think he'd believe me about all this?"

§ "It'd be safer if you didn't tell him." Safer for whom, Pirate didn't say. He glanced down at the way their hands looked entwined together. "You could just say that you're staying here. I don't know." They could come up with a believable story, he was sure.

§ "What? Why?" Baby replied, following Pirate's line of vision to their hands. "Then he'll just think I left him! He'll think I went away without saying and he'll be sad." He didn't want Kelsy to be sad. He wondered if the other boy missed him as much as he did. Sitting quietly, he stared at their hands and tried to think. "Oh, I know. I could tell him you're my...no..." he paused. "I could tell him you're my friend and Sigmund is our pimp," he grinned, completely pleased with himself. Kelsy would believe that and he would understand why Baby hadn't been coming around then.

§ The hand holding was short lived once the word 'pimp' came out of Baby's mouth. "What?" His whole body retracted from the other as if repelled by some unseen force. "No, no, no." Pirate started to shake his head and for a moment it threatened never to stop because no amount of head-shaking could convey how wrong that whole story was. "One, it's pretty disturbing that this Kelsy kid would accept that. Two, if Sigmund is our pimp then that means I'm some sort of prostitute and that's not going to be a story you tell anyone."

§ "You're the one who said I had to lie," Baby pointed out, looking hurt that Pirate had pulled away. Instead he sat back in his chair, away from the other man and wrapped his arms around himself. He stared down at his lap, trying to think of what to do. Maybe it would be for the best if he didn't see Kelsy ever again. And maybe it would be for the best if he stopped bothering Pirate who clearly had a problem with what he was. Forcing himself up from the table even though he could hear the thunder in the distance, Baby headed out of the kitchen toward the stairs to go back to his room.

§ Just sitting there for a few minutes, Pirate expected the other to come scuttling back to him. When no such thing happened, he frowned and hefted himself up to go look for him. When he found him all the way back in his room, Pirate sighed and leaned himself against the door frame that separated their spaces. "Baby, I'm sorry this happened to you, all right? But you can't go telling humans about us." After a moment of consideration, he had to ask because it was driving him nuts. "Why wouldn't I have been your pimp? Why Sigmund?"

§ "Because alphas sound like the pimp," Baby shrugged from his spot on the bed. At least from what he'd learned from Pirate. Sigmund owned the house. Sigmund took care of everyone. And everyone who lived there seemed to have a job or something they did for Sigmund kind of. He was surprised that Pirate had followed after him and just kind of looked at him with a 'are you finished' look on his face.

§ Great, one more thing to add to the list of things he couldn't do because he wasn't alpha. "It's probably better if you get away from that kid anyway. You don't have to go back to the life now that you're one of us." And he wouldn't go back, if Pirate had any say in the matter--which he liked to think he did.

§ Baby glared at Pirate then, a scowl appearing on his face. "You don't know shit about Kelsy. He's not a prostitute, anyway." He just knew that Baby was one. Sure, Kelsy had tried his hand at it for about a week but that was when Jonathan had claimed him. Kelsy was more of a kept boy. "And I liked my life fine," he added in defiance, just to be contrary. He certainly didn't like the part where his trick turned out to be a werewolf and changed him into one too.

§ "Dogs like chocolate, but it rots their stomachs." He shut his mouth, falling into useless metaphors when he got upset. He didn't know what to say to the boy. Still, he was better able to deal with the petulant attitude than the needy one. Throwing up his hands, he shook his head. "I don't want to know shit about Kelsy and I don't want to know shit about your old life. You're not going back to it."

§ "Then get the fuck out if you don't want to know shit!" Kohl replied, getting out of the bed. He launched himself across the room at Pirate, putting both hands on his chest to shove him back into his own space. The only problem with that was the fact that Pirate was quite a bit bigger and taller than Kohl and didn't budge so easily. "I know you don't fucking like me, okay? You can stop pretending now. Just leave me alone!"

§ The shove was an all out challenge and Pirate wasn't going to let that go without putting it down. Clenching his jaw, he grabbed Kohl's hands, snapping his fingers around his wrists and walking him backwards so that they both stood firmly in Kohl's half of the room. Pirate's presence there was more than just standing though, he was claiming and his dark eyes bore down onto Baby. "Don't do that again unless you really mean it." His voice had dropped, quiet but forceful.

§ Baby had thought he meant it when he said it, but the way Pirate was looking at him and gripping his wrists so intently made him feel small and shamed, much like a little kid who got in trouble for throwing a tantrum. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle things on his own for quite some time as much as he didn't want to admit it. This pissed him off, the realization that he was stuck with Pirate whether he wanted him or not and and a little growl came out of his throat in response but he didn't move and dropped his gaze to the floor so that he didn't have to see Pirate staring down at him.

§ Satisfied with that little show of submission, Pirate let him go. Silence passed between them for a few seconds until he finally filled it up with an answer to what Baby had said prior. "I do like you. I don't pretend." Most everything about Pirate was genuine, stripped down to what he really thought about a person. "I like you enough not to want you to have sex for money, or food, or whatever you used to do it for. Or whatever you did, for that matter."

§ "I like having sex," Baby muttered, wrapping his arms back around himself so that his wrists were tucked away from Pirate's grabby hands. Most of the time he did, unless his clients were too rough or drunk or took advantage of him. The best sex he'd ever had was with Kelsy though because he'd actually taken the time to make sure that Kohl had come too. "It's the only thing I'm good at," he added quietly, getting fidgety as lightning flashed outside the window.

§ It made him a little ill that Kohl's statement about being good at it made him curious. "Then have sex for fun, not a job." Pirate didn't like how the boy was pulling away from him now when before he'd been so eager to cling to him. Confused, he went to sit on Baby's bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "And I'm sure you're good at lots of other things. Why does Kelsy like you? Not just for sex, I'm guessing."

§ "I don't know why," Baby admitted, going over to close the curtains over the window. "He just does. He takes care of me," he added, walking over to sit down by Pirate. "I think he really does like it that I let him fuck me though," he said. "Because his...Jonathan...only tops." He guessed that Jonathan wasn't his boyfriend since he was taking care of Kelsy in exchange for sex but he wasn't quite sure what to call him. "Kelsy bought me my coat..." he trailed off, tears welling up in his eyes as he realized for the first time that it was gone. It must have been ruined or stolen the night he was bitten.

§ At the name, Pirate wondered for a second. But there were lots of Jonathans in the world, so he passed it off. The closed curtains couldn't hide the flash of lightening that erupted behind them and Pirate stood up. "Come on. The storm isn't going to let up, so come sleep in my bed." He figured that inviting was better than having a scared creature crawl in with him halfway through.

§ "In your bed?" Baby repeated, thinking now that Pirate knew he was good at sex, that he wanted some from him. He figured it was only fair though, so he nodded. "Alright," he relented, getting up from the bed, too. He followed Pirate over to his side of the room and started to undo his pajama pants.

§ Pirate was busy adjusting the pillows and turning down the bed. He went to root around in his closet, tugging out a pair of sweats so that he could change from his work clothes. When he turned around and saw Baby working at his pants, nearly having them off, he let his eyes dart away. "You're not sleeping naked." He was going to put his foot down there.

§ "Uh...okay," Baby said, pulling them back up and tying them. Maybe Pirate was the type who liked to take them off himself...or maybe he was shy about sex and liked to keep as many clothes on as possible. Baby didn't know. He just shrugged and got into the bed to wait for Pirate.

§ Even though he'd been completely naked after the shift and hadn't batted an eye at it, he went into Kohl's room to change into his sweatpants because--well, he didn't know why, but Baby was making him feel weird. When he was finished, he crawled into bed and laid on his back. With a great exhale of breath, he started the slow process of relaxing himself into sleep.

§ "So," Kohl said, rolling onto his side to look at Pirate. He wasn't sure if the older man wanted him to take the lead or not, so he just waited for a moment. It was always awkward the first time with someone new since he didn't know what they wanted or liked. He scooted a little closer, nuzzling at Pirate's arm for encouragement.

§ Thinking that meant Kohl wanted to get closer, Pirate accepted it and lifted his arm to wrap it around the other. Over the time he'd spent with Kohl, he had to admit he was getting more and more used to the physicality of the relationship. It was possible he even liked touching him.

§ This made Baby smile and he slid an arm around Pirate's waist, scooting up to rest his head on the older man's chest. He figured that Pirate would do what he wanted or tell him what to do, so he just stayed put for the moment. He couldn't help but breathe in his scent deeply. Pirate smelled good and comforting.

§ Completely ignorant of Baby's line of thinking, Pirate didn't do anything but lie there feeling content. Sigmund had once told him that that was his problem--he didn't feel content often enough. So Pirate was intent on wallowing in it when he found it. "I do like you," he muttered again, reiterating that fact even though Baby hadn't made mention of it again.

§ "Yeah?" Baby smiled. "I like you too," he replied. He couldn't deny that he found Pirate attractive. The older man was handsome and well built and from all the time Baby had been spending with him, the younger man was kind of taken with him...when Pirate wasn't pissing him right off, that is. "What do you want to do?" He asked, letting his voice take on a more seductive tone as he looked up at Pirate.

§ For a second, Pirate was drawn in by the tone and he felt his heart give a warm, expectant thud in his chest. But the dawn of realization wasn't too far off and he glanced down at Kohl. "What do you mean?" The only thing on the agenda that he knew about was sleeping, or maybe listening to the storm outside for a little bit before drifting off.

§ "I don't know," Baby said, suddenly confused. "Nothing, I guess." Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Pirate did just want to sleep. He tucked his head back down against Pirate's chest and closed his eyes, his heart thudding against his ribcage as the thunder clapped directly over their house. At least he wasn't out in the storm and for that, he was very grateful.

§ The sudden spike of anxiety was quickly quelled by Baby's response, and Pirate was comfortable enough to smooth his hand down the other's back. He liked the contour of Kohl's body, his sensitive fingertips outlining what he could while still staying somewhat platonic.

§ Baby laid there for awhile, confused and still expecting something to happen eventually. When it didn't, between claps of thunder he managed to drift off to sleep in Pirate's arms.

Nixon, Kennedy

Sun, 09 Nov 2008 08:00:12 GMT

§ Nixon was bundled up in warm clothes, scarf pulled up around his mouth so that his own breath could keep him warm as he waited for the bus outside of the library. With his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, he held a cup of hot chocolate between both of his hands, liking the way the heat penetrated his mittens. It was cold out, so he was relying on the bus to get him back to the hospital where he would wait out the rest of Pirate's shift so that the man could give him a lift back to the house. The little bus shelter kept some of the crispness off of him, but he was still shivering a little because the sun had long since gone down and the evening nip was starting to settle into the city.

§ After all of his wanderinga round, looking for money and trying to ask a few people for some, Kennedy had only managed to secure himself six bucks, two of which he put towards a cup of coffee and a refill. The weather was so cold and he was sure he was going to freeze but he didn't know what else to do. When he left home he had left behind a warmer climate and he wasn't used to the wind being so frigid. As he set out of the cafe after having been there all day, he hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. His shirt was only three quarter sleeves so it didnt cover all of his forearms and he was really pretty sure if he had to sleep outside again tonight he wasn't going to make it. When he got over to the bus stop he didn't even bother looking at Nixon. He just sat there, huddling up a little bit as much as he could beneath the overhang.

§ Being a socially conscious sort of boy, Nixon noticed the fact that this new arrival wasn't dressed for the weather. That was the first thing he noticed and he was so focused on that, the obvious hadn't hit him yet. "Are you okay?" He asked, thinking perhaps this kid was just like Davis who wore far too few clothes when it was cold out. As he turned to look at Kennedy, he had to blink a few times, feeling his stomach jump up into his throat. What he was seeing shocked him. A few years ago, Nixon had been researching his family tree and his father had been very close-lipped about it. That spurred Nixon stubbornly into action and he'd gone snooping in Sigmund's office finding his own birth certificate, and most disturbingly, another. He'd resisted asking about this, however, finding it too troublesome to even dignify with more research. It had terrified him, so he'd shoved the knowledge to the back of his mind and continued on with his life, thinking perhaps this unknown brother had died.

§ When he heard someone speaking to him he lifted his head just a little bit to glance over at him. After four days of having barely anything but black coffee in his system he was a little jittery and a little out of sorts, so it didn't dawn on him right away that Nixon just looked like him. Identical, really, but even then he might have just considered it uncanny. His mother had never mentioned his father and she'd certainly never mentioned a brother. "I'm okay." he said, nodding a little until his eyes finally focused and then hej ust sort of stared. What was even going on? It had been such a weird week he didn't know how to deal with this.

§ Tugging down the scarf that had been covering his mouth, it became even more clear that they looked perfectly alike. "Kennedy?" That had been the name on the birth certificate he'd found and his voice wavered a little to even speak it out loud. The night after he'd found it, he'd said the name in the dark a few times, but it made his body feel strange and that had been the last time he'd let himself say it. But now, with his mirror image in front of him, and the name hanging between them, Nixon felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his life.

§ When the boy tugged his scarf down and said his name it was just a little bit too much for him to handle. Kennedy hunched his shoulders up more and tucked his head down, thinking that maybe all the coffee in his system with nothing to eat had started to finally play games with his mind. "I don't know who you are." he started as he finally looked up at Nixon again. "But whatever you are doing, however you are doing this, it's not funny." His mother had told him about other creatures that could mimic appearance and things like that. And he thought maybe this was what Nixon was. "Do you work for them? How did you find me so fast?"

§ If Nixon thought he was afraid before, Kennedy's words made him even more anxious. A cold spike of fear wedged its way through his body, up his spine and right into his brain. "I'm Nixon. I--" He didn't know what to say. "I don't work for anyone, you don't have to be afraid of me. I swear." The bus came, stopping in front of them and Nixon heard the doors swing open, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Kennedy. "We should go someplace warm so we can talk. Are you hungry? We could go into the library if you aren't; they have conference rooms."

§ Honestly, at this point, he was too tired and too cold to put up much of a fight. If he ran he knew he wouldn't get far so he just stood, hands still shoved in his pockets and he looked over at Nixon with a bit of a nod. His shoulders were hunched up so high it was hard to tell if he was really nodding or not but he was standing and he wasn't walking away so that should have been sign enough that he was willing to go with him. "I don't care." he was starved but he wasn't going to tell this kid that.

§ Trying very hard to resist grabbing Kennedy and hugging him, Nixon got up and took a step backwards, starting to lead the way but wanting to make sure that his brother followed him. His brother--that felt so strange to have that notion rattling around in his mind. When Nixon had first found out, he didn't think that he'd care, or react this way if he ever met the kid. But now that he was in front of him, the sight tugged at him hard. Ending up in an Applebee's, Nixon urged Kennedy to sit down with him. "I'm hungry, so I hope you don't mind." He would have eaten at the hospital cafeteria as soon as he'd arrived.

§ Of course they eneded up somewhere with food. The smell of it so thick in the air that it made Kennedy's stomach ache and he sat sort of hunched over once they were seated. At least it was warm here. At the very least he could have a few glasses of water to trick himself into feeling full and he'd warm up enough to last in the cold a little while longer. "It's fine." But he didn't have the money to pay for anything so he didnt' even waste his time with picking up the menu. The boy's arms just stayed folded across his stomach, pressed against it as if that might stop some of the pain.

§ Nixon could feel the hunger coming off of the other and he frowned, moving the menu toward him. "You should get something. Get as much as you want--they're used to people stuffing themselves here." He smiled, though the expression looked uncomfortable on his face because Nixon was a serious sort of boy and he didn't have a lot of practice with smiling. That paired with the fact that he was so flabberghasted right now made for a very odd looking, plastic smile.

§ That did nothing to set Kennedy's mind at ease and he just shook his head. There was no explanation offered, he didn't really want to tell Nixon that he wasn't eating because he didn't have money but he was sure at this point that that much was obvious. He was wearing dirty clothes, he probably smelled awful and he was sure he looked a mess. "I'm fine, I'll just stick with water." He said, watching as the waitress came by and said she'd be back for their orders in a minute.

§ "You're not fine." He lowered his voice, quickly taking on the role of protector, though not knowing enough to do a good job of it yet. "If you get too hungry you'll shift and hurt yourself." If they were twins, then Kennedy was a werewolf too and since Nixon had had his first at , then he was sure Kennedy was well into his shifting experience. "Come on. I'm buying."

§ When he said the bit about shifting, Kennedy rolled his eyes over in Nixon's direction and tipped his head to the side slightly. "What's your name?" he asked, if the kid had said it before he hadn't caught it because he'd been too busy wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. But right now he was too hungry and too tired to protest and if the kid was going to offer to feed him... well... he was going to just have to take the offer.

§ "Nixon. Nixon Veda. Is that your last name?" It had been on the birth certificate, but he didn't know what had happened between the hospital and wherever Kennedy had grown up. Then a thought struck him and he paled a little. Maybe Kennedy knew their mother. That thought made his stomach clench. When the waitress came back, he ordered a big appetizer and a hamburger.

§ Kennedy simply ordered the same thing as Nixon because he didn't want to bother with the menu. Even inside he was still a little cold so he kept his arms wrapped around himself in favor of conserving whatever heat he could manage. "Kennedy Veda." Despite the falling out with his father, his mother had never opted to change his last name. And Kennedy had never pressed to know more about his other father, he'd just left it alone and let her tell him when she was ready. Obviously now, he'd never hear it from her.

§ That made Nixon feel good, a relief washing over him. The same last name. How much more proof could he need? "I can't believe I found you." Which was a silly thing to say, given that the other had just fallen into his lap, and Nixon hadn't even been looking. He was breathless, taking too big gasps of air as if he'd been running for miles. "I can't believe this. Why are you here? Were you looking for me?"

§ "No." Kennedy couldn't sugar coat it. Couldn't make the kid feel any better about why he was there. "I was running. I just ended up here because I overshot New York and couldn't make it back in that direction. I don't have the money for a bus ticket." The longer he sat there with him the less convinced he was that Nixon was out to get him and now he just didn't understand why after all of this time he had to meet his brother this way. If that was what Nixon really was.

§ "Oh." He didn't seemed too bothered by that, though there was a little drop in his chest. It was more worry than disappointment though. "Why were you running?" Part of him was afraid to ask, but Nixon would never turn away from knowledge. He had to know things, wanted to know everything, especially now that Kennedy was sitting right in front of him, a fountain of information. "Are you in trouble? You're safe now." He was very certain of that, utterly confident in the protection of the pack.

§ "They killed everyone." Kennedy said softly, the realization that his entire pack was decimated finally settling in. He'd been running and he'd been surviving and itj ust hadn't dawned on him that there was nothing to go back to once the running was over. Everyone was gone. Even his mother. He sank back in the chair a little and his head tipped back, his eyes going up to the ceiling as if there was something very interesting up there but really he was trying not to cry.

§ Nixon's eyelids fluttered rapidly, bringing lightly colored eyelashes down across his cheeks as he stared through them in disbelief. He was horrified. Who was everyone? Who was they? Even if these questions erupted into his head, he didn't have the voice to ask them. When the waitress brought their appetizers, she looked at them, but the look Nixon gave her made her go away without asking if everything was all right. Even though the food smelled good, he couldn't bring himself to move one inch.

§ Neither could Kennedy. In fact his stomach only ached more and he sank further into his seat, his head finally coming forward so that he was looking at Nixon. His eyes were shiny with tears but he was too proud to cry in front of a stranger. Even if said stranger was his brother.

§ "Who's dead?" He finally mustered the courage to ask even though his voice was reedy and barely able to make it across the table. The smell of the food entered his nostrils and his stomach reminded him how peckish he couldn't imagine putting food in his mouth just then.

§ "My pack. Everyone in my pack." He said softly, shaking his head as he looked over at Nixon. "Everyone I know is gone. I don't know what they were doing, what they came for." Kennedy pushed his food back away from him because he felt mostly just sick to his stomach now.

§ That was the answer he'd been afraid of. Sitting in silence for another few minutes, Nixon finally sucked in a breath. "Did you live with your mom?" Kennedy's mom, not Nixon's. Nixon didn't have a mom and even though they shared genetics, that woman belonged to Kennedy.

§ "Yes." And now she was gone. Or at least he was pretty sure she was gone. The woman was dying when he'd run. He'd gone to her, turned her over and tried to hold her hand but she'd told him to run and he'd run. Now he wished he had stayed. At least then she wouldn't have died alone.

§ Nixon didn't have near the emotional control that Kennedy clearly had. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks. "Oh." Embarrassed, he looked down into his lap, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to turn off the water works. Kennedy had been through more than he had, so it was stupid to cry, but he was never going to meet her now. Never. "What's in New York?"

§ "I don't know." Kennedy shook his head. "There just wasn't anywhere else to go." So that was why he'd decided to go to New York. When he saw the tears in Nixon's eyes and when he watched them roll down his cheeks his stomach lurched and he got up from the table. he was going to be sick.

§ "Where are you going?" He sounded panicked. Now that he knew Kennedy really existed and he'd seen him, he wasn't about to let the other wolf out of his sight. The waitress brought their food and no look from Nixon could stop her from asking if there was some sort of problem. Nixon frowned at her. "Could you just box up our food please? We need to go, something's come up." He wiped fiercely at his cheeks to get rid of the tears.

§ When he got to the bathroom Kennedy could hardly even think of how unsanitary it was in there. Instead he just leaned over the sink and was sick. There was no food in his system so his vomit was mostly just coffee and bile. It burned the whole way up and by the time he was finished heaving he was crying.

§ Nixon followed Kennedy into the bathroom, determined not to let him run away. In the long run, it would be better if Kennedy came to live with him and their father, even if he didn't want to at first. He couldn't bear the idea of losing him, even if they'd only known each other for no more than twenty minutes. Putting his hand on his back, he rubbed between his shoulders the way his dad had done for him when he was little and had the flu.

§ Staying hunched over, he tried to hold still while Nixon rubbed his back. The hand was a comfort, even if it came from a stranger, and he just panted and sobbed. By the time he was done he was an awful mess. His face was splotchy and red, his nose was running and he couldn't get it to stop and his eyes had gone red from the tears. "I can't ever go home."

§ This broke Nixon's heart. Getting some paper towels from the dispenser, he wetted them with cool water in the sink and patted them gently on Kennedy's face. "I'm sorry." He was starting to get angry at his father, and maybe at his mother too. He didn't understand why they had separated, and if Kennedy and his mother had stayed with the Providence pack, she'd be alive right now and Kennedy wouldn't be crying.

§ "I don't have anywhere to go." Kennedy let him wipe his face off and then he just moved to crouch down in front of the sink. Standing was too much effort right now so he just settled with a crouch. His hands stayed on the edge of the sink, holding him up and keeping him from falling right onto his butt.

§ "Come home with me." He'd been too afraid to mention it before because he didn't want Kennedy to say no. "Come on, I'm supposed to meet one of the pack so he can give me a ride home. Dad's there." He added, not knowing if that would convince Kennedy to come or drive him away.

§ "I can't go with you." At least he didn't think that that was a very good idea. Not if they were really brothers. It would probably disrupt everything and make it all much harder on their father, if that was who Nixon lived with. Leaning his forehead against the edge of the sink, he took a few breaths, just trying to stay calm. "I really don't feel well."

§ Frowning, Nixon kept his hand on Kennedy's back, fingers pressing lightly through the thin fabric of his clothes. Even though they'd been in the warmth of the restaurant for awhile, Kennedy's skin was still chilled. "It's not good for you to get so upset. Come on. I'm going to call Pirate and he's going to come and pick us up."

§ "Pirate? You're going to call a pirate?" Standing slowly, he had to use the edge of the sink to pull himself to his feet and then he glanced over at Nixon. "Do you live with your dad?" They're dad, since technically they shared a father. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet the man.

§ Nixon stared at Kennedy, wondering if that's what his mom looked like--then he realized how stupid that was and glanced in the mirror at them standing next to each other. Shaking his head, he got out his cell phone, dialing Pirate's number and talking to him briefly. He didn't mention anything about Kennedy, but said he needed to be picked up. When he hung up, he turned his attention back to Kennedy. "I live with my dad, yeah. I mean, we all live together with the pack."

§ "My mother never told me about you or about him." Kennedy didn't know anything about the other half of his family and he sort of wished she had prepared him for this. His arms went back around himself as they started out of the bathroom and he just tried to keep al the warmth in he could manage before they went outside again.

§ He was relieved that Kennedy wasn't protesting anymore forcefully about going home with him. When they got back to their table, the waitress had left the check and boxed up their food. Nixon still wasn't hungry, but he figured Pirate would be appreciative of a snack. He paid the check, leaving cash on the table and taking the bags, helping Kennedy out into the foyer where they could wait in the warmth. "No one told me about you guys either. I found your birth certificate."

§ That made him frown. Why had their parents wanted to keep them separated so badly? He was starting to shake as they stood there, his eyes on the floor. Talking to him seemed almost painful at this point. To know that if it hadn't been complete fucking luck he wouldn't have ever even know about Nixon.

§ "It's going to be okay." He said, feigning confidence. "When did you shift last? We've got to get you out of here." Nixon thought for sure Kennedy had experienced his first shift before, and when the other hadn't said anything about not, Nixon assumed he was right. He looked out the window anxiously, knowing Pirate would be able to tell better if Kennedy was going to become a danger.

§ "I haven't." Kennedy said, having not thought about it before when Nixon had asked him if he was shifting or had mentioned it. He couldn't even remember. "I feel really sick to my stomach." There was nothing left to throw up but that didn't stop the intense pain.

§ Pulling up a few minutes later, Pirate honked the horn and the sound of it was annoyed. Why the hell did he need to pick Nixon up when the kid was perfectly capable of riding the bus. When the boy came out, helping Kennedy out to the car, Pirate frowned and got out. "What the fuck?"

§ Sliding into the back of the car, Kennedy just sank back and slouched down. He was dizzy and his body was starting to show him just how badly he needed food. Kennedy only glanced at Pirate but he didn't make eye contact or keep hi head up long enough to give Pirate a really great look at him.

§ Nixon got in the back with Kennedy and Pirate sighed, realizing his question wasn't going to get answered. As he sat in the driver's seat, he listened to the pulse of energy that was coming off of Kennedy. "Was he attacked?" There was desperation to the boy, and newness. Definitely a wolf, but not quite yet. Nixon shook his head. "No. No, he's just hungry and scared and his pack was killed. He was heading to New York, but--but he's going to stay with us now."

§ Although he wasn't sure if kennedy would care or not, he leaned against him and just closed his eyes. Nixon was warm and there was a slightly familiar smell to him. Almost like he could smell his mother went he leaned into him. Kennedy was well aware of the fact that he probably didn't smell good and that Nixon probably wouldnt' appreciate it but his brother was so warm.

§ Even though there were bad elements to Kennedy's scent at the moment, the core of his smell was good, and safe. "Oh great, another one? How many new wolves are we going to be taking in? What are we, the fucking orphanage?" Pirate could be a complete dick and Nixon growled, reaching forward to hit the other's shoulder. "He's not an orphan."

§ Even though technically he wasn't an orphan he certainly felt like one. And that was really hard to cope with at this point. One of his hands settled onto Nixon's thigh and he curled his fingers into the fabric. "What am I going to do?" He asked him softly, as if the boy would have all of the answers.

§ He liked to think he had all the answers, so the question settled against him, clearing his head and making him not feel so panicked. "You're going to come home with me and you're going to take a shower and then you're going to have some tomato soup. Tomato soup is my favorite, is it your favorite? There's chicken soup too. Then you're going to sleep." Pirate was looking in the rearview mirror, catching on to something strange about the way the two interacted.

§ Resting his head against Nixon's shoulder, he just closed his eyes. With his head there it put them close enough together to show off the fact that they were entirely identical save for maybe the color of their hair. A shiver ran through Kennedy and he clung a little tighter to Nixon.

§ Pirate very nearly drove off the road because he was staring so hard. "Nixon, what the fuck is going on?" Was it fae? Some other creature? It unnerved him and he drove faster, wanting to get home to the protection of the pack. Nixon shook his head. "It's okay. His name is Kennedy. He's my brother. Ask my dad--he'll tell you. He has to now; he can't lie anymore." There was bitterness in his voice and Nixon was silent the rest of the way home. When they pulled down the driveway to the house, Pirate got out. "Sigmund is still at work." He said, reluctant to call him because he didn't need the guy taking over. Nixon ignored Pirate's dilemma and helped Kennedy out of the car. "I'll tell him when he gets home."

§ Out of the car he stayed leaned against Nixon for support. He looked at Pirate, just trying to figure out why the man seemed so upset by his presence but he couldn't spend too muh time thinking about it because his mind was whirling. This was where his dad was, this was where his brother was and the family he had never even known about. "Is he here? Is your dad here?"

§ "I don't know. It doesn't matter." Already he wanted to keep Kennedy just for himself. Their dad had given the other boy up, and taken Nixon's mother away from him. He didn't deserve to meet Kennedy. Taking him inside, he helped him up the stairs, listening for sounds of other people in the house. Carter had one of the large rooms with his own bathroom and an office off of the bedroom. He was quiet when he walked past the large double-doors.

§ Kennedy was trembling but he stayed quiet too and they walked down the hall and towards Nixon's bedroom. The shower sounded wonderful, even better than eating, because he could get clean and warm and maybe wash the scent of death off of himself in the process. "I like tomato soup best too." he murmured as they walked past.

§ "I'll make you some while you're in the shower." He offered kindly and led him to the small bathroom down the hall. "I'll get you clean clothes too. There's soap in there and you can use my toothbrush. It's the blue one." He was going to leave him alone to clean up so that he could get other things ready.

§ Stripping out of the clothes he'd been wearing for four days, Kennedy ran the shower hot and then climbed in. His plan had been to make it a quick one but once he was under the water he decided it would be a better idea to let the heat sink into his bones and to warm him to the core. That way he wouldn't get cold again so soon if the boy's father decided to make him leave.

§ Not long after Nixon left, a knock came at the door. "Nix? I thought I heard you come in. How did studying go?" It was Carter, having come out from his room. His voice was familiar a timbre that ran in the family, even if Kennedy hadn't heard it before.

§ When he heard it, Kennedy just sort of froze. What was he supposed to say to that? It wasn't like he could just call out. The man would be able to tell that it wasn't the same voice as his son. So instead he stepped back out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist so that he could go to the door. Tugging it open just a little, he looked out, wanting to see what their father looked like.

§ Carter was surprised to see the door open and he had his hands on his hips. "Everything all right?" Something was off about Nixon and that worried Carter. He was overly protective of the kid, knowing in the back of his mind that he'd already failed his son by not making it work with his mother. The man was of average height, blond, blue eyed like Nixon. He was exactly as their father should look.

§ Nodding a little bit, he studied Carter's face and his eyes and the way that he looked and then he just nodded again. "Fine." He murmured, keeping his voice low. "Just taking a shower." He didn't give carter much room to reply before he shut the door and locked it. What could he even say to that man at the moment? Nothing. So he dropped his towel and climbed back into the shower, trapping himself inside with all the steam that had built up in his absence.

§ He was close to knocking again, but stopped himself, recalling how upset Nixon got when he was too nosy. Sighing and just resting his hand against the wood of the door, Carter left after a few moments and went back into his room, narrowly missing Nixon who had a pile of clean clothes. When he tried the door and found it locked, Nixon knocked quietly.

§ "Just a minute." Kennedy called out, thinking maybe it was his father again and he didn't want to be bothered until he was clean and dressed. He finished his shower, having scrubbed himself clean, and then he got out and wrapped a towel tightly around himself before opening the door again. When he saw it was Nixon he was more than a little relieved and he let his brother come into the bathroom.

§ "We're the same size, obviously." He seemed pleased by that and set the clothes on the counter. "Your soup is ready. Are you feeling any better?" He was very concerned about Kennedy's well being and it made him feel more stable to take care of someone rather than thinking about what had happened to his brother.

§ Nodding a little bit he took the clothes. "I'm going to get dressed and brush my teeth and then I will be out, all right?" He didn't tell him that he'd seen his father. Their father. He would once he was dressed and maybe once he'd had a little bit to eat.

§ He nodded, leaving Kennedy to his own devices, going to wait outside the door. When Kennedy came out, he led him to his bedroom, figuring it would be better if, for now, the new wolf stayed with him.

§ Dressed in clean clothes, he felt warmer now, having layered the long sleeved shirt and sweatshirt that Nixon had given him and then he had even put on the socks to keep his feet warm. As they made their way to Nixon's room he stepped a little closer, leaning in against him. "Your dad knocked on the door, he thought I was you. I didn't say anything."

Leo, Hiro

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 20:14:33 GMT

When Leo had gotten home that night, he'd stared at the phone number on his hand for a long time. The man who'd written it there had been incredibly attractive, but so much so that it made Leo suspicious. People weren't that alluring without some sort of nefarious purpose, or at least they weren't in his world. Eventually though, Leo had scratched down the phone number onto a slip of paper and tucked it under the phonebook before he went to go wash up for bed.

A couple of weeks later, it wasn't that Leo had forgotten about the encounter, but he was surprised to see the number flutter out onto the floor when he picked up the phonebook to order pizza. Glancing down at it, he rolled his bottom lip in between his teeth thoughtfully. After a good five minutes of staring, he reached down to pick it up and grabbed the phone in one bold move. He told himself it was because Hiro was suspicious and he was intent on finding out more about him. Really, it was because Leo just wanted to see him again. Dialing the number, he listened to the phone ring.

Pirate, Trevor

Thu, 30 Oct 2008 08:53:31 GMT

PIRATE: Pirate had been running night shift all that week and now that he was off, his internal clock hadn't shifted back to being a daywalker. So at 3 o'clock in the morning, he was rustling around in the kitchen, baking cookies. They weren't the complicated sort, just the roll of cookie dough sliced up and placed on a baking tray. Leaning against the oven, he waited for them to be done, eyeing the fridge for some milk.

TREVOR: Trevor wasn't a light sleeper by any means, but he too kept weird hours. Not because of work or anything like that but mostly just because he catnapped through out the day so there were times in the night that he woke and just needed something to eat or something to drink. When he smelled cookies he got up and headed downstairs to see who was up and who was baking. Of course he was ruffled to see that it was Pirate and he just grumbled to himself as he went to get a bottle of water so he could go back upstairs.

PIRATE: As much as Pirate hated the fact that Sigmund was alpha, he had to respect him. Deep down, he didn't want the other disappointed in him, so when he saw Trevor, he pushed down his desire to harass him and just watched him for a second. "These cookies'll be done in a couple minutes, if you want some." He offered. It wasn't really an apology, or an invitation, and it certainly wasn't a white flag. But it had an element of truce to it.

TREVOR: Trevor just shrugged his shoulders. His throat had more or less healed but his voice was still kind of scratchy and he didn't want Pirate to know that he couldn't talk without it being gravelly yet. He wandered over to the back door and just peered out the glass, looking into the darkness.

PIRATE: Pirate just stood there until the timer rung, and bent over to free the cookies from the oven. If the good smell of warm cookies didn't get Trevor, then nothing would and the kid could go back upstairs with no argument from Pirate. Getting out a plate, he hesitated, then brought down two.

TREVOR: Warm cookies kind of pulled him in and he wandered back over to grab one. When he saw the two plates he didnt' say anything, just waited for Pirate to get them off of the tray with a spatula so that he didn't burn himself doing it with his hand.

PIRATE: He wasn't going to let Trevor ruin his days off, so he kept calm, even giving forth a somewhat friendly vibe. Giving him a nice pile of cookies, Pirate dished himself some second, which meant a lot considering his desire for power and place. Sitting at the little kitchen table, he poured himself some milk from the cold pitcher.

TREVOR: Trevor noticed that he gave him the cookies first so he waited to take them until Trevor had his too. Then he muttered a "thanks" which came out scratchy and sounded like he had a sore throat or some sort of cough itching to follow it.

PIRATE: Pirate kind of liked that, knowing instantly it was because of his grip on the bou's throat the other day. "You're welcome." He made sure his voice was clear and strong. "Are you going to stay and eat?"

TREVOR: "Do you want me to stay and eat?" he hated sounding raspy to pirate but the cat was already out of the back on that one, so to speak, and so he didn't bother trying to hide it.

PIRATE: "Yeah. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to stay. I would have said: go away, Trevor. And I wouldn't have dished you up cookies. You gotta learn to read the signs." He took a bite of cookie which ended up being the whole cookie.

TREVOR: "How am I to know you didn't do it just because Sigmund told you to be nice to me?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow before he popped one of the cookies into his mouth. It was still hot but not so hot that it burned.

PIRATE: "Would it matter if he had?" Sigmund hadn't in so many words, but his look had spoke volumes about how he wanted Pirate to act to their guest. "You think I'd be nice to you on my own?"

TREVOR: "That's what I thought. Thanks for the cookies." he wasn't going to stick around downstairs with Pirate if the wolf didn't really want him around so he just grabbed his plate and his water so that he could head back upstairs on his own.

PIRATE: "What the hell does it matter? You think I'm going to instantly like some intruder my alpha was to much of a hippie to turn away?" He stayed sitting, but he hoped his words alone would bring the cat back.

TREVOR: "I'm not an intruder. I'm just staying here for a while until I can go home. I wasn't really given much choice in this matter, you know? I just came here to mind my business until things blow over and then I'm going to go home and it will be like I was never even here in the first place."

PIRATE: "You think you're going home?" Pirate scoffed and shook his head. "If Pride wars are anything like Pack wars, there won't be shit for you to go home to." When full out fighting broke out, no one won it seemed. Pirate had seen it happen, and his parents had been killed, even though they took the peaceful stance. That's why Pirate hated Sigmund's diplomacy so much, his soft hand: lack of control led to annihilation.

TREVOR: "Well they aren't. I can go home when it's over." Though there was a touch of hesitation in his voice as he looked at Pirate. "Thanks for the cookies." He was going to go upstairs and be by himself because he really didn't want to think about the fact that his parents might not make it out of this alive.

PIRATE: "Don't leave," Pirate said, and for the first time his voice sounded genuine. He felt bad for what he said, about there not being a home left for Trevor. He was grouchy, but he wasn't totally heartless.

TREVOR: Stopping, he turned and looked back over his shoulder at Pirate. There was a touch of fear and uncertainty in his eyes but he tried to keep the look off of his face because he didn't want him to know that he was getting under his skin now.

PIRATE: Pirate stared at him, wondering if he was obeying or granting a request. "It sucks that your parents sent you away--you probably could have helped them a lot. You're a good fighter." It was kind but it was true as well because not a lot of people got the best of Pi.

TREVOR: "It wouldn't have helped. My parents would have been too concerned over me and it would have gotten them killed. They needed to be able to fight." And he liked to believe that that was the truth.

PIRATE: Pirate nodded, accepting that. "Still sucks," he shrugged and ate another cookie. "Do you want a sandwich?" As if that would help the situation, but that was the best he could offer.

TREVOR: "Yeah, sure." He ate another cookie and came back into the kitchen to stand against the counter. Putting the plate on the counter he watched Pirate for a minute. After a few minutes of silence he finally said, "I am going to have something to go back to."

PIRATE: "You don't need to hear me agree with that for you to believe it." And he wasn't going to agree with it because he knew better. Or at least he had a pessimistic view of the issue. He got into the fridge and took out the sandwich fixings. Working quickly, he made two huge, serious sandwiches. Setting them on the table, he gestured for Trevor to sit down.

TREVOR: Trevor slid into the seat and he pulled the plate with the sandwich a little closer. He was honestly a little nervous to sit with Pirate now, especially since the wolf knew what would get under his skin now and it was a little upsetting to even think of it. "Thank you."

PIRATE: Sensing the discomfort, Pirate sighed. Before taking a bite of his sandwich, he leaned back in his chair. "I wasn't born here, you know. I came to live here after my parents were killed. The alpha then took me in, but he made me work for it. I guess I'm just jealous you got Sigmund, is all." He gave him a look as if to ask: better?

TREVOR: A little bit better. "If it weren't for Sigmund they would have sent me off to be alone somewhere, so I am grateful that I got Sigmund." Because this, being with people and being safe, was better than being alone and constantly wondering if there was someone that was going to hurt him.

PIRATE: Digging into his sandwich, Pirate looked perfectly comfortable, even though he wasn't. "Yeah, he should be our camp counselor, a regular fucking boy scout--helping old ladies cross the street."

TREVOR: "He is a bit of a goody two shoes, but I like him." Trevor thought that Sigmund was sweet and he thought if all wolves or lions were like him then they wouldn't have had this problem with war, but it just wasn't in their nature to be like Sigmund.

PIRATE: And Pirate didn't think it should be in their nature. He was omega material, through and through. The fact that he'd taken alpha--well, it was just wrong. "I like him too." Which was true, but he hated admitting it.

TREVOR: "Hard to tell sometimes." What with the way they treated each other or the things they said on occasion. But he wasn't going to bring any of that up, and instead just put his energy into devouring that sandwich.

PIRATE: "Have you met anyone else around here?" He asked, deciding that it'd be a good idea to change the subject away from Sigmund. The wolf could hear anything and the man knew well enough everything Pi thought of him.

TREVOR: "No, I haven't really met anyone else." He shook his head a little bit and just finished off his cookies. "I've been mostly keeping to myself. There was a man named Clary that I met shortly but he didn't have much to say."

PIRATE: "You should make friends while you're here. Never know when you might need them. Besides, it'd probably make your time here easier." Not that he was offering his own friendship. Still, it didn't seem like he was denying it anymore.

TREVOR: "Well I like to keep to myself mostly but I might try to get to know some of the other wolves eventually." He missed being around other lions. Sleeping in a pile when the sun was shining down on them. It made him miss home and almost took away his appetite but he just finished off his sandwich and then stacked his two empty plates together.

PIRATE: "What sort of friends did you have back there?" He asked, and didn't sound as if he was asking to collect sore spots, but only because he was curious and wanted to know.

TREVOR: "Just my pack mates mostly. My best friend, he's aboy my age. I tried to ask if he could come too but they wouldn't have any of that. He wanted to stay and fight." And Trevor knew that he was going to die. "I feel like a coward being here."

PIRATE: "You're not a coward; you didn't have a choice." That was logical enough and he shrugged, finishing his own sandwich and picking up all the plates to take to the sink like a good host.

TREVOR: Nodding a little bit, he put his head down on his hands and just watched as Pirate put the plates in the sink. "What did the alpha make you do to get into this pack before it was Sigmund's?" He asked.

PIRATE: "Nothing specific." He said shortly and started washing the dishes by hand. He turned the water on loudly so that it could pointedly drown out any further discussion.

TREVOR: Getting the hint, Trevor got up from the table so that he could go on upstairs to his room. Now that he had eaten he was ready to go back to bed and the fact that it was three thirty am was weighting heavily on his shoulders.

PIRATE: Pirate let him go, having his own limits. He finished the dishes and went to his own room to clean it up a little before going to bed as well.

Sigmund, Ryland

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 09:00:20 GMT

SIGMUND: It was always a mixture of intuition and classic research that kept Sigmund abreast of wolves in his territory. He hadn't been the alpha for all that long, but already he was changing the way the pack worked, loosening restrictions and modernizing the way things got done. The wolf he was searching for at the moment had been incredibly quiet, reclusive. Some of the local supernaturals made note of his peculiar, if not unfortunate family situation. Sigmund knew he was going to have to meet this person, because even quiet ones could cause a great deal of turmoil. He'd kept his ear to the ground and finally got a location on the man. When he showed up at his door, he stood on the other side of it with confidence and strength, but very little threat.

RYLAND: The house Ryland lived in was enormous. He'd purchased it with some of the money from his trust shortly after he'd become a wolf. He was no longer very welcome in his brothers' house and he wanted a place that was out of the way, far from everyone else. He lived at the base of the mountain in a wooded area. The house was a two story cabin type house that he hadn't decorated at all. The only room in the house with furniture was his bedroom. That didn't bother him much because he never had visitors. Gavin came around once in awhile and when he heard the knock at the door, he supposed that was who it was until he sensed it was another wolf. Immediately he was suspicious and he opened the door, just looking at Sigmund. "Yes?"

SIGMUND: "Usually this is the other way around when--well, when you're obviously so stable already." He glanced up at the house, the way it felt established and rich, even though he could see the stark lack of furniture behind Ryland. Sigmund exuded power, but not overwhelmingly so. It was clear though, that he claimed his space. "I'm Sigmund Lewis. My pack lives here in Providence."

RYLAND: "I'm sorry?" Ryland replied, leaning up against the doorframe. "Am I bothering someone?" He asked, making no move to invite Sigmund in. He'd heard of him from the few wolves he attempted to speak to since his transformation. No one had welcomed him and in fact, most had shyed away. At this point, he didn't care. He was starting to resign himself to the fact that he would be alone.

SIGMUND: Sigmund watched the other's body language, depending on it more than his words. "No, you're not bothering anyone." Yet--he added in his mind. "Usually wolves introduce themselves to us, to me more specifically. You certainly don't seem crazy or incapable of speech, so I waited. But I figured it was time we got to know each other."

RYLAND: "Oh," was Ryland's only reply. He wasn't exactly versed in the ways of wolves. He really hadn't yet accepted what he'd become and he wasn't sure if he ever would. All he knew was that his brothers didn't want him anymore and the few other wolves he'd attempted to talk to didn't seem to want anything to do with him either. "Ryland Volaire," he said finally, extending a hand.

SIGMUND: Sigmund relaxed visibly at the hand extension. Taking it up in a firm handshake, Sigmund nodded. "Good to meet you. You're more than welcome at my house. There are quite a few others there and even loners need their own kind sometimes, you know?" Maybe Ryland didn't know. He had a strange history, or rather strange relations. He was, of course, the most curious about and most wary of Ryland's family.

RYLAND: "Their own kind?" Ryland repeated, still not pleased at the fact that he was any other kind than human. The fact that he'd been turned by a werewolf in a power play for the Volaire family made him more pissed off than he'd ever been in his life. He hadn't asked for this. "I'm sure you have heard of me, or else you wouldn't be here. If no one else wants anything to do with me, why do you?"

SIGMUND: "Because it's my job to protect the wolves in this area." Whether that meant Ryland was included in that protection, or he was what Sigmund was protecting the others from, wasn't clear. Sigmund sighed because Ryland's expectation to be accepted by, or maybe make friends with other wolves was an unfortunate one. "What did you expect?"

RYLAND: "I didn't expect anything," Ryland replied. "Look, I'm not going to bother you guys or anything," he said, running a hand through his hair. "You don't have to worry." He wondered if he should invite Sigmund in. "You can come in. I just...don't have anything to offer you." He took a step back and pushed the door open a little further.

SIGMUND: Sigmund did want to come in, and he stepped forward as soon as Ryland offered. "I don't have to worry? Are you sure" He'd heard enough to know that Ryland's brothers weren't exactly philanthropists. "I have to admit your family tree is a bit troublesome."

RYLAND: "I don't see how any of that is my fault," Ryland replied, shutting the door as Sigmund came in. "Do you see them around here? They don't want anything to do with me." He walked into the living room even though there was no furniture and just kind of stood in front of the big window.

SIGMUND: "You're very defensive. I didn't say it was your fault. I'm not here to punish you." Sigmund had a cool head, logical, and steady. But the stresses of being an alpha sometimes got the better of him and he wished he could go back and unchallenge the previous alpha. "Brothers never stay away for long. In the long run, that's a tie you can't break."

RYLAND: "Okay, so if you're concerned about it then do whatever it is you need to do. Do you want me to leave?" Ryland asked, turning around from the window to look at Sigmund. "I already lost my job and my family. What else do you want me to do?" He knew he wasn't exactly being rational but he hadn't even begun to sort through things.

SIGMUND: "No, no one wants you to leave. But I have to wonder why you're really still here if your brothers don't want anything to do with you." Spite, maybe. Or worse, Ryland didn't want to let them go, and he was still somehow under their sway.

RYLAND: "Where else would I go?" Ryland asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Why should I be the one to have to leave? They can leave if they want to leave."

SIGMUND: That was fair enough. Sigmund finally seemed to take in his surroundings. "Interesting design aesthetic." He was lightening up now, deciding to move on from the topic of family because he could learn more through keeping an eye on him rather than interrogating him.

RYLAND: "That's why I bought it," Ryland nodded. The architecture had appealed to him. "I just don't know much about decorating and I figure it doesn't matter since I'm the only one here."

SIGMUND: "Where do you sit?" He ventured wryly, glancing back at Ryland. Sigmund wasn't huge into decorating, but he thought furniture was pretty important.

RYLAND: "In my bedroom?" Ryland replied as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "I have a king sized canopy bed and a Lazy Boy in front of the tv. What more do I need?" He asked, turning around to look at Sigmund again. He usually ate dinner in one of those two places as well and the rare guests he had were Gavin and Aiden, both of whom had no need for a kitchen table to sit at.

SIGMUND: Sigmund thought it was a pretty sad existence, the idea of just sitting in ones bedroom and living alone. But he wasn't rude enough to say so out loud. "Are you here a lot? What do you do? I mean, for a job." He always tried to avoid interrogation, but it was hard for him; he liked asking questions and getting answers.

RYLAND: "I was a teacher," Ryland replied, turning away to look out the window again. "High school American history," he added. Things had gotten so crazy in the past year that he'd had to quit his job since he never knew when he was going to be in or taking a day off. "You?" He asked, despite himself.

SIGMUND: "Do you think you'll ever go back?" People who taught were generally those who had a passion for it. The job didn't pay enough to hate it. When Ryland asked about his job, Sigmund grinned, pleased with at least some show of interest. "I write for the local newspaper. So I'm paid to be nosy, if you were wondering why."

RYLAND: "I just thought it was your job to be nosy since you are the...Alpha," Ryland replied, still finding the term to be odd coming from his mouth. "And I would like to...maybe, someday," he added, sighing a little.

SIGMUND: "Glad to hear that." People tended to do better when they continued to lead a somewhat normal life. Or at least that's what Sigmund had noticed. "I take it you don't need anything." Except furniture, it drove him crazy the guy didn't have any furniture.

RYLAND: "No, I'm fine," Ryland replied, sighing a little. Not really though...or as fine as he could be, he supposed. He stared out the window a moment longer before turning around to look at Sigmund again. "Thank you," he added, not wanting to appear ungrateful to this person of importance who had come to check on him.

SIGMUND: He had the urge to threaten Ryland to drive home the point that he didn't want the pack to have any problems because of the man's ties. But he thought better of it, even if he couldn't hide the cautious vibe that was following his movements. "Well, all right then. I'll get out of your hair."

RYLAND: "Oh...alright," Ryland nodded, walking toward the door to show Sigmund out. He wouldn't have responded well to threatening, that was for certain, although he most likely would have responded by dissolving into a mess of tears, probably the least likely thing Sigmund would have expected.

SIGMUND: Even though he didn't like the idea that a wolf was living in his territory with little contact with him, Sigmund would deal with it if it meant a lower likelihood of having to deal with the complications that may stem from his situation. He hesitated a little bit, thinking that perhaps he should stay, but his own uncertainty won out and he left Ryland to his own devices.

Pirate, Trevor

Tue, 28 Oct 2008 17:24:32 GMT

PIRATE: It had been a couple weeks since Trevor had come to live with the pack. Pirate, as was Pirate's greatest talent, had avoided what he didn't want to deal with, and this new creature was not something he wanted to deal with. Still, he didn't avoid things forever, and eventually, he knocked on Trevor's door, opening it without waiting for an invite. Leaning in the doorway, he folded his arms over his chest and quirked a brow. "So, how's it going?"

TREVOR: Acclimating himself to the new life here in Providence was harder than he thought it would be but Trevor had been doing a fair enough job getting settled. They learned quickly that much like his beast, Trevor did things at his own pace and that was if they got done at all. He spent a lot of time in the woods in his lion form and a lot of that time was spent napping in the sun. A lot of the time he spent in the house was also spent lounging or reading or just being contrary because he could be. The only person he actually listened to was Sigmund and that was only because this was his house. When the door opened he looked up and away from the book he was reading and over at Pirate. "It's going."

PIRATE: "Oh yeah?" And the response was a challenge more than a confirmation of what Trevor had said. "You're very quiet." Because he lived next door and Pirate hadn't heard a peep out of the boy the whole time he'd been there. "I like that. It means I don't have to come in here and stuff socks in your mouth." The way Pirate finally walked into the room was a motion of claiming the space. Sigmund could do it without trying, or encroaching on anyone, but Pirate had to make a show of it to get it done.

TREVOR: The most that Trevor did in response to his room being invaded was let one arm go from resting across his stomach to resting over his head on the bed. If they had been in his own territory there would have been a fight but as it were they weren't and so he just continued lounging as Pirate came in. "If you are going to get kinky I would prefer a ball gag to socks." He said, his accent thick as he actually gave Pirate a whole sentence as opposed to two words.

PIRATE: There was something about Trevor that made him want to force the boy to action. Pirate himself was a slow sort of person as well, though his slowness was peppered with tension and calculating reserve, giving it a completely different sort of vibe. Glancing around the room, he wanted to know if Trevor had made it his own in any way. "What did you leave behind there?" It was an honest question, though one meant to be just a little bit mean.

TREVOR: "My parents." And a lover but he wasn't going to give any ammo to Pirate when he seemed to already want to get under his skin. Trevor regarded him with a lazy gaze but there was an abundance of life in his eyes. The beast was ready and prepared for an attack, even if it didn't seem like it.

PIRATE: "Is that all? That's not so bad. Lots of kids are itching to get away from their parents." Granted, fleeing the country because of political turmoil and war--not so much. He pulled a chair from the corner, lifting it easily even though it was a heavy, wing-backed lounge chair. Setting it down next to Trevor's bed, he sat down, crossing one leg over the other and making himself comfortable.

TREVOR: Trevor let his gaze follow Pirate's actions and he just stayed lounged back on his bed. After Pirate got settled he put his book down and gave the wolf his full attention. "Did you need something?" or did he just want to chat because so far none of them had wanted to chat with him except Sigmund.

PIRATE: He laughed a little and shook his head. "No, I don't need anything. I'm just being friendly. I'm sure Sigmund has told you all about me, warned you about me because I'm not very nice and I make small children cry."

TREVOR: "I suppose that it is a good thing that I am not a small child then." He said softly, smiling just a touch at that. "Though I was a very difficult child to make cry so I am not sure you would have liked me."

PIRATE: "No, I probably would have liked you. I don't enjoy making kids cry, they just do." Because Pirate was intimidating, or said the wrong thing, or glared at them like he was going to kill them. "So just parents then. No siblings? Suppose they'd be here too if there were."

TREVOR: "Im the only one." The only child. And that meant one day if the pride didn't destroy itself he would go back and be their king. He really wasn't interested in that but if it was what his parents wanted he'd do it.

PIRATE: Pirate laughed a little. "Okay, Simba. See, I knew you were the Lion King. Leaving the kingdom to the hyenas. Then you'll make a triumphant return. Though I don't think you'll find a Timon and Pumba here." Odd that he knew that movie so well. He'd never admit it, but he frequently watched it.

TREVOR: "Careful or I will make you my Nala and take you back to Africa with me." Pirate would obviously get that Trevor had more or less called him his bitch since he seemed to be so well versed with the lion king.

PIRATE: His jaw clenched and he uncrossed his legs, setting them firmly apart as if he was preparing himself to stand up. "Oh that's cute. I come in to be nice and you threaten me? What are you going to do, pin me down? Please."

TREVOR: That made Trevor smile and he closed his eyes, stretching his body out a little bit more on the bed. It made him happy just to see Pirate's jaw clench as if he were angered by the statement. If it came down to fisticuffs he knew that there was a very good chance that he would lose, mostly just because he didn't know how strong Pirate was or how capable he was when it came to fighting. "Afraid I might get the better of you?"

PIRATE: "Afraid? Seriously? You're ridiculous. I'm not afraid of you or anything you think you can do. You're just some half-pint kitten. Sig says your mane hasn't even come in yet." Though Pirate said it as an insult, Sigmund had said it with fondness.

TREVOR: That was an insult but Trevor didn't let it show that Pirate's words had hurt him. "If you thought that there was seriously no chance of it your panties wouldn't be in a bunch." Tucking his hands under his head he waited to see if the fact that he seemed unruffled would piss Pirate off even more.

PIRATE: Pirate stood. "All right then. Come at me." It had been a challenge and Pi didn't back down from challenges. Even if Trevor hadn't meant it to escalate to this point, the wolf wasn't going to let it just go unanswered. He radiated power, but it wasn't controled, or graceful in any way.

TREVOR: "I have better things to do with my time than to prove anything to you." He yawned, as if Pirate was boring him. If it came down to a fight he would fight him but at the moment he was content with letting it all roll off of his shoulders. He wasn't going to be here much longer anyway, he hoped.

PIRATE: Narrowing his eyes, he leaned over the bed and put his hands on Trevor's shoulders, pushing them hard to the mattress. "You're going to learn real fast here that you don't talk unless you can back it up." That was Pirate's life--proving himself to others, constantly.

TREVOR: No. Now he had crossed the line. Trevor could talk shit all day but he didn't like being touched and Pirate had put his hands on him. Lifting his hands up, he shoved Pirate back off of him and sat up. "I didn't say I couldn't back it up, I just said I had better things to do with my time than to fight with someone like you."

PIRATE: "Someone like me? You mean someone who actually belongs here?" Pirate didn't go very far when Trevor shoved him and he was back within striking distance in the blink of an eye. "You can't 'just say' things around here."

TREVOR: "Someone who thinks he has to piss all over the house just so people know it's his." Trevor shoved him again, not liking that Pirate was getting right up in his face. "You think you are so big and tough, but you're not." He knew if he lost now that Pirate would be nothing but smug from here until the end of eternity but he couldnt help it. Pirate had crossed the line.

PIRATE: It didn't take much to finally goad him into attack, and that second shove had done the trick. With much of his might, he leaped forward, grabbing Trevor's throat with his strong hand and slamming him back against the headboard. He didn't say a word, just held onto the boy with a furious look in his eye.

TREVOR: When Trevor was just a little boy his father had taught him about respect and about patience. Unfortunately neither of those were involved at the moment as he saw red. He knew better than to disrespect Sigmund by fighting in the house but he was young and often times foolish and this was one of those times. Instaed of trying to untangle Pirate's hand from his throat he just hit the wolf in the side of the head with his fist, intent on getting him off of him.

PIRATE: The grip loosened, but didn't come off entirely. Pirate felt his whole brain rattle inside his head when the hit came, but he steadied himself quickly and brought his knee down on the top of Trevor's thigh, right into the meat of it, crushing into the femur. He wanted to make the other cry out, even though he knew it would bring Sigmund, or someone else.

TREVOR: Pain shot through his leg and he let out a grunt but didn't give Pirate the satisfaction of crying out loud enough for anyone in the house to hear. He hit Pirate again and this time didn't hesitate before pulling back to do it again. He wanted the wolf off of him and he wanted to makeh im pay.

PIRATE: A growl tore from Pirate's throat and he dodged the second hit, leveling one against Trevor with unyielding force. He had to prove that he was the stronger one; he had to make Trevor submit at least a little. His grip tightened back around the other's throat, squeezing down so hard he could feel the muscles and ligaments give way beneath the pressure.

TREVOR: The hit he took from Pirate made him see black but his vision snapped back in a second later. He wrapped his hand around Pirate's wrist when he felt the wolf starting to crush his windpipe and he squeezed hard enough to cause the bone to break. There was no audible snap but merely a gravely sound that Trevor knew meant he'd broken it. He kept crushing, wanting to prevent Pirate from closing his fingers hard enough to kill him.

PIRATE: Pirate hissed from the pain, groaning and trying to yank his hand away, making the bone disintegrate more. Quickly, he dug his good hand into Trevor's side, clenching his fingers so hard into the flesh that he threatened to rip a chunk out. The sharpness of his fingernails tore into the skin with anger and the first thuds of panic came to his heart.

TREVOR: Another whimper tried to work it's way out of him but he couldn't make a single sound. All he could do was let go of his wrist and use that hand to hit him again. Anything to just get Pirate the hell away from him. If he had enough space to get up off of the bed then he was going to attack, but he needed Pirate back in order to do that.

PIRATE: When his wrist was released, he was pulling away. The hit connected, however and sent him sprawling back because he had nothing left to hold onto and his brain was far too focused on the way the bone was screaming at him to stop moving. He was quickly back on his feet though, ready to lunge again.

TREVOR: Trevor was up off of the bed in a flash. Blood was trickling down his side from where Pirate had grabbed him and sank his fingers in but he ignored the pain shooting through his body in favor of trying to tackle him back down to the ground. He was on Pirate as soon as he was back on his feet, trying to force him down.

PIRATE: The force of the weight crashing into him sent them both backwards, crashing into the door to the bathroom with a loud bang. Pirate knew he didn't have a lot of time after that and he fought back with even more ferocity before the door opened and Sigmund had Pirate by the scruff of the collar, yanking him back and out from under Trevor. "That didn't take very long." He said with a sour, but calm face.

TREVOR: When Sigmund got involved Trevor just backed off, sinking back against the bed even though he was still sitting on the floor. He pressed his hand against the side of his body cover the wound that Pirate had given him and he just looked at the wolves, not saying anything because he couldn't say anything.

SIGMUND: Sigmund gave Pirate a look that could kill him where he stood, but the wolf bore it with dignity. "Go get some first aid supplies." He could smell blood on someone and the way Pirate was holding his wrist, he knew that would take a couple days to heal properly. "Go." He ordered Pirate, who obeyed, but didn't look happy about it. Turning to Trevor he sighed.

TREVOR: If he could have, he would have apologized. As it were he tried to give him an apologetic look but he was in so much pain that he was pretty sure he wasn't able to pull it off. Instead he just sat there, trying not to get upset but it was quickly becoming hard not to be.

SIGMUND: He felt bad for the kid, who was probably just trying to defend himself. Sigmund knew exactly how Pirate could be and he'd had to put him in his place more than once in a scuffle. Reaching down, he carefully lifted Trevor back up onto the bed and when Pirate returned, he gave him an expectant look. "You caused the wounds, you fix them." Pirate didn't say a word, just glared and sat next to Trevor with a jerk, doing his best to fix the kid up one handed.

TREVOR: Trevor would rather bleed to death than let Pirate touch him so he shoved the man's hand away from him and he rolled over to the other side of the bed and off. Once he was on his feet he stood there, leaning forward so his hands were on the bed and holding him up.

SIGMUND: "Trevor," Sigmund started, but Pirate had already thrown the first aid box off the bed in a sudden tantrum and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Sigmund let him go, realizing more of a fight wasn't going to help much. "I'll do it." Sigmund said, looking a little disappointed that neither had been big enough people to just let this go. But then again, Sigmund didn't know what had been said.

TREVOR: Trevor just shook his head and grabbed the first aid box before Sigmund could get it. Then he went into the bathroom and shut the door so that he could be alone and he could lick his own wounds clean.

SIGMUND: "He's not a terrible guy, Trevor." Sigmund called after the boy. "Just give him a chance--I'm sure he'll come around." Even though Pirate was never going to be pleasant about it. With that, he left the kid alone, figuring that was the best thing for him right now.

Pirate, Kohl

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 04:46:52 GMT

PIRATE: Pirate was beginning to suspect that Kohl was a very touchy feely person. Granted, it didn't take a brain surgeon to figure that one out. But he was being sure to keep his distance from the other, offering meals and answers to questions in a prefunctory manner. At the moment, Pirate was watching a movie on the small television in his room. He had it down real low because he knew other people in the house would be able to hear it if it was up much louder, and he could hear it just fine from his vantage point. It was from his secret stash of Disney movies.

KOHL: Kohl wasn't feeling all that great when he woke up from his nap and on top of it all, he was still missing Kelsy. He could hear the faint rumble of the television from Pirate's room and he slipped out of bed, slowly walking toward the sound of the noise, wearing nothing but a pair of oversized pajama pants tied tightly around his slender waist. "Pirate?" He said, poking his head through the door. "I don't feel....hey," he brightened a little. "I like this one." He wandered over to the bed and climbed on next to Pirate. It wasn't that he was necessarily touchy feely with everyone. It was that Kelsy wasn't there and that Pirate was the only one who ever seemed to talk to him for longer lengths of time.

PIRATE: Scooting away just a little, Pirate glanced over at Kohl with a frown. "You don't feel what?" Because information like that was important in the first stages of becoming a werewolf. It wasn't an overnight process and things could go wrong. The reason Pirate ended up taking care of so many of the new wolves was because he was good at keeping them alive, and deep down he liked that ability, and liked that Sigmund recognized it.

KOHL: "I don't know," Baby murmured, shrugging his shoulders. He wiggled himself into a laying down position next to Pirate and slid his arm around the man's waist. "I want to go home..." he trailed off, realizing that Jonathan's place wasn't home but it was where he had been staying. "I miss Kelsy," he sighed, resting his head on Pirate's chest. "It's so hot in here," he added, sure that the other could feel the heat from his bare chest radiating through Pirate's shirt.

PIRATE: Doing his best to wriggle himself away from Kohl, Pirate stood up. "We should go for a walk outside." He said finally, his own body reacting with an uneasy feeling, the need to be out with trees and grass, and earth. Clicking the remote to turn the television off right in the middle of Ariel's big moment, Pirate motioned with his hand for Baby to follow him. "Who's Kelsy?" He had to ask though.

KOHL: "My...best friend," Kohl said sadly, forcing himself up and off the bed. "Why do you want to go outside?" He asked, taking the hand that Pirate had been motioning with. He'd only been downstairs in the house a few times and everyone always stared at him so curiously, he felt like he was on display. Wiping a little sweat off his forehead, he walked along with Pirate. "I think I'm getting sick again," he said quietly. He'd been hoping that as soon as he was better he would be allowed to go home.

PIRATE: Pirate wasn't exactly shocked that the boy still didn't quite believe what was happening to him. It would be better to just let the shift take him by surprise, because when people got nervous, or allowed their human brains to think to hard about it, the change was always more difficult. "Because you're right, it's stuffy in here." Even though he thought about it, he didn't pull his hand away. The connection of touch between them felt like what was needed right now, so Pi wasn't going to deny him that.

KOHL: "Ugh, I feel shitty. Can we just sit outside? I don't really feel like going for a walk," Baby said, following him outside onto the porch. His insides kind of hurt, down to the core of his bones and he didn't feel like walking anywhere. There was a cool breeze though and he let go of Pirate's hand to go lean against the porch railing. He got frustrated after a few moments though when he realized the breeze wasn't making him feel any better.

PIRATE: Seeing the frustration and feeling himself feed off of it a little, Pirate wondered if that's why he wasn't so good at dealing with first timers. He loved being around them when it got to be too much for the human in them to control. It was really thrilling and made an excited growl lodge in his throat as he reached forward to tug at Kohl's hand. "Come on, just down the path here. Walking will make you feel better."

KOHL: "No it won't," Baby pouted, but he went along with Pirate anyway since the older man had taken his hand of his own free will. It wasn't until they had started down the path that his body started burning up even more and he had the undeniable need to scratch. He tugged his hand from Pirate and began to itch both of his arms as well as his chest and stomach. "What the fuck is going on?" He whimpered. "What is happening?" His bones hurt worse too but that wasn't his main concern until an ear-splitting crack resounded, causing him to fall to the ground. He screamed then, having no idea what was going on. "Pirate," he whimpered desperately, but then he was rendered speechless again as more bones started to break and reform.

PIRATE: Watching him was painful, but Pirate got down onto the ground, knees hitting dirt, hands planted firmly so that he could crouch down and be close. It was a dangerous distance for him, but his proximity was the best act of comfort he could offer. "It'll be all right--I promise." And those last two words were weighty, because he was not a man who broke his promises. The event was sparking his own wolf, making it swell up and beg to be let out of his skin, but he kept it at bay until the right moment.

KOHL: Kohl wanted to scream at Pirate that things were definitely not going to be all fucking right but unintelligible screams and yelps were all he could manage. His pajama pants were ripped right off his body as he shifted and the pain was excruciating. Every thought that crossed his mind had to do with his presumed imminent death until he felt every single one of his fingers break and reform into paws. Closing his eyes tightly, he curled up on the ground, just screaming in pain until suddenly all the breaking noises stopped. He just stayed put, scared to open his eyes and look around.

PIRATE: It was somewhere hidden beneath the screams that Pirate had shifted as well, a much quieter affair for him. He was a richly toned brown wolf, so deep in color it was almost black, but not quite. With his head down, he stared at Kohl's form with wide eyes that retained all of his human self. Still, he was more comfortable in this form, and so when he stood up to close the distance between them, he ran his tongue over Baby's head, licking the space between his ears.

KOHL: Opening his eyes, Baby's first instinct was to glare at Pirate and then snap at him, which he did. He was entirely unsure of what was going on and as he stared down at his paws again, he noticed they were a pure white, just like the rest of his body if he had been able to see it. The only thing dark about him were his eyes. They were they same dark black as they usually were in human form. He shook his head irritably and pulled away from Pirate, trying to stand. It wasn't two seconds before he collapsed back in the dirt with a pitiful whine.

PIRATE: Dodging the snap artfully, Pirate insisted on continuing to lick the other. Even when Kohl pulled away, Pirate waited until his legs went out from underneath him and then continued to wash. He liked the way Kohl tasted, his fur thick in his mouth and between his teeth when he nipped at the other's neck. Pirate was a large wolf, and his will was not to be denied, even though he expected Baby to be somewhat of a nuisance in this realm as well.

KOHL: Kohl was not a very big wolf at all, as opposed to Pirate. He was small, very much like his human self and just totally white all over except for the very tip of his tail, which was black. He attempted a growl to tell Pirate to back off but all that came out was a frustrated whine. He didn't like this washing business. He could wash himself if he needed to. And then when he felt Pirate nip at his neck, he panicked again, trying to get back on his feet. This time, he managed about three clumsy steps before his face hit the dirt.

PIRATE: Pi snorted, and trotted easily the three steps that Kohl had managed. Sitting back on his haunches, the wolf's tail thumped carelessly on the ground. After a second, he laid facing him, but seemed to have tired of cleaning routine. Instead, he out his head on his paws and inched his nose closer to Kohl's nose, perhaps just out to annoy him. If a wolf could look amused, Pirate looked that way now.

KOHL: Kohl was just exasperated now and he snapped at Pirate again, just narrowly missing his snout. Standing up on his wobbly legs, he turned around and went the opposite direction. He didn't fall this time but he was still moving slowly although he didn't care so long as he was getting away from Pirate. He didn't want the other wolf anywhere near him at the moment.

PIRATE: Pirate barked, and yipped, knowing that if he put a fire under Kohl's belly, maybe the wolf would learn the mechanics of his body more quickly by necessity. That, and Pirate felt like running. It was clear he was going to give chase, the energy building up in his limbs, coiling and ready to spring if Kohl didn't do something fast.

KOHL: Kohl looked over his shoulder and yipped, clearly displeased at the idea of being tackled by Pirate and started to move faster. His running was wobbly and clumsy but he was doing it. Granted, Pirate would have been able to catch him any time he pleased, but Baby was doing his best to outrun him. Dirt from the ground was turning his paws a light brown and he darted behind a tree to sit and lick at them.

PIRATE: He stayed purposefully far enough back to create the illusion of closing in on him, but with no threat of actually catching him. When the other wolf got going, Pirate loped satisfied behind him, and stopped to watch him clean his paws. It was a curious sight and Pirate tipped his head to the side, large ears perked.

KOHL: Kohl didn't like being dirty in his human form and he didn't like being dirty as a wolf either. As soon as he got his paws clean, he took off again, trying to lose Pirate. He was so intent on making his getaway that he didn't notice his paws had gone immediately brown once more.

PIRATE: Pirate let him go--or rather, he let him think that he had. Really, Pirate just focused on staying downwind of the other, stalking him quietly from behind cover so that he could be certain Kohl stayed on the pack territory and didn't get into any trouble that he couldn't handle on his own.

KOHL: Kohl ran for a good long while, satisfied that he had lost Pirate. The only problem was that by the time he was out of energy, he had no idea where he was or how to get back. He was exhausted and flopped over under a bush, curling up with a whimper.

PIRATE: Kohl finally curling up was a good sign. If he was tuckered out enough to sleep, then the first shift had gone off without a hitch and his chances of surviving the next few were good. Gaining some control would come with time, and then maybe his new charge would be out of the woods. Pirate settled down nearby, but not close enough to set the other off again. He kept one eye open until he was certain Kohl was asleep and drifted off himself only to wake up with grass imprinted on his face and various other parts of his body.

KOHL: Kohl managed to sleep through the shift back and by the time he woke up, night had begun to fall and he was shivering once his eyes finally opened. His entire body hurt worse than it ever had in his entire life and when Baby sat up and found himself naked under a bush, he started to tear up, not really remembering anything that happened while he had been in wolf form. Crawling out from under the bush, he rubbed at his aching limbs and sniffed harder to try and keep the tears from falling. He looked around, remembering that he'd been with Pirate out on the porch.

PIRATE: Getting to his feet, Pirate looked over to see Kohl emerging. "We should get you something to eat. It'll make you feel better." He was kinder at the moment, voice soft, stretching out his hand for Kohl to take. He wasn't sure if the other would be weirded out by the nudity, or how much he would even remember of the run. But he was confident at least some of it would fade in and out of his memory eventually.

KOHL: Kohl gasped, jumping away from Pirate's voice before realizing it was him. "Wh-what did you do to me?" He asked pitifully, looking up at the older man. Eventually though, he reached up and took Pirate's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "My whole body hurts. I feel like I got ran over by a car." He held onto Pirate's hand, not really minding that he was naked. He was naked a lot of the time because of his chosen profession.

PIRATE: Pirate looked surprised. "What did I do to you? I didn't do anything to you." Except perhaps pester him with a bath and chase him about. "Your entire body broke and reformed into that of a wolf--you would feel a hell of a lot better if you'd been hit by a car." He led them back up to the house, running upstairs really quick to grab some clothes for them. Pirate was comfortable to a point with nudity, but not much past that point. Tossing some pajama bottoms at Kohl, he went into the kitchen.

KOHL: Kohl just stood there, leaning up against the wall until Pirate came back. He accepted the pajama pants and tugged them on, slowly following him to the kitchen. He had been thinking about what Pirate said regarding his body breaking and reforming into a wolf and that kind of creeped him out. "Why don't I remember being a wolf then?" He asked, easing down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Everything hurt so bad, he could barely even stand it.

PIRATE: "Because the human brain goes to a lot to prevent itself from going crazy." Including just up and forgetting traumatizing events. "Eventually you'll start to remember your times as a wolf. You don't have to worry though, you can't get into that much trouble around here." He pulled some pizza rolls from the freezer and popped them in the oven.

KOHL: Kohl just sat there at the table, his stomach growling loudly as he smelled the cooking food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until then and now he was ravenous. Keeping his head down, he just tugged at his bangs, trying to ignore how positively miserable he felt. "I don't like this," he said softly, finally putting his head down on his arms. Gone was the spitfire, for the moment at least, as he tried to wrap his head around everything.

PIRATE: "Not many people do at first." Even some of those who had been born into it could be resistent to the shift and its alarming effects. "You get used to it though, and it can be pretty amazing down the road." He wanted to make Kohl feel better about all of this, but he knew his efforts were futile. When the pizza bites were ready, he pulled them out of the oven and dished them up. Setting them in the middle of the table, he sat across from Baby. "You didn't want me near you--you're a pretty grouchy wolf."

KOHL: As soon as the food was set in front of him, Baby snatched one of the pizza rolls off the plate, yelping a little when it burned his fingers. He dropped it and pouted, licking at his fingers before he even realized what he was doing. Grabbing a napkin, he finished wiping them off and looked over at Pirate. "Well, you're a pretty grouchy human," he countered, reaching over to poke him in the shoulder.

PIRATE: All of Pi's amusement at Kohl getting burned faded at the poke. "I'm not grouchy--why do people say that? Not everyone is a fucking cheerleader like Sigmund." He plucked a roll from the plate and blew on it lightly. Popping it into his mouth, he was satisfied that he'd managed the first bite. "Your body heals very quickly now. You'll be as good as new by tomorrow morning." The bones were already knitted, he imagined, but the pain and inflammation would linger.

KOHL: "Oh," Baby replied in response to this new information. He gingerly picked up a pizza roll and blew on it before taking a tentative bite. "What did I look like?" He asked once he'd finished the piece of food. It bothered him that he didn't remember much about the experience and probably would have thought that Pirate was making the whole thing up if his body didn't hurt so badly.

PIRATE: Pirate smirked at that question, having expected it to be the first thing out of Baby's mouth. "White, mostly. You're small, but you might get bigger as you get older. Maybe I'll stay a human next time and we can do a photoshoot."

KOHL: Kohl just kind of looked at him. "I won't try to hurt you?" He asked, taking another one of the pizza rolls. He was still entirely unsure of how all this worked. "And...when will it happen the next time?" He hoped not too soon since his body still hurt.

PIRATE: "I don't know, you might try to hurt me, but I'm not exactly worried." There was a bit of arrogance in his voice, and maybe it was founded, maybe not. He ate a few more rolls, munching contently as he pondered the best way to explain the answer to Baby's next question. "It comes when it wants. The first year is eradic."

KOHL: Baby stayed silent, finishing off the rest of his meal. He ate and ate and ate some more, more than he thought he could consume. Then he just looked over at Pirate, trying to figure out the strange connection he now felt with the other. He kind of felt covered in Pirate, most likely due to the tongue bath he'd been given and since forgotten, but whatever it was now was making the boy not want to be out of the older man's presence. "Can we finish the movie?" He remembered watching some of The Little Mermaid before.

PIRATE: Pirate quickly glanced around, as if he was scared someone else had magically appeared in the kitchen and could listen in. He was taking precautions in case the title of the movie was mentioned out loud. "All right." Because it sounded appealing, and he was very full at the moment and in desperate need of some more lounging.

KOHL: Kohl got up and took their plates over to the sink, washing them off and putting them in the dishwasher. He was used to picking up after himself at Jonathan and Kelsy's. Then he slowly headed for the stairs, hoping that no one else was around. He wasn't in the mood to talk to other people. "Do I have to stay here forever then?" He asked as they went up the stairs.

PIRATE: Pi was shocked to see Baby pick up. He'd been a demanding little fuck up to that point. But maybe the release of the shift had put him back to a better state. "No, you don't. Once you're under control you can leave. No one is forced to live here, but a lot of us like to be close to the pack." And the alpha. It was a little old fashioned, and Sigmund definitely ran a progressive pack, but he always left room for tradition.

KOHL: And Baby would still be a demanding little fuck later on but for now, all the fight had gone out of him as he struggled to come to terms with his new life. He just nodded and walked along next to Pirate until they reached the room and then he went right over and curled up on Pirate's bed.

PIRATE: Pirate looked annoyed at how comfortable Baby made himself, but really it just made him want to sit down next to him. After a second of staring, he gave up trying to resist and flicked the movie back on as he settled down next to him. His wolf had gotten a taste of the other, and it made Pirate look at the boy with more fondness.

KOHL: Baby scooted closer, his arm going back around Pirate's waist and he just buried his face in the man's chest. He probably wasn't going to end up seeing much of the movie. He was still tuckered out and his body still hurt and he just wanted to sleep it off.

PIRATE: Pirate allowed it, even resting his hand on Kohl's back. "It'll be all right, you know. You've made it through the hardest part." He wanted to encourage the other, though he wasn't the sort to coddle anyone.

KOHL: "Okay," Baby said, sighing a little. He closed his eyes and just took some comfort in Pirate's familiar scent. When he woke up, he would most likely be back to his usual demeanor of annoying little shit but for now, he was content to just drift back to sleep with the other's arm around him.

Malcolm, Fairfax, Shannon

Tue, 21 Oct 2008 01:36:33 GMT

MALCOLM: Malcolm had arranged to take Shannon out that evening. There was a lot for the boy to learn if he was going to survive, and he knew Fairfax wasn't going to have the know-how or the stomach to teach him. Fairfax was at work, and Malcolm simply let himself into the apartment to look for Shannon. "Did you run away?" He asked the darkness.

SHANNON: "No." The darkness responded. Shannon was sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest. He was starved but he was trying to ignore it as he sat there. Fairfax had gone to work and he'd been alone, hungry and scared and lonely. But Malcolm hadn't been the person he wanted to walk through the door.

MALCOLM: He smiled at the response, adjusting his eyes to the shadows and letting them lead to where Shannon was sitting. "You're starving." Malcolm said coldly, annoyed at the creature's hunger because it would make things more difficult. Still, there was no getting around their biology.

SHANNON: "I'm hungry." He said softly, lifting his head so that he could look up at Malcolm. He was still wearing his glasses, out of habit, he really didn't need them anymore. "I haven't fed yet." And it was already an hour or two into the night.

MALCOLM: Malcolm stood back a little to admire his own handiwork, and he had to stare good and long to decide whether or not those glasses pissed him off. Ultimately, he decided that they were fashionable and so they could stay. "Come on, I'm going to show you how to hunt. I can't be bringing people to you for the rest of your unlife. I'm not a fucking pizza boy."

SHANNON: "Hunt?" he asked, his voice sort of a squeak. It wasn't that he didn't want to live, but the idea of hunting and killing something so he could leave seemed so unfair. Granted, he supposed that he had always done that to animals with the food he ate, but this was different. It just was. Getting up, he made his way slowly over to Malcolm.

MALCOLM: As the boy got closer, he was able to smell the fae on him and it ran more deeply than just what happened when skin touched skin. His eyes narrowed and with lightening precision he grabbed Shannon's upper arm, fingernails digging into his skin. "Did he give you blood?"

SHANNON: Shannon let out a whimper and he frowned as he was grabbed. "Yes." But he didn't understand why that was such a big deal. The blood had actually kept him from going crazy with bloodlust because it had been so potent and rich.

MALCOLM: Malcolm grit his teeth so hard that he could feel the bones in his jaw crack ever so slightly. But it didn't matter, because he could hardly feel any pain. Releasing the boy, he turned with new resolve to make this whole experience as difficult as possible for him. "That was supposed to be mine." He muttered to himself. "We're going now." Louder, so that Shannon could hear it and would be compelled to follow outside.

SHANNON: "What was supposed to be yours?" Shannon didnt understand as he moved to follow after him as they walked outside. He kept his arms wrapped around his waist and he tried to ignore the fact that Malcolm seemed really pissed off now.

MALCOLM: "It's still mine." He relaxed his jaw, letting it heal itself quickly. "Just not the first taste of it." Which rubbed him the wrong way, but he was getting over it. As he walked, he decided to explain to Shannon exactly what he meant. "Fairfax's blood, fae blood, is a delicacy. Access to it was part of his price for you."

SHANNON: "Part of the price? For me? How is it different now that I have tasted him?" Because honestly he didn't see how it would make the blood any different than before. When they got outside he shivered a little bit even though he wasn't that cold. "Where are we going?"

MALCOLM: "Yes, so you wouldn't die. And you're right, it doesn't make it different; it's just the principle of the thing. You got it for free. I get to experiment with him too, though." He was infinitely proud of that, and he hoped it disturbed Shannon. "What do you like in another person? What makes them interesting to you?"

SHANNON: "Why are you going to do experiments on him?" Shannon asked him. "I wish that he wouldn't have asked you to do this. I dont' want him to let you experiment on him. Find someone else instead."

MALCOLM: "Too late now. Answer my questions." They were important to the task at hand and he folded his arms over his chest, stopping at an intersection, leaning back against the traffic light pole.

SHANNON: "I don't know. I like other people for what they have to say and if they are nice." He wasn't really sure. "What does this question have to do with anything, I want to talk about Fairfax."

MALCOLM: Malcolm sneered. "Do you want to fuck him?" Because that would answer his questions more accurately. If they had to find lanky, pretty boys, then that's what they were looking for and they could just get on with it.

SHANNON: That made him blush and he put his hands to his cheeks as he looked over at Malcolm. "I don't know." he'd never had sex with anyone so he didn't know what to say. "I just want to eat and then I will go back to Farifax's."

MALCOLM: Good enough. Malcolm's eyes had nothing but contempt for the boy right now and there was a hint of jealousy there. Not that he wanted Fairfax; he just knew he was never going to feel like that about anyone. "Some of us have preferences about who we'll drink from. It's usually better, more exciting, if you drink from someone who's attractive to you in some way. Then again, maybe that's just me." His lips curled into a bemused little smile.

SHANNON: "You are really creepy." Shannon muttered. When they kept on walking he started to get a little distracted by people walking by. All he could think about was the smell of their blood and the smell of their skin. "Who do you usually feed from? what attracts you?"

MALCOLM: "Fear, worry. You can smell it on them." Malcolm was unperturbed by the creepy comment, because it was the truth. "Fear is sharp, and worry tastes sweet." He shut his eyes to appreciate the recollection before turning his attention back to Shannon. "Pick someone."

SHANNON: "I don't want to just pick someone. Shouldnt' we ask? I mean, I can't just take blood from someone." That was all there was to it. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. "I don't want to do it without asking you know?"

MALCOLM: Malcolm stared at him blankly for a second before yelling. "Are you retarded?" A few people on the street looked over at them because of the outburst. Falling perfectly calm again, Malcolm sighed and put his hand on his face. "You can't ask. Come on." He picked someone out for him, a man in jeans, a t-shirt, and a denim jacket. From behind, he looked like Fairfax, brown messy hair, tall, awkward body.

SHANNON: Shannon was getting more and more upset as they got nearer and nearer to him feeding off of the stranger that Malcolm had just picked off of the street. The touch to his face had comforted him but only for a second. "Please Malcolm." He said softly, curling his fingers around the man's sleeve so he could try to tug him back.

MALCOLM: The please sparked anger in him, and he wheeled on Shannon. "Do you want to die? If you die, I'm still taking Fairfax." He grabbed Shannon by the shirt and tugged him in between the tall buildings. Thrusting him up against the wall, he snarled right in his face. "And trust me, he's going to scream, and cry, and if you're dead, it'll all be for nothing."

SHANNON: "How can you do this? How can you do this to him and to strangers that you don't even know?" he was getting stressed out and he tried to push Malcolm off of him. "You can't have him, you can't have Fairfax. It wasn't a fair deal."

MALCOLM: The pushing was futile. "He's not yours to say whether or not I can have him." He stared at Shannon, looking at each feature on his perfect face, liking the way the glasses highlighted his eyes. "I do this because it's how we survive. It's what we are."

SHANNON: "He is mine." Shannon said. "He's mine and you can't have him. I don't care if you kept me from dying from cancer, you still killed me, I'm still dead, so technically you didn't save me at all and you didn't make good on your end of the deal so you can't have him." He beat his fists uselessly against Malcolm's arms and chest, still pinned to the wall by the vampire's hand.

MALCOLM: Malcolm should have killed him then and there, but he was beginning to become fond of the boy. Releasing him, he waved his hands away. "Stop it." He was bored of this arguement. "Are you hungry, or not? You have to eat."

SHANNON: "I'll feed from Fairfax when he gets home." he said, knowign that that wouldn't make this situation any better. But he couldn't bring himself to just feed from a random. At least not just yet. He was hungry, starving, but there was nothing yet that would make him.

MALCOLM: The boy was infuriating. "Fine. You do that. Hopefully you don't kill him." He spun on his heel and stalked out of the alleyway, leaving Shannon there and going after the man he'd pegged from the beginning. If Shannon wasn't going to eat, at least he would.

SHANNON: Pushing away from the wall he went racing after Malcolm, keeping up with him like an annoying little shadow. When he got closer to the man that they picked Shannon ran around him and cut him off, stopping the man by his arm. "I think that you dropped your wallet back there." he motioned back behind them, back where the street was a little more crowded and he wouldn't be so easy to lure away.

MALCOLM: He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, finding Shannon's desire to preserve life very troublesome. The man looked at Shannon and smiled. "Did I? Hey, thanks." But when he turned to go back and get it, Malcolm was right behind him. "You'll have to forgive my little brother. He's a compulsive liar and a troublemaker."

SHANNON: "I am not." Well he was lying about the wallet but he was trying to save the man's life. "Go, just go." He tried to usher him on and away from Malcolm. "Run while you can!" He was going to push him and cause a scene if the man didn't get the hint and get out of there.

MALCOLM: Malcolm grabbed the man's hand, exhilerated by the shard of fear that had run itself across the man's brow, furrowing it. "Too late. You'll be quiet though." Malcolm forced the power of suggestion on the stranger, who found that his voice wouldn't work, something locking in his brain. Before Shannon could cause much more of a scene, Malcolm tugged the man away, enveloping shadows around them and sticking close to the cover of buildings.

SHANNON: Shannon followed after them, desperate to save the man from Malcolm's grasp. "No, stop." he whimpered, tugging at the back of Malcolm's shirt. If he had known what the scent of blood would do to him he would have stayed back out of the way, he would have waited for Malcolm at the end of the alley instead of following so closely behind.

MALCOLM: The stranger was panicking, hand clenched against Malcolm's hand and tears starting at the corners of his eyes. But he couldn't speak, couldn't fight. Malcolm, unable to wait any longer, pushed him onto the ground and pulled a hole in his throat. Blood sprayed with the beat of his heart until it slowed to a gush, and Malcolm drank for only a moment before pulling back and looking up at Shannon.

SHANNON: The second the blood hit the air Shannon's eyes dialated and he was no longer in control of himself. When Malcolm leaned back he dropped to his knees and buried his face into the man's neck. He sucked and lapped at the wound that the other vampire had created and then he just clamped his mouth around it, swallowing down every last bit of blood.

MALCOLM: The moment the man died, Malcolm could feel it and he smiled, utterly satisfied. "See? That wasn't so hard. Now when you feed from Fairfax, he'll be safe. Maybe you'll be able to stop yourself before it kills him."

SHANNON: It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough and Shannon was still hungry. He licked all the blood he could off of the man and then off of his own fingers. Then he went across the body knocking Malcom back as he covered the vampire's mouth with his own to get the blood of of Malcolm's face.

MALCOLM: Malcolmed groaned at the hungry force and instead of pushing him off, he twisted his fingers in the boy's shirt and bit down hard on his own tongue so that more blood welled to the surface. Pressing it between Shannon's lips, he let the other drink from him.

SHANNON: The blood was making hims desperate and he sucked at Malcolm's tongue. His own fangs grazed along the sides of his tongue and he couldn't tell who was bleeding anymore and who wasn't. Both of his hands slid up, holding Malcolm's face in his hands as he tilted his head back just enough to get his tongue further into the vampire's mouth.

MALCOLM: If he could love someone it would feel like this heady mix of lust and satisfaction. It was fleeting--it always was. But god it felt good while it was happening. Tugging him closer, he fucked his tongue into Shannon's mouth, tangling in the slickness and heat of his own blood. Half of it went right back down his own throat, so really he wasn't loosing all that much.

SHANNON: Shannon moaned, the noises quickly muffled by Malcolm's mouth. Both of his hands were bloody and they smeared it up along Malcolm's cheeks and into his hair as he grabbed two fistfuls to yank his head back a little. Shannon was running purely on instinct now, just wanting to get more blood. Needing more blood.

MALCOLM: He wanted Shannon covered in blood, submerged in it. Their connection allowed him to feel the level of hunger that Shannon still had, and it made him ache. At this moment, he didn't care--he just wanted to give Shannon all of the blood in his body because he knew he could survive it. He bit his own lip, the side of his cheek, opening more wounds for Shannon to take.

SHANNON: Shannon practically crawled over Malcolm and on top of him, straddling his body as he drank from him. When it felt like there was no more blood to be hand in his mouth he trailed his lips down the vampire's throat, looking for another place to bite, another wound to make for more blood.

MALCOLM: From somewhere deep inside of him, logic rose and he forcefully pushed Shannon away. "Stop. We need someone else." Another victim because Malcolm was getting weak. He managed to stand up, taking a cloth from his pocket and wiping the blood from his face.

SHANNON: It took everything Shannon had to stop himself from flat out attacking Malcolm. He stayed on his knees, his breathing ragged even though he really didn't need to breathe anymoer at all. He hadn't broken himself of the habit just yet.

MALCOLM: Glancing down at himself, he was thankful his jacket was black, because he was sure it was covered in blood. "Stay here. Stay, and I'll go get someone else." He knelt back down, grabbing Shannon by the shoulders. "Promise me you'll stay here." Because it was far too dangerous for the other to go with him right then.

SHANNON: "I'll stay." Shannon was going to stay with the body. He was a little dazed but he thought maybe he could get more blood of of it and if Malcolm said he was bringing someone back then he'd stay.

MALCOLM: It took Malcolm longer than he'd expected, his own wooziness making it more difficult to lure someone back to the alley. He felt blown apart, and blindsided by this experience, and it was something new. Malcolm always longed for something new, interesting, and he was enjoying this utterly. The man he brought back was older, someone who looked important but sinister.

SHANNON: This time Shannon didn't wait for Malcolm to take the first bite. The minute the man was in the alley Shannon was on him, dragging him down so that he could feed off of him. He damn near snappedh is neck but he did shred his throat. He gulped the blood down, swallowing as much as he could get into his mouth.

MALCOLM: Malcolm took a few drinks from the man's wrist, not waiting for Shannon to be done. He needed just a little to keep him going until he got home. Before Shannon was done, Malcolm scooted himself back to sit against a dumpster, falling perfectly still as he watched. There was no finnesse to Shannon just then, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he learned.

SHANNON: Shannon drank and drank until there was nothing left and then he finally started to calm down. Once his stomach was full and he felt a little more like himself he looked up and over at Malcolm. His face was stained with blood and his eyes had gone from black back to brown though it was hard to tell in the darkness. "I want to go home."

MALCOLM: Malcolm hated that Shannon didn't magically come around, buying into the whole vampire lifestyle. He thought for sure if he could get the boy to really slake his bloodlust just once, then there would be no going back. Then again, maybe it would just take longer. He reached down and grabbed his hand, dragging him upward with ease and using the handkerchief in his pocket to clean the boy up a little. "Fine, have it your way." He took him back to Fairfax's apartment and left him there for the fae to get home.
------------------------------------------

SHANNON: When Malcolm left him, Shannon took a shower to wash all the blood off and he dumped his clothes into the wash and just poured in some detergent, though he had no idea what settings to use or how much soap. Once he had it in the wash he looked around for something to wear and ended up in a pair of teal scrubs. He crawled into Fairfax's bed then and pulled the blankets up over him. He'd killed two people that night. Three in two days. He felt like a monster.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax got home a few hours later, not much night left. Still, he figured he had a little bit of time to talk to Shannon until they both went to sleep. Shutting the door behind him, he heard the little portable washing machine running. "Shannon?"

SHANNON: At first Shannon didn't reply. Instead he tucked himself into a tighter little ball. "Im in here." He called out softly from the bedroom to let him know that it was where he was.

FAIRFAX: He hadn't expected to come home to an unhappy Shannon. Malcolm had told him he was going to take him to The Island, a club that catered to humans, but had a back room for those other creatures who frequented the place. Everything was concentual, and no killing had to be done. "How did it go?" He shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the chair before going into the bedroom and sitting down on the bed.

SHANNON: "I killed two people tonight. They died alone in an alley." Shannon didn't even turn over to look at Fairfax. "You sold your body to Malcolm and he is going to hurt you, for this. For me to be a murderer."

FAIRFAX: Making a deal with Malcolm had been a bad idea, but Fairfax couldn't dwell on that, or he'd drive himself to insanity. "You're not a human anymore. It's not murder; it's surviving. But he told me he was going to take you to a club where you could drink from people who know. I'm sorry."

SHANNON: "Even if I die now you still have to go to him." He said, frowning to himself since he refused to look at Fairfax. The only reason he hadn't taken a walk into the sun was because of Fairfax. "Does this make you happy? Was it worth it?"

FAIRFAX: Fairfax, determined, laid down next to Shannon, even though the other was under the covers and he was on top of them. Putting his arm over the lump of sheets, he exhaled warm breath into the fabric. "Yes. Even just for this right now, it's worth it."

SHANNON: That made Shannon want to cry and he turned over under the covers. He had to push the blanket down so he could get his arm around Fairfax. He put his head against his shoulder and closed his eyes, just needing to be close to him.

FAIRFAX: "I'll take you to that place tomorrow night. I have a friend there and she can help us." Not get away from Malcolm, but perhaps to make Shannon not so dependent on him for the knowledge of his kind. "You don't have to kill anyone else, I promise." He spoke into the boy's neck.

SHANNON: "Okay." He said softly, his hand settling onto Fairfax's back so he could hold onto him. "He wants to hurt you. He is going to hurt you really badly. I don't want you to go to him. I don't want him to experiment on you."

FAIRFAX: Shaking his head, Fairfax pulled back to be able to look Shannon in the eye. "You don't have to worry about that part. I can take care of myself." His spidery hand rested on Shannon's cheek, thinking he looked so beautiful that it was unreal. "Can I kiss you?" He asked suddenly.

SHANNON: The question caught him off guard and he opened his mouth to reply but just nodded instead. He hadn't ever been kissed before tonight and he supposed what he had shared with Malcolm didn't even count because he'd just wanted the blood.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax moved slowly because in the back of his mind, he feared this was just one of his dreams, or some illusion he'd created for himself and he didn't want to break it apart. When his warm lips pressed to the cold ones, it was hesitant at first, but the pressure increased as Fairfax relaxed into it and was convinced it was real.

SHANNON: Shannon kissed him softly and let his fingers trail up the back of Fairfax's neck and into his hair. He kept the kiss light, chaste, because he knew if he opened his mouth he'd cut himself or Fairfax with his fangs.

FAIRFAX: He realized he would have died for this, just this. But the best part was, he didn't have to. He tried not to think about how many other people had died just for this. "I'm really glad I met you." He whispered against Shannon's mouth.

SHANNON: "I am glad you met me too." But not because it kept him from dying. Only because he had been happy the few days he'd gotten to spend with him and now he was the only reason Shannon was still around.

FAIRFAX: Thinking that meant things were cured, and Shannon was happy again, Fairfax ran his tongue along the other's bottom lip, pressing at it, wanting more of a kiss. He didn't care about the teeth, though he wasn't thinking about them at the moment.

SHANNON: Opening his mouth for Fairfax, Shannon concentrated really hard on not biting him. Without even realizing it his fangs retracted, sliding back neatly so they were out of the way and not anywhere that would cause the kiss to turn bloody.

FAIRFAX: When he didn't run into anything sharp, his tongue pressed farther inside, exploring. Still, everything was slow. Fairfax moved his hand to slide down Shannon's side, slipping under the covers and pulling them down farther. The kiss brought from him the quietest of sounds, but a whimper nonetheless.

SHANNON: Shannon could hear it and he liked it. Scooting in closer to him, he wrapped his arm tighter around his waist and pressed his body to Fairfax's.

FAIRFAX: The level of happiness Fairfax was giving off was astronomical, and he started to let down all of his barriers. He was radiating a smudge of golden glow and when he tugged back from Shannon, it blended perfectly with the moon-white paleness coming from the other. He was grinning and smoothed his hand over Shannon's hair.

SHANNON: In all the rush of emotions for the moment he couldn't even breathe but it didn't matter now. He just looked up at Fairfax and he gave him a small smile before tipping his head back to kiss him again.

FAIRFAX: He could have stayed like this forever, but morning was on its way and the curtains were open. Melting into the kiss for as long as he thought was prudent, Fairfax finally got up from the bed to close the blinds and plunge the room into a darkness that was only illuminated by the faint warmth still lingering on his skin.

SHANNON: "Will you stay with me?" he asked softly. "Im afraid to be alone." Afraid to sleep because he didn't think that he would be able to wake up again. It would be nice to just be able to sleep in the comfort of the other man's arms.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax seemed to glow even more at the answer and he threatened to bust out of his skin. "Yes, of course I will." Going to shut the door, he let it click softly before going back to the bed. Tugging off his shirt and work pants, he was left only in boxers. "And I don't have to go to work tomorrow, so we'll be together all night. We'll leave before Malcolm comes to find us." Even if that would piss the other off.

SHANNON: "Okay." Shannon said softly. "Thank you." He wrapped his arms around Fairfax again once he was laying down and he nuzzled his head against his shoulder. "Thank you for everything. I know I seem ungrateful... this is just very hard."

FAIRFAX: Skin to skin made it even more difficult for Fairfax to concentrate on anything but the sensation of contentment coming from him. Shutting his eyes, he shook his head. "You don't seem ungrateful. I was rash and desperate. But if there was no other way, I'd do it again." And there hadn't been time.

SHANNON: "Are there other things aside from vampires and what you are?" he didn't fully understand it. "Couldn't you have turned me into something like you?"

FAIRFAX: Fairfax nodded. "There are other things. Lots of things that live for a long time, but I didn't know any." And he certainly didn't know how to bargain with them, or if Shannon becoming a werecreature would have even cured what was wrong with him. "But you can't turn someone into my kind. We're just born this way. Some of our parents keep us, others abandon us, and some just adopt us out." He laughed a little at his interpretation of the last method of raising a fae child.

SHANNON: Shannon didn't understand what that meant but he didn't ask. Instead he squeezed Fairfax. "I wish I was like you instead of like me. You are warm and bright. I feel cold and very dark." But Fairfax made him warm. "What if I had never met you?"

FAIRFAX: "Maybe Malcolm would have gotten you anyway. You're his type, you know." Fairfax had always been a strange kind of friend with Malcolm. When they'd met Mal had been good to him, trying to lure him into a bond that was beneficial only to Mal. Fairfax, however, had stuck with him even when his true colors had started to show.

SHANNON: "What is his type." He didn't understand exactly what Fairfax meant by that. "The type that is already dying?" he brushed his thumb along the back of his neck, touching him softly.

FAIRFAX: He laughed a little. "No, sweet-faced, angelic, kind, beautiful, perfect." It was clear just how infatuated he was with Shannon. "And I think the cold and dark suits you. You're like winter, with Christmas right in the middle."

SHANNON: That made him smile and he wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders. "Malcolm is not very nice to me." Not very nice to anyone in general it seemed. "How did you meet him?"

FAIRFAX: "At the hospital. He was very handsome and very nice. I knew he was a vampire and--I guess I liked him so much because he knew what I was and I didn't have to hide anything from him." It had been like when he met Shannon, how the boy had looked at him and really saw him. Maybe it had something to do with being so close to death.

SHANNON: "Why was he at the hospital?" it seemed like an odd place to be for a vampire. Then again it wasn't like Shannon knew very much about being a vampire. "I think that i fell in love with you when I saw you." Which was kind of strange but in a way he felt like that. "It was like a pull. Maybe not love but do you know what I mean?"

FAIRFAX: "He told me it was because he didn't like to kill people so he worked there to steal blood from the reserves." Fairfax pursed his lips because it was stupid to have believed that knowing what he knew now. When Shannon said that he'd felt the pull, Fairfax looked a little disappointed. "It's just the fae thing. Most humans are fascinated with us if we're not careful."

SHANNON: "But I still feel it." He said softly. "When you kissed me it was the strongest." Shannon hadn't been fae struck. More so just smitten by the fact that someone would pay him the least bit of attention. The smile that Fairfax had given him was enough.

FAIRFAX: Drawing his eyes back up to Shannon's, Fairfax looked relieved and he felt his heart give a few strong thuds in his chest. "Yeah?" He stared hard at Shannon, wanting to memorize everything about his face, every little detail so that when Malcolm came to collect, he'd be able to think about the way Shannon looked just then.

SHANNON: "I still feel it. I can't stop thinking about you when you aren't here." And the kiss, well... he was keeping himself in control for the moment but he wanted more.

FAIRFAX: "Well don't lose it, because we've got all the time in the world." And for that, he was thankful. Fairfax didn't think about things like getting bored of Shannon, or Shannon getting bored of him. Eternity wasn't really too long to spend with someone so fascinating. Or at least, it didn't seem like it now.

SHANNON: Leaning in, he pressed another kiss against Fairfax's mouth. It was soft and he nipped his bottom lip gently, careful not to go too far.

FAIRFAX: "I liked it when you drank from me." Because he felt the holding back. It was probably a good idea, but he still wanted Shannon to know that he'd liked it very much.

SHANNON: "Can I again? I fed a lot tonight so I think I can hold it back. I won't hurt you." He didn't want to hurt him but he was pretty sure he could do it without hurting him.

FAIRFAX: "Please?" He'd been obsessing over it all night at work, sometimes standing for long moments and imagining the sensations it had caused.

SHANNON: The made Shannon smile and his fangs elongated because he knew he was going to be able to feed. It surprised him a little and he swept his tongue over them. "How did they do that?"

FAIRFAX: Fairfax laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you're learning." Maybe they didn't need Malcolm to teach him how to be a vampire. That was relieving because everytime Shannon went out with him, Fairfax was terrified.

SHANNON: "Where should I feel from?" he didn't know what all of the places that he could feed from. "Like last night?" from his throat.

FAIRFAX: Blood rushed to Fairfax's cheeks when he thought of the places he'd like to have Shannon's mouth. "Wherever you want." His voice went reedy from anticipation and he couldn't help but kiss at Shannon's chin.

SHANNON: "I don't know what all of the options are. You tell me and then I will pick one." The blush brought his blood to the surface and Shannon breathed it in slowly.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax laughed. "No one's ever fed from me but you, I don't know the options." He thought about it. "Let's be logical, where are the pulses? Throat, wrist, crook of the arm, crook of the hip. I'll bet you could make me bleed anywhere, Shannon."

SHANNON: The idea of being able to feed from anywhere made him a little heady with excitement. "What about right here." His hand settled between Fairfax's thighs and he rubbed his fingers over the femoral artery.

FAIRFAX: If his voice was reedy before it was a complete whisp now. "Yes." It was only a step above begging. "There." Because that's where he'd wanted Shannon to ask for.

SHANNON: "Okay then I choose there." He said softly, leaning in to press another kiss to his mouth. "Roll over onto your back?" so he could slide down and feed from thr place he had wanted to.

FAIRFAX: He was actually nervous, and he wondered if this was what humans felt like about love, or sex, or whatever this happened to be. Shifting onto his back, he sat up on his elbows so he could look down the length of himself, curious how Shannon would go about it.

SHANNON: Shanon turned over and started to scoot his way down the bed. When he settled himself between the other man's knees, he hitched Fairfax's knee up and nudged it to the side so he could press a kiss to vhis thigh.

FAIRFAX: Loose boxer-legs riding easily up, Fairfax bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise. It was going to hurt at first, he knew that because it had hurt when Shannon had fed from his wrist the first time. But he looked in a trance, heart beating fast in his chest, echoing in his head.

SHANNON: Shannon kissed the inside of his thigh again and opened his mouth to sink his fangs into his flesh. It was just long enough to make the puncture and then he locked his mouth around the wound to start feeding. The blood was like drugs to him, so potent and intoxicaitng.

FAIRFAX: Having just a moment to wonder if Shannon had to concentrate to make it feel this good, Fairfax was quickly lost in the pain turned thick with warmth. Fingers digging into the covers beneath him, Fairfax pushed his hips upward, the movement causing blood to rush faster to the surface with the working of his muscles.

SHANNON: When he lifted his hips it made Shannon moan and he ran his hands up the sides of his legs. He was eager to make Fairfax feel good because he was almost drunk off of his blood. When he thought maybe he was taking too much he pulled back, tonguing the wound he had made until it closed.

FAIRFAX: Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, Fairfax drug in long deep breaths. Shannon hadn't taken all that much, but he was pretty sure those two people had died happy tonight, because Fairfax wanted nothing more than for Shannon to drain him completely. As the effects wore off though, he came to his senses and just smiled. "God," was all he could say.

SHANNON: As his fangs started to retract, he kissed his way up along the inside of Fairfax's thigh and up along his hip. He nipped gently at his hipbone, just using his regular teeth. He licked gently over the bone and nipped again before just laying his head down against Fairfax's belly.

FAIRFAX: His hand went immediately to tangle in Shannon's hair. "I felt a pull too, you know. And you were just a boy then, just a human."

SHANNON: "Does that mean that the pull is even stronger now? Now that I am more?" He brushed his thumb along Fairfax's hip, and he sighed softly. "Your skin is so soft."

FAIRFAX: Fairfax hesitated to answer, turning his focus inward so he could give an accurate response. "It's the same," he said finally. He'd been obsesed with Shannon before, and he still was--it just tok on a different form.

SHANNON: Shanon crawled back up his body slowly and he wrapped his arms around his neck as he settled on top of him. "Can I sleep right here." Right on top of him like this. "If I get heavy when I sleep you can shove me off."

FAIRFAX: "Yes, this is exactly where I want you to sleep." He was shimmering with satisfaction, the features of his face growing even more distinct. There was no way Shannon could get too close, or too heavy for Fairfax. His hands slunk around to rest on the small of his back.

SHANNON: "I'm so tired." he murmured softly. "I can feel the sun coming up." And it was pulling him slowly into sleep. He sighed softly as he trailed his fingers up and down the boy's side. "Goodnight Fairfax."

FAIRFAX: Fairfax would stay awake just a bit longer after that, liking to watch Shannon sleep, even though this sort of sleep was dangerously close to dead. Finally, he drifted off as well, settling in beneath the vampire.

Sigmund, Brennan

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 17:51:32 GMT

SIGMUND: Sigmund hadn't heard anything new about the archive manager position. Rumor had it that hiring had been done recently and when Sigmund came back from his dinner break to finish up some paperwork, he was thinking about Brennan. That wasn't particularly out of the ordinary for the last few days though. Since he'd met the kid, he'd been interested by his careless, indecisive attitude. Stopping by the front desk, he chatted with Sandra, the receptionist for a little while.

BRENNAN: Surprisingly, it hadn't taken very long for Brennan to get the job. His manager at the smoothie place had been less than thrilled when Brennan announced his plan to leave but definitely couldn't offer him the $ an hour that the paper was going to give him. He'd been hard at work in the archive department for the past four hours and decided to take his lunch break, nevermind the fact that it was nine at night. As he passed by the receptionist desk on the way to the break room, he saw Sigmund there and gave him a shy little wave before he even realized what he was doing.

SIGMUND: Doing a bit of a double-take, Sigmund registered Brennan's presence and unfortunately, the receptionist was rather unceremoniously passed off mid-sentence. "Surly you're not here for an interview at," he looked at his watch. "Nine o'clock at night?" And if that wasn't the case, then Brennan must have already gotten the job. It pleased him more than even he'd expected.

BRENNAN: "I um...sort of called that day I met you and interviewed the next day," Brennan admitted, fighting to keep the light blush off his cheeks. Why was it that he always seemed to be blushing around Sigmund? He ran a hand through his hair to push his bangs out of his face. "I started yesterday," he added. The best part of the job was that his schedule was - most days and that he had plenty of time for class and homework earlier in the day.

SIGMUND: He laughed at the fact that Brennan had been so eager to get the job. It was probably the pay, but it didn't hurt to think maybe the kid had liked him enough to take his advice, even if it seemed begrudging at the time. Leaning casually against the receptionist's desk, who was glaring at his back just a little, Sigmund tried to be as cool as humanly possible. Still, when he moved back slightly, he knocked a can of pens over onto the floor. So much for werewolf prowess. "Well that's great." About the job, he meant, as he bent down to pick up the scattered pens.

BRENNAN: Brennan had been about to open his mouth to say something else, what exactly he wasn't sure, when he noticed the receptionist's glare toward Sigmund's back. He hadn't meant to intrude on the conversation, but just as he was about to apologize and make for the break room, the pens went scattering all over the floor. Without even thinking, he quickly dropping to his knees to pick up the ones that had rolled across the floor to where he was standing. "Oh, shit. Here you go," he said, scrambling to get most of them for Sigmund. He felt bad for being somewhat of a douche to him and was really very thankful for the tip about the job.

SIGMUND: Sigmund was quick, and gathered the pens, taking the ones from Brennan as well. "Thanks." He wasn't the sort to blush, but a sheepish expression rushed to his eyes and lingered against his mouth as he stood back up. Setting the cup back on Sandra's desk, Sigmund gestured in the direction Brennan had been heading. "Where are you off to?"

BRENNAN: "Oh, me?" Brennan asked, getting to his feet again. "Just...the break room, you know," he pointed down the hall. "I haven't eaten since breakfast and I brought a sandwich with me so..." he trailed off, taking a few slow steps in that direction. He didn't expect Sigmund to come with him just because he sort of knew him. In fact, he really wasn't sure he wanted to from the way Sandra's eyes were boring 'kill' holes into the center of his chest at the moment.

SIGMUND: Lying wasn't Sigmund's thing, but fibbing didn't really hurt. Glancing at the clock, he held up his hands. "Hey, I could use a snack break, I'll go with you." Sandra started to open her mouth to inform both of them that Sigmund had just returned from dinner, but Sigmund coughed loudly and ushered Brennan out of hearing range. "So, like it so far?"

BRENNAN: Surprised to see Sigmund following after him, Brennan couldn't help the tiny smile that spread over his face. "I really do," he nodded, pushing open the door to the break room. "It's so much more...interesting, than smoothies," he said, heading over to the refrigerator to grab his sandwich and can of soda he'd brought from home. "I don't know if all of my coworkers like me though. Most of them are a older than me and well..." He was only and the four other people in his department were a little affronted that some punk kid was their manager just because he had more computer skills.

SIGMUND: "Reggie's face always looks like that." Sigmund commented, partially making a joke, and partially telling the honest to God truth about Reggie's squinty-eyed look of perpetual grouchiness. With a werewolf's appetite, he could always eat, so he pumped a few quarters into the snack machine and got out a pack of Oreos. Sitting down at one of the little tables, Sigmund waited to pull open the bag so that he could take a moment to breathe in the smells lingering on Brennan's clothes. The cold of the fridge interfered with many of the scents on the sandwich and soda, but Brennan himself was rife with information.

BRENNAN: "Does it?" Brennan laughed, bringing his food to sit over at the table. He opened the sandwich and took a really big bite. He was starving, not having eaten since early that morning. "Do you know everybody who works here?" He asked, popping open the top on his soda. "How long have you worked here?" He didn't exactly know why he was so chatty with Sigmund at the moment but he guessed it was better to be asking the questions than having to answer them. And he knew Sigmund was a question asker.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had to respect that size of a bite, he really did. "Well, I thought I knew everyone who worked here, but since I didn't even know you'd been hired, I guess I can't say that anymore." Who knew how many people they'd snuck in under his nose. Tearing open the bag, he popped a whole Oreo in his mouth, not wasting the time to break it in half and eat it the classic way. "And I've been here about twelve years."

BRENNAN: "Wow twelve years? Twelve years ago I was...eight," Brennan replied before realizing what had just come out of his mouth. He'd either just called Sigmund very old or himself very young and as his cheeks went red again, he stuffed another bite of sandwich into his mouth as he let his bangs swing down to cover his eyes again.

SIGMUND: Well that was a bit of a wakeup call, but he refused to lower his eyes from the math hanging between them. Still, he felt the discomfort build in his limbs, forcing them to move a little. "Yeah, well I'll be forty in a couple months, so twelve years isn't all that long. But whippersnappers like you can't be helped--I've learned to deal with it." No, he would not think about how that made Brennan only a year older than his little brother, who often times felt more like a son.

BRENNAN: "I'm not a whippersnapper," Brennan snorted, almost choking on the sip of coke in his mouth. "You want me to start calling you grandpa or something?" He teased, finishing off the rest of his sandwich in one bite. He was still hungry but it couldn't be helped. There was only so much in the budget for groceries.

SIGMUND: Sigmund did his best, but he couldn't hide the wince that went along with that word. "Oh god, no. Forty is the new thirty." So they said, though he'd rather it be the new twenty considering the situation he was in right now. Glancing down at the rest of his cookies, he held them up, offering them to Brennan with a raise of his eyebrows.

BRENNAN: "Oh...is that what they're saying now?" Brennan laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated. It was a text from his girlfriend and when he read it, he looked rather annoyed and just shoved it back in his pocket without replying. Then he noticed Sigmund was offering the cookies. "You don't want them?" He asked hesitantly, forcing himself to be polite even though he wanted to snatch them up directly. Oreos were his favorite cookie.

SIGMUND: "No, actually I just had my dinner break, that's what Sandra was desperately trying to tell you while I was pushing you down the hall." He didn't know why he'd come clean about that, but it wasn't an earth shattering lie. People took extra breaks all the time, and he'd wanted to chat with Brennan. He pushed the cookies across the table.

BRENNAN: "Oh..." Brennan nodded, downing two of the cookies before looking up at Sigmund, realizing what he'd said. "So...why did you come down here with me?" He asked, raising his own eyebrow in a confused manner. For all of Brennan's maturity that came with living alone and going to school full time and working an almost full time job, he could still be horribly naive at times, especially because he had never considered looking at men in any way other than as friends.

SIGMUND: That was a good question, and Sigmund had to think it over. There was the perfectly honest answer, and then there was the answer he'd allow himself to believe. Finally, there was the answer he was going to give Brennan. "Because I wanted to see how you were settling in. I'm going to be one of those annoying coworkers who tries to befriend you and bribes you with cookies."

BRENNAN: "Is that like the ice cream man who bribes the little kids with popsicles?" Brennan teased, nudging Sigmund's foot with his own under the table in a joking manner. "Just teasin," he said, polishing off the other cookies before reaching for his soda to wash it down. "Oh...and what are you bribing me to do, exactly?" He asked.

SIGMUND: Right. Brennan was absolutely right. This was a bad idea, for more than just the age difference, Brennan wasn't a werewolf, afterall. Not that all werewolves had to pair off with other supernatural beings. And Brennan didn't exactly scream gay to boot. Smiling, although the expression seemed a little forced at this point, Sigmund stood up. "Oh, I don't know. Put all of my articles on the front page in archives so at least I'm remembered as a headliner?"

BRENNAN: "Oh, is that what you want?" Brennan grinned, getting up to throw his trash away. "Some fame for when your grandkids google you?" He teased, draining the rest of his soda from the can before tossing it into the recycling. Glancing up at the clock, he noted the time. "I'm so glad I don't have class tomorrow," he smiled. That meant he could actually go out and do something after work, not that he had a huge social life. His girlfriend lived about two hours away and most of his other friends just liked to party and drink a lot.

SIGMUND: "Yeah? Any plans?" The mention of no class begged the question, and Sigmund wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. Even if his brain had decided firmly against whatever plan it had wanted to hatch to spend more time with Brennan, his behavior was still gearing in that direction. Who knew when, or if it would stop. Maybe Sigmund would just run on autopilot until a very inopportune moment when he woke up from his little fantasy and fled the scene.

BRENNAN: "No, no plans," Brennan shook his head. "I don't really do anything aside from school or work. My girlfriend goes to State so...kinda far to hang out except on the weekends, you know?" He shifted from foot to foot before heading for the door. "I better get back to work, man. Thank you for the cookies...and the job," he said, even though Sigmund hadn't been the one who hired him.

SIGMUND: There was his answer, though he hadn't even asked himself the question yet. Girlfriend. Lifting up his hand in a casual wave, Sigmund nodded a non-descript, friendly 'welcome.' It was definitely for the best anyway, he thought to himself, turning back to the snack machine to get some chips to take back to his desk.

BRENNAN: "Can I buy you a drink as thanks?" Brennan asked, paused in the doorway. Sure, he was only twenty but what college kid worth his salt didn't have a fake ID these days? He shifted from foot to foot again, waiting for Sigmund's response. "Don't worry. I'm not one of those irresponsible drunken frat dudes. I don't drink that much, really." He didnt want the older man to think he expected him to go out and get sloshed with him after work.

SIGMUND: Connection between logical brain and behavior having not quite been reestablished yet, Sigmund nodded. "Sure. I'd like that." He blinked; it'd been a long time since he'd felt so out of control of his own actions, and of a situation. Not even questioning the underage part, he simply accepted the fact that if Brennan said he could do it, he could. "My office is on the second floor."

BRENNAN: "Okay then," Brennan smiled, giving him another wave. "I get off at eleven," he told Sigmund, starting to head out the door but then he paused again. "When do you get off?" He asked, cocking his head to the side to force his bangs to swoosh out of his eyes.

SIGMUND: "I'm here until I want to leave. I've got enough work to keep me busy until then though." Yeah, he was waiting around for nearly two hours for some under twenty-one year old to take him for a drink. Great. One with a girlfriend too. It didn't mean anything; he just wanted to be friends. "Come up and get me when you're done, all right?"

BRENNAN: "I will. For sure, man," Brennan grinned, giving Sigmund one last wave before heading back up to archives. He spent the last hour and a half of work finishing up an issue he'd been working on earlier but thoughts of Sigmund were never far from his mind. He told himself it was because the man had gotten him the job and because he was really the only one he knew here and just attempted to focus on his work.

SIGMUND: Sigmund was completely useless back at his desk. The first few minutes were spent trying to sculpt a tower out of the paperclip magnet bobble someone had bought him for Christmas the year before. The next hour was spent staring at his computer screen, moving the mouse whenever the screensaver kicked on. Every ten minutes or so, he glanced at the Felix the Cat clock on the wall, tail twitching back and forth as its big googly eyes ticked away the seconds. When eleven rolled around, Sigmund started shutting down his computer.

BRENNAN: Brennan was out of his office at and on his way to the second floor after a bathroom stop before the clock hit . He wasn't quite sure which office was Sigmund's, so he just walked along until he found the one with the older man's name on the outside. Knocking on the door, he stepped back and waited, telling himself that he really shouldn't be so excited to hang out with him.

SIGMUND: The door swung open from the force of Brennan's knock, having been unlatched but shut. Sigmund looked up and couldn't help but smile brightly at him, too brightly. Slipping on his jacket, he stepped around his desk, sliding his cell phone into his coat pocket. "Ready?" Because he definitely was and had been itching to get out of that office since he'd walked back into it.

BRENNAN: "Yeah, totally," Brennan smiled, kind of taken aback by the door opening on its own. "Do you have a favorite spot?" He asked, not really knowing the area very well down by the paper office. "I live up by the school and I'm pretty sure you don't want to go hang out in a bunch of college spots, Gramps," he teased a little, still thinking about the Whippersnapper comment earlier.

SIGMUND: "Okay, that right there? Definitely going to have to stop. I promise to never call you a whippersnapper, a youngun, or a kiddo so long as you promise never to call me any derivation of grandfather." After a second, he shut the office door behind him. "There's a nursing home up the street, they have margaritas on Wednesdays."

BRENNAN: That made Brennan laugh and he held up his hands. "Sorry, sorry," he grinned. "I can see I touched a nerve there." He laughed even harder when Sigmund made the nursing home joke, glad to see that he hadn't actually been offended. "I do like margaritas," he added. "Tequila is my favorite."

SIGMUND: "El Sombrero then." It was a Mexican restaurant with a bar in the back. They really did have the best margaritas in town and Sigmund could have gone for some chips right then. "We can walk up there." It wasn't far, and though the evening was a bit cool, it wasn't too cold to walk.

BRENNAN: "Okay," Brennan smiled, heading out toward the stairs with Sigmund. He conveniently decided to forget about the fact that tequila usually made him pretty riled up and instead mentally ran through how much cash he had in his wallet. Probably enough for two drinks each, by his calculations. He could spare it so long as he walked to class next week instead of driving. Once he got his first paycheck from the paper though, things wouldn't be as tight.

SIGMUND: As promised, the walk was short, and the place wasn't very busy. Picking a table instead of sitting at the bar, Sigmund naturally took the lead in getting them situated. He ordered a peach margarita, admittedly a slightly girlie drink, but Sigmund was the sort of man who could order girlie drinks and still come off as pretty tough--sort of.

BRENNAN: Brennan ordered a regular margarita on the rocks and showed the waiter his ID when he asked. Reaching forward to snag a couple of the complimentary chips, he looked over at Sigmund. "So..." he said, smiling a little.

SIGMUND: On the rocks. Sigmund looked a little impressed. "So..." He repeated, and then took that as an opportunity to ask a question. "Girlfriend. How's that going?" That's what guys talked about, right? Chicks. Sigmund had never really been all that in to women, though a few had been in to him, Sandra, the receptionist for one.

BRENNAN: "Oh...you know," Brennan shrugged. "We've been together about a year. She did her undergrad here last year and now she's at State for graduate work." Every other guy usually looked impressed when they found out that Brennan had scored an 'older woman' and he looked to Sigmund to see how he might react. "What about you? Got a girlfriend?" A glance at his ring finger told Brennan there was at least no wife in the picture.

SIGMUND: About a year was a long time to Sigmund. His longest relationship had lasted two months and the pack had thought it was a sign of the apocalypse. His face didn't give anything away though, except more curiosity about the other. He wanted to know every little bit about him. "Too bad you can't see each other more often." Though he didn't really sound like he thought it was all that bad. "And no, no girlfriend, no boyfriend. I'm notoriously single."

BRENNAN: No boyfriend. That was odd to Brennan. Sure, he had gay friends but he hadn't ever pictured Sigmund dating a man...not that he'd really pictured him dating a woman either. "Oh, well...yeah," he shrugged, eating another chip. "I always was too, you know? Never dated anyone in highschool or the first year or so of college really. She was my first...girlfriend," he added quickly, not wanting Sigmund to think he meant first sexual partner but really yes, it was true. Personally, Brennan found sex to be pretty overrated for as much as his friends talked it up. He never really wanted it that bad in between times of seeing Jenny and when they were together, sure it was nice enough, but Brennan could take it or leave it.

SIGMUND: Sigmund laughed a little, catching and interpreting that pause between 'first' and 'girlfriend' exactly for the reason it'd been made. When the waitress brought over their drinks, Sigmund was relieved, happy to have something else to occupy him because his hands were getting tired of shoving chips in his mouth. "Your first and you've lasted nearly a year? Congrats."

BRENNAN: What Brennan wasn't aware of was that Jenny had quite the torrid love affair going with one of her female professors at school and that he was only still around to please her conservative parents. "Yeah...almost a year," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Her mom keeps asking when we're going to get married and that kind of freaks me out though," he admitted, taking a long drink of his margarita.

SIGMUND: "Is it her, or is marriage just scary?" Sigmund thought the idea of marriage was terrifying. He hadn't found anyone with an even remote potential for mate-status. Sipping at his drink, Sigmund pushed the straw around in the blended liquid. "Twenty is way too young for nuptuals, I think. How old is she?"

BRENNAN: "Oh...I don't know," Brennan shrugged again, taking another sip of his margarita. "You're right...twenty is too young. I don't even know what I'm doing with myself. Probably shouldn't be getting married then, you know?" He reached for another chip and then looked at Sigmund again. "I'm just a kid."

SIGMUND: "I wouldn't go that far." To call Brennan a kid, even though he knew it was true. "I have a brother about your age, Logan. I think he's found 'the one'" Sigmund made air quotes around that, not mocking, but noting the phrase's importance. "Everyone's different. When the right person comes along, I guess that's when you're old enough."

BRENNAN: "You have a brother my age?" Brennan grinned, swirling his drink to make the ice cubes clink against the glass. "How does he know he's found 'the one?'" He took a sip and put his drink down. "How does he know he's in love?" Brennan had never been sure if he was in love with Jenny.

SIGMUND: Sigmund liked that sound, and he took a second to appreciate it. He couldn't imagine being human and not being able to experience the world the way his enhanced senses allowed him to. "I do. And he's known the guy forever, maybe it was just a time thing. I've never actually asked him that question, so I don't know." But it was clear from the way Logan talked about Jesse, and how fiercly he protected him. "Maybe I should ask him one of these days."

BRENNAN: "Yeah...and then tell me what he says," Brennan smiled, stealing another chip from the basket. He sighed a little and rubbed at his forehead, just looking at Sigmund. "I always wanted a brother...or a sister," he said. "Is he your only one or do you have more?"

SIGMUND: "He's my only one." And he was quite the handful, but it seemed lately he was maturing. Taking a long drink from his margarita, Sigmund promised himself he'd go slow. It took his body quite a bit to get even buzzed, and he wasn't going to waste Brennan's money on more drinks.

BRENNAN: Brennan nodded, taking a long sip of his own drink before glancing over at Sigmund's. "Come on, stop babysitting that drink," he teased. "I'm totally buying another round after this." He made the ice clink in the glass again and then reached for another chip. "Are you guys alike or really different?"

SIGMUND: Sigmund laughed. "I thought you said you weren't a drunken frat boy. How quickly that fades in the face of a good tequila." Two drinks wasn't exactly binge drinking, of course. He took a bigger drink, threatening to chug the large cup, at the risk of a brain freeze. "We're pretty different, I think. But people have told me we're more alike than I'll admit. You're an only child?"

BRENNAN: "I'm not a drunken frat boy," Brennan laughed. "I haven't had a drink in like three weeks," he said, smiling at Sigmund. "Yeah, an only child," he added. "I mean...actually," he cleared his throat, wondering why the rest of this was about to come out of his mouth in front of someone he dind't know. "I had a twin sister...but she passed away during childbirth," he cleared his throat, glancing down at his drink. He didn't want to bring the mood down or anything but he felt compelled to answer Sigmund's question honestly.

SIGMUND: The honesty was sweet, though the actual bit of information was surprising and sad. "Oh, I see." His voice went soft with interest and concern. Sigmund thought about Nixon, who had a twin no one had told him about, living with a different pack. A hint of guilt crossed his face, but passed quickly.

BRENNAN: "But yeah...so, just me," Brennan said, signaling for the waiter to come over and take their order for more drinks. He ordered another one same as the first and smiled at Sigmund, waiting for him to place his order.

SIGMUND: "Banana margarita, please." He picked the wussiest of fruits, but seemed to take mild delight in it. "Are you sure you have the money to waste on me? I hate to get drinks off a starving college student. I'm probably cutting into your Ramen budget."

BRENNAN: "Oh it's cool," Brennan smiled, not really wanting to let Sigmund know that he probably should be saving his money. He owed this man more than two drinks after all for helping him get this new job. "So...what do you usually do after work?" He asked. "Do you have any hobbies or do you normally just hang around college campuses when you're not working?"

SIGMUND: How did one describe their hobbies when a great portion of them included running in the woods, taking down deer, barking, howling, and the like? "I do high school career fairs too." He noted. "I have kind of a big extended family, so I spend a lot of time with them. I cook." He laughed.

BRENNAN: "You have a big family?" Brennan's eyes lit up a little. He hadn't seen any extended family in years and had been used to living on his own for ages now. "You're close to all of them?" He took his new drink from the waiter as he approached and swirled it around a little.

SIGMUND: He nodded. "It's certainly big. Sort of a mix of family and adopted family, you know how some people just collect others? I guess I kind of do that." It was the best way he could explain the pack to outsiders. Noticing the lighing up, Sigmund felt relieved for some reason. "We're close. It gets kind of crazy sometimes, of course."

BRENNAN: "You collect people?" Brennan smiled, wondering how one went about getting collected. "Like people who don't have their own families or what?" He asked, taking another long drink from his margarita before looking over at Sigmund. He never would have just randomly guessed that he'd be a family sort of man.

SIGMUND: "Yeah, like you invite someone over for thanksgiving and suddenly they've moved in, you know?" He didn't talk as if it annoyed him, quite the opposite. "People taking care of each other because I think that's just how we're built. We belong in groups."

BRENNAN: "Oh, you think so?" Brennan smiled, trying to recall the last time he'd just sat around talking with a guy. "Well I'm pretty used to living on my own. Lots of takeout. Lots of paper plates," he smiled, randomly reaching for Sigmund's drink to steal a sip to see what it tasted like. "Hmm...fruity," he commented.

SIGMUND: Sigmund made a suspicious face at the word 'fruity.' But he grinned at it anyway, even if there was a slightly mocking connotation there. "I'd go crazy on my own. Though sometimes I think it would be incredibly nice." After a few seconds, he chanced an invitation. "You should come over sometime, meet some of them, and I'll cook for you."

BRENNAN: "Oh you will, will you?" Brennan positively grinned at that, unable to keep the smile from his face. "And what are you going to cook, Chef Sigmund?" He asked. "And if you ever really need to be alone, you can come hang out at my place," he offered. "It's pretty quiet there all the time," he paused, realizing what he'd say. "Not that...you'd be alone I guess, if I was there," he laughed.

SIGMUND: This was starting to get very comfortable, very familiar, and Sigmund was enjoying himself immensely. "What's your favorite food? That's what I'll cook. Sandwiches and soda?" Because at this point, that was all he'd seen Brennan eat. When the other mentioned coming over to his house, he felt a flutter in his stomach, paired with some worry. "You really want to hang out with an old guy?"

BRENNAN: "Hey I don't practice age discrimination," Brennan grinned. "Or are you worried you won't be able to keep up with me?" He teased a little since it had been Sigmund who used the term 'old guy.' "And no, my favorite food is not sandwiches and soda," he laughed, taking another drink. "They just happen to be cheap. I love Italian food. Pasta, lasagna, bruschetta, all of the above. It's my favorite."

SIGMUND: "Trust me, I can keep up." That was loaded, but it was profoundly true. With Sigmund's physical capabilities, he was healthier than any human could dream. Finishing off his second drink, Sigmund wasn't even feeling it, but he liked the way the alcohol lingered against his tongue. "Italian? All right. We'll have an Italian feast."

BRENNAN: "Do you play video games?" Brennan asked. That was mostly what he did when he wasn't working or in class or doing homework. He only had a ps, nothing very fancy, but he enjoyed playing as much as he could. He finished off his drink as well but unlike Sigmund, Brennan was a little bit buzzed. "Italian sounds gooood," he grinned, grabbing another chip since it was the only option available.

SIGMUND: At the mention of video games, Sigmund's face went blank, then twisted into a pained expression. "You would pick something like video games. I'm terrible at them; you'll put me to shame."

BRENNAN: "They're not hard. You just need to practice," Brennan smiled. "I'll teach you." He slid his card across the table to the waiter when he came back with the tab and then glanced over at Sigmund again. "Or I could try to come up with a more sophisticated form of entertainment?"

SIGMUND: "No, anything you want is fine." And his voice held a devoted tone, as if Sigmund would do just about anything to make Brennan happy. "I'll just say that I let you win. And my ego will be spared." It was clear Sigmund didn't have a big ego, so he was obviously joking.

BRENNAN: "Okay," Brennan laughed. "Whatever makes you sleep easier at night," he teased, pushing his bangs out of his face. "I guess we should probably go, huh? I bet it's just about past your bedtime."

SIGMUND: "Did you drive to work?" The thought just occured to him. Part of him kind of wanted to think that he'd have to drive Brennan home, but the other part of him worried where exactly he thought he was going with that line of imagination.

BRENNAN: "No..." Brennan admitted. "I've been trying to save on gas. I took the bus." He picked up his empty glass and sucked a piece of ice into his mouth, moving it around with his tongue.

SIGMUND: Glancing at his watch, Sigmund didn't know the bus schedules, having not much need for them. "Do they run this late?" He wondered out loud, watching that cube of ice and hearing the pleasant click of it against Brennan's teeth.

BRENNAN: Brennan reached into his pocket for his phone and flipped it open. It was . "Oh shit," he sighed. "The last bus runs at midnight." He hadn't exactly expected to stay out on this side of town after work.

SIGMUND: "S'alright," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'll just drop you off." Standing up, he was ready to go, the bill having been squared away and the drinks finished. He didn't mind, that was for sure, any excuse to spend just a little more time with him.

BRENNAN: "Are you...are you sure?" Brennan asked, sliding out of the booth. "I don't want to make you go out of your way, man," he said, sticking his wallet and phone back into his pockets.

SIGMUND: "I'm not going to make you pay for my drinks and a cab. It's no trouble, honest." Money problems were the last thing on Sigmund's mind, so he wasn't concerned about it being out of the way.

BRENNAN: Brennan hadn't even thought of a cab. He was planning on walking all the way back home. "If you're sure then," he smiled. "Thank you, Sigmund," he said, following the older man out to his vehicle.

SIGMUND: The parking lot of the newspaper office was completely empty by then, except for Sigmund's truck, so it was pretty easy to find. Unlocking the doors and sliding in, he started the engine to blasting AC/DC. Shutting it down with a start, he looked over at Brennan sheepishly. "At least it wasn't the Madonna disc."

BRENNAN: Brennan just had to laugh at that and wondered if Sigmund was kidding about the Madonna disc. "Don't tell me you're actually still listening to cd's," he gasped in mock horror, covering his mouth with a hand after he got buckled. "There are these things called iPods, Sigmund..."

SIGMUND: He pointed at the slot in the stereo. "But the truck has a cd player." He was certain that meant he was supposed to use it, especially since his music was collected on cds. Pulling out of the parking lot, he realized he didn't know where Brennan lived, but knew enough to turn in the direction of the college. "Address? Directions?"

BRENNAN: "Oh...yeah," Brennan smiled sheepishly. "I live in The Village apartments on Main," he told him. "By the bowling alley." He sat back in his seat with a satisfied sigh and looked around at the scenery as they drove. He was so glad he didn't have to make the walk.

SIGMUND: Since Sigmund knew where that was, he didn't ask any other questions about it. As they drove, Sigmund cracked a window, feeling warm. His body temperature was higher than a human's and so just his presence tended to heat places up.

BRENNAN: "So do you live around here somewhere?" Brennan asked, looking over at Sigmund then. "I'm not making you drive way out of your way am I?"

SIGMUND: Sigmund shook his head. "Everything's out of the way compared to where I live, so don't worry about it." The pack house had existed for longer than Sigmund could even remember, and that's where they'd always lived so even if it was a little inconvenient, he'd never thought of moving closer to the city.

BRENNAN: "Oh yeah?" Brennan smiled, looking over at Sigmund again. "Do you live outside the city? I never would have pegged you for a mountain man," he teased a little. "You'd need a shaggy beard." He fiddled with his phone in his pocket, enjoying the ride. It sure beat the bus.

SIGMUND: He kept his eyes on the road, but every other sense he had was focused on Brennan. Even his skin was tuned to the other person in the truck, feeling whatever energy the other was putting off. "Yeah, pretty far out. But we have cable and internet." As if that automatically made it civilized rather than some wild cabin.

BRENNAN: "Well I guess that's all you really need to live, huh?" Brennan teased. He paused for a second, wondering if he should ask the question that was on his mind. He wasn't sure but he was also slightly buzzed which helped his confidence levels. "Who is we?" He asked, since Sigmund hadn't mentioned a girl or boyfriend earlier.

SIGMUND: "My brother, some family. Pretty much anyone who needs a place to stay. It's a big place." That was the best way he could explain his living arrangements. He considered the house to belong to everyone who lived in it, but to explain that to an outsider was close to impossible without letting go the whole story. When he pulled up to Brennan's place, he parked the truck and sat back.

BRENNAN: Brennan just nodded, accepting the story because he didn't have any reason to question it. When they pulled up to the apartment, he unbuckled and looked over at Sigmund. "You uh, wanna come up for a few?" He asked, figuring it was the nice thing to say. Not that he would have minded Sigmund coming up, he just didn't expect him to.

SIGMUND: He really hadn't expected that invitation and he blinked a few times. It was hard to make Sigmund look uncomfortable, but Brennan had managed. Something told him the guy was going to manage more than a few times in the future. "It's kind of late. But we should do this again sometime."

BRENNAN: "Okay cool," Brennan shrugged. "And I'll clean up my place before inviting you up next time," he grinned. "See you at work." And with that, he hopped out of the car and headed for the stairs, shortly disappearing into his second floor apartment.

Harrison, Leah

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 07:32:06 GMT

Harrison was lying on a bench outside under a streetlamp. The halogen bulb spilled cool light around him and he looked as if he could have been on stage instead of just out on a curb. He didn't have a home to speak of, and most nights he just roamed around, dodging cops and talking to people. It helped that he was a vampire; the talents that came along with that unnatural blood were helpful tools to have for a street kid.

But with the advantages came the disadvantages, namely the whole burn in the daylight caveat. He did his best each morning to find a suitable hiding spot, whether it be in a cemetery, or under the streets he walked at night. There were a few homeless shelters he frequented to get showers, but he always turned down the offer of food or clothing, much to people's dismay. Tonight, his hair was wet from a recent trip to the Ninth Street shelter facilities. When he heard footsteps on the otherwise silent sidewalk, he sat up quickly, hoping it wasn't a cop bent on moving him along.

Sigmund, Trevor

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 06:10:48 GMT

SIGMUND: Sigmund was on good terms with shifters everywhere. He knew that diplomacy these days was the true key to protecting his wolves, and not only did he have communication with other packs, but with other species. So while it was surprising when he received an international call from South Africa, he was ready to deal with it. At the moment, he was waiting for Pirate to arrive with Trevor, their newest resident. When Pirate's car drove up the driveway, Sigmund went outside eagerly.

TREVOR: When the war broke out between the prides, trevor had been ready and eager to help his pride. But after getting jumped by two members of the neighboring clan, his parents decided it was too great a risk and they sent Trevor stateside to live with one of the few allies they had there. The flight was excruciating for Trevor, twelve hours or more on a plane full of people, then the rush through the airport to baggage and waiting with all the people all over him. When he got to the car he knew he still had a ways to travel but a three hour drive was nothing and he slept most of the way with his head tucked against the window. When they finally got to the house in Providence he was awake but sort of groggy. Sliding out of the car, he stretched and just looked around.

SIGMUND: "You're the least talkative charge I've ever had." Pirate grumbled, and it couldn't be determined if he was annoyed by it, or relieved. "So there he is, Lion King, Sigmund. I'll be in the house." Pi left, popping up the stairs, past Sigmund with not much more than a respectful nod. Sigmund looked excited to meet Trevor. "Hey." He didn't expect the same kind of reception he would from a new wolf. "How was your flight?"

TREVOR: "It was a rough flight." He said softly, shaking his head a little bit as he brought his hand up to rub it along the back of his neck. "It was very long." he'd never flown before either and it had been incredibly uncomfortable.

SIGMUND: Sigmund looked him over kindly. "Your room is ready, everyone knows you're here. I hope Pirate didn't scare you off too much, not many of us are quite as--grouchy as he is."

TREVOR: "I fell asleep on the drive back so I didn't really talk to him at all." He stretched his arms again and then got his bag from the car so he could take it inside. "I need to run and then maybe sleep, if that is all right with you.":

SIGMUND: He was unabashadly staring at Trevor, trying to learn his body language. Moving toward him to help him with his bag, Sigmund took the opportunity to breathe in Trevor's scent. "Yes, that's fine. Did you want someone to run with you?"

TREVOR: "it doesn't matter." Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to enjoy running around here. Usually he ran in really open areas without cover of trees or anything like that. And it was never much running as much as it was lounging or laying in the sun. "Where should I put my bag?"

SIGMUND: Sigmund's excitement was rapidly being sucked out by the kid's blase responses, but he knew it was going to be hard. No one wanted to be sent away from their family. "Come upstairs, put your bag in your room and then we can go out back so you can shift."

TREVOR: Trevor juts didn't feel well and he was anxious. This place was nothing like home. It was so... cold here. He carried his bag with him into the house and he put it where Sigmund showed him to. He was really exhausted but he knew that he needed to run or he'd never rest well.

SIGMUND: Sigmund led him downstairs and out to the backyard. He knew the landscape here wasn't going to be anything like where Trevor was accustomed. "I'll go with you," he decided out loud, because it would be safer. Walking down the path to the ravine and the wooded areas below before turning and spreading out his hands. "Here? If you want privacy, there is brush just behind you."

TREVOR: Looking over his shoulder, he nodded and then turned to go off into the brush. He shed his clothes and folded them before shifting. It didn't take much effort or time and before long there was a large lion stepping out of the brush. Trevor wasn't even twenty yet, had only been shifting a few years, so he didn't have a full mane, though he was getting there.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had taken a chance and stayed a human so that he could really see Trevor's form. He'd seen lions at zoos, but there was something entirely different about seeing one larger than life in front of him. Tugging his clothes off finally, he didn't bother hiding the shift. It was smooth for him even if it was still excrutiating. He hid it very well and before too long, a large mottled wolf padded up to the lion, unafraid to offer comfort and touch. He touched his shoulder to the gold fur and licked briefly at the rounded ear.

TREVOR: Wiggling his ear a little bit, he shook out the half of his mane that had grown in and he swished his tail back and forth. He was kind of laid back in this form. Turning his head to the side, he drug his thick, sandpapery tongue against the side of Sigmund's head.

SIGMUND: It felt good and Sigmund turned his nose to bury it appreciatively in Trevor's fur. Even in this form he wanted to make him feel welcome, but there was a need to dominate too. Moving his chin so that it was over Trevor's shoulders he put his front paws up, laying his upper half sideways across the lion's back. It was a physical putting himself over Trevor, but still in a protective mannet. Hopping the rest of the way over him, he ended up on the other side and kept his body close.

TREVOR: The jumping over him was sort of startling and it made Trevor sort of sink to the side, turning his head to look at Sigmund. He wasn't afraid of the werewolf but he wasn't going to get close to him if he was going to be doing strange things. The lions had other customs for showing dominance and so he didn't quite understand what Sigmund wanted.

SIGMUND: Sigmund didn't mind the slinking, he simply observed and tried to learn about Trevor. Trotting forward, he turned to look back at the lion, waiting and wagging his tail. The other would have to lead here, but Sigmund's paws ached to run.

TREVOR: Stretching his long body out, he just looked at Sigmund. There was not going to be a run unless he saw something to chase and usually that only happened when it was another lion he was interested in or something he could eat.

SIGMUND: Sigmund let out a doggy sigh through his nose, saying with his whole body that lions were boring, and no fun at all. Loping a circle around the beast, he took off, diving into the underbrush for a good jog, remaining in the area in case Trevor needed him.

TREVOR: Trevor started after him at a slow trot but he didn't run. Not until he caught a flash of white tail and saw the deer. It was leaned over the stream, drinking from it and Trevor instantly went into predator mode. His body hunched down and he started to creep forward to get closer.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had smelled it before he saw it, and his paws started moving silently. Having enough human curiosity to fall back and watch, Sigmund didn't make the first move.

TREVOR: Inch by inch he moved forward until he was so close to the deer that he could have almost tasted it. Then when he was sure that he could get it, Trevor pounced. With all the grace one would expect from a big cat he took the deer down to the ground, claws sunk in to it's side as he went to close his jaws around it.

SIGMUND: It was exciting and Sigmund got low to the ground, a shiver running across his skin and making his fur tremble with the smell of blood. Finally standing up, he came closer, the deer lying still now.

TREVOR: The kill had been savage but it had been almost like an art. He'd taken the deer down with relative ease, used to hunting big game back home. He licked his short muzzle and lifted his head to glance over at Sigmund, offering up the first bite.

SIGMUND: Putting his nose close to Trevor's he licked the rest of the blood from his jaws, then snorted appreciatively. He wasn't hungry, and the fact that Trevor had offered was satisfying enough to him. Flopping down onto the grass, he let the lion have at the kill.

TREVOR: Lower his head down, he tore into the deer. Trevor was starving from the long flight and drive. They had hardly fed him anything edible on the plane and he really needed to fill his belly before he went back to the house for a nap. He ate his fill of the deer, which was a good portion of it and then he went to the stream to have a little water.

SIGMUND: Sigmund rolled onto his side, relaxing calmly and letting his tail thump pleasantly on the ground. He'd gotten a bit of a run, and that would tide him over for awhile if the opportunity didn't present itself for awhile.

TREVOR: Coming over to where Sigmund was, Trevor just sprawled out beside him, his head resting on top of the wolf's body. There was no one in the world that could lounge like Trevor could and he was about to show that ability off.

SIGMUND: It was an odd feeling, but a good one. All in all, he supposed, werecreatures were werecreatures. The rhythm of his breathing was steady and he drifted off beneath the cat.

TREVOR: It didn't take long for Trevor to fall asleep, but the big cat could and would sleep anywhere. When he finally woke he'd shifted back into his human form and he was completely nude and a little disoriented.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had woken up before him and was dressed already. "Ready to head back inside?" He spoke quietly from a little ways off, knees hitched up as he rested his elbows on them.

TREVOR: Trevor turned over and he rubbed his eyes as he sat up. He groaned and then yawned before moving to stand. There was not an inch of him that was ashamed of his nudity.

SIGMUND: Sigmund wasn't bothered by it, keeping his eyes on Trevor's face because that's what was interesting to him right now. "Come on," he stood up as well, gesturing for Trevor to follow him up to the house. He'd already picked up the neatly folded clothes.

TREVOR: Trevor walked to him and took his clothes so that he could slide his pants on. Once they were on he didnt' bother with anything else and he just carried his clothes back to the house

SIGMUND: "You're very handsome, as far as lions go. I suppose I haven't seen all that many. But the fur is really amazing." Thick, dense, and utterly sleek. He led them upstairs to Trevor's room. "You're next to Pirate. He's very quiet."

TREVOR: "All right. Thank you. Thank you for having me here." Because he was glad that he had somewhere safe to be, even if he really just wanted to be in Africa with his family. "You have a very nice home."

SIGMUND: "It's your home for awhile too now." He was sure to mention. Motioning down the hall, he let Trevor know where the closest bathroom was. "Feel free to explore, or ask questions."

TREVOR: "Thanks." Trevor said with a smile. "I think I am going to sleep for a while. I will come and find you when I wake up? If you have any questions or want to talk."

SIGMUND: Smiling, Sigmund nodded. "All right. That's a fine plan." While he couldn't think of any questions that he wouldn't rather learn through everyday interactions, he still wanted to keep the lines of communication open.

TREVOR: Trevor gave him a nod and then went into the bedroom so that he could lay down on the bed. He sprawled out on top of the covers and just passed right out.

Sigmund, Jeremiah

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 05:48:01 GMT

SIGMUND: Sigmund had his laptop with him as he sat on the huge wrap-around porch of the large farmhouse he owned. The tree-ladden countryside sprawled out in front of him, and mountains arched up behind the house, creating the perfect location for both sides of Sigmund. It was a quiet, peaceful place to write, and it was an ideal place to run with no other human homes for quite a few miles around. Tapping out his op ed piece for this Sunday's paper, Sigmund let eyes flick to the clock in the corner of his screen. They'd arrive soon and he promised himself he wouldn't be anxious.

JEREMIAH: Sitting in the passenger side of Ryland's car, Jeremiah toyed with the ends of the white and black striped scarf that his brother had wrapped around his neck before he had headed out to go to Ryland's. He and Julian were not on the same shifting schedule because Aiden didn't want both boys gone at the same time. Jeremiah had had two shifts. His second had been earlier that morning and then he'd showered and slept on the guest bedroom in Ryland's house for a few hours before Ryland woke him to tell him that he was going to the pack alpha's for dinner. Jeremiah had a sinking suspicion it was so that Ryland and Jude could have some alone time but he really didn't mind. When the car pulled up at the house he smiled over at Ryland and then got out so that he could walk up and meet Sigmund. He really had no idea what he was doing or what proper protocol was. He was just mostly unfamiliar with all of this.

SIGMUND: Sigmund glanced up when he heard the car coming down the road. Closing his laptop, he set it on the table and stood up. Protocol to Sigmund was less than important and when he'd gone to visit other packs, he'd been called out on the carpet for it. But he refused to force an archaic sense of animalism on his wolves, even though he demanded respect. Sigmund thought modernity was the way to go, the saving grace and the future of werewolf-kind. Few other leaders embraced it as he did. "Hello." He watched Jeremiah carefully with sharply curious eyes.

JEREMIAH: There was something almost lethargic about Jeremiah. Walking slowly across the yard to the steps he looked up at Sigmund from the edge of the porch and he just gave him a quiet smile. "Hello." His voice was airy and light, almost like he was drugged, but he wasn't. Of the two werewolves he was the one that had been left undrugged and unchained, because Aiden didn't have to worry about him running away.

SIGMUND: Sigmund's wolf was powerful and with something so new in front of it, he had a hard time keeping the energy from overflowing. Instead of fighting it, he channeled it, reaching out his hand and taking Jeremiah's in a seemingly innocent handshake. As soon as their hands touched though, he let the power wash out over him, just enough to enliven the other, inject him with the sensation of home and welcome.

JEREMIAH: The rush of power over him gave him goosebumps and he shivered a little bit as he shook his hand. His bright blue eyes seemed to shine when he did that, jumping to life, though he just kept that soft smile on his face. "I'm Jeremiah." he said, as if Sigmund didn't know already.

SIGMUND: He nodded, releasing Jeremiah's hand after a couple of beats. "Come inside." Sigmund's tone was kind and steady, full of quiet charisma as he led the smaller wolf inside. The kitchen was cozy with a small breakfast nook. The larger meals were had in the dining room. "There's no one else here this evening, so we can eat in the kitchen." He smiled.

JEREMIAH: Jeremiah walked up the steps and into the house. He was in a fairly good mood. He felt good on account of the run and the nap that he had had. It was warm around here, which was so much different from how cold they always kept it at Aiden's house. "You have a very nice house. It's very warm."

SIGMUND: "Thank you," he said as he opened the refridgerator. "What is it that you like to eat?" Meat, he assumed, but everyone had their favorite foods and with the stock they kept in the house, Sigmund was pretty sure he could fulfill nearly any request Jeremiah might have.

JEREMIAH: "I could eat anything." Jeremiah was easy going and he liked to do whatever would please anyone else. When he got to the kitchen he moved to lean against the counter next to the refridgerator and he just watched Sigmund as he looked inside. "Do you think that we could have mashed potatoes?" He liked those and he hadn't gotten them in a while. They were very limited to what there was to eat at Aiden's because it had to be what thye could make.

SIGMUND: Such a simple request made Sigmund grin. "Uh, yeah. Yeah we can have mashed potatoes." He set to fixing dinner, nothing from scratch, but everything was sure to taste good. Sigmund was a master by now at making large quantities of food fast and well. He put on some Shake n' Bake chicken as well. Once everything was cooking, he sat down at the table. "So, how has it been so far?"

JEREMIAH: "I don't know, I can't remember." he'd only shifted twice. "I remember taking a bath and then waking up in the basement in bed, and then I remember driving out here and then waking up in the guest bedroom at Ryland's house so that I could come over here to talk to you."

SIGMUND: Sigmund quirked a brow, folding his hands together on the table. "If you don't remember much, then what will we talk about?" He was half kidding really, and the smile that followed his words indicated that. "Do you have questions?"

JEREMIAH: "Aiden said that I was screaming and thrashing around and that it sounded like I was in a lot of pain. Does it always hurt?" Because he couldn't remember it being painful. "I was very sore after."

SIGMUND: "It gets easier as time goes on, and it's always better if you try not to resist it." After a second, he frowned, names registering. "Aiden?" That was peculiar and a chill went up his spine, realizing who that must be.

JEREMIAH: "Yes, Aiden. He keeps me." Like a pet, but he wasn't going to say that. "I stay at the house with him and his brothers. They are Ryland's brothers."

SIGMUND: Sigmund didn't know what to say to that, feeling profoundly blindsided. Jaw clenching down, he got up to stir in the potatoes, whisking them perhaps a little too hard and getting blops of mix on the counter. Jeremiah looked healthy, at the very least, but he knew how much abuse a wolf could take before showing it. "Keeps you?"

JEREMIAH: "Yes." Jeremiah came over to stand beside Sigmund and he ran his finger over one of the blobs of mashed potato and he stuck it in his mouth. "Aiden found us after we left the pack we were in." Their father had been the leader of their pack, though he had kept the twins very sheltered because of the hostility with some of the pack members and because they were his youngest sons. When their father had gotten killed and overthrown, Julian had taken Jeremiah and run with him and Jeremiah had followed.

SIGMUND: "Well now that you've found this pack, you can come and live here." If only it were that easy. Something told Sigmund it wasn't, but at least he could live in a fantasy world for a few seconds as he pulled the chicken out of the oven and dished them up two plates. The plates were more like platters in this house, and he put extra on Jeremiah's plate because he was a growing boy and needed it.

JEREMIAH: "I like Aiden." Jeremiah said definitively. As if there was just no other choice in the matter. "He's very nice to me and he treats me very well." And he was sure that when Julian came around the vampire would treat him better too. "but if you wouldn't mind, I would like to come out to visit sometimes. It's nice here. Very warm. Jude is sweet and Ryland is very helpful."

SIGMUND: Sigmund picked up on everything held in Jeremiah's voice and he took a moment to consider it. Carrying both of their plates to the table, Sigmund set them down and looked the little wolf over again. "Aiden's brother Victor isn't exactly the best friend of werewolves." He felt the need to point out. "But I wouldn't force you to stay somewhere you didn't want to be. I'd love for you to visit us though." Because that would at least ease Sigmund's mind that he was getting some healthy interaction.

JEREMIAH: Coming to the table, Jeremiah sat down beside Sigmund at the table and he tucked one leg up under him so he was a little bit higher in the seat. "Victor isn't very nice but he has been nicer since Elijah." The vampire had found a toy to play with and for the most part he left everyone else in the house alone. "We stay in the basement, and Victor stays upstairs."

SIGMUND: It was clear that he didn't like talking about this, but he wanted all of the information that Jeremiah would give him. "Elijah?" He asked, praying to whatever god there was that this new name wasn't a wolf too. A wolf in Victor's hands would need to be dealt with.

JEREMIAH: "He's a boy from the symphony. Victor takes him everywhere. He's very tall and skinny and he's very pretty. I think that I heard Victor telling Gavin that he wants to make Elijah his servant but I didn't know what that meant." But to Sigmund he might understand that it meant Elijah was human.

SIGMUND: Breathing a sigh of relief, Sigmund really didn't have the heart or time to worry about the rest of the world, and humans certainly fit into that category. He started to eat then, cutting up his chicken and smoothing his fork through his mashed potatotes. There was water and juice on the table already. "You need to make sure to eat enough protein. Don't be afraid to eat too much; you're body knows what it needs."

JEREMIAH: "I ate a lot the first night." after the first time that he shifted. "Julian's been shfiting for a long time already, I thought I wasn't ever going to shift." but he was glad that he did because it made him feel closer to Julian and he liked that. "How often will this happen? I started feeling really itchy and hot and that's why Aiden brought me to see Ryland, and then I shifted in the woods with him I think."

SIGMUND: "It happens quite often in the first year or so. As you get older, you'll need to change less and less often, but once a week is a good schedule to keep you healthy. You'll learn the signs. Hot, itchy skin is one of the main ones, though that's pretty close to when your body will just take over and shift for you. That's very dangerous for those around you."

JEREMIAH: "How will I know before it gets to that point?" Because he couldn't tell what the other signs were, he just knew that he needed to shift when he started to get really warm and he'd told Aiden that. "Aiden said when I shifted I ran around in the yard for a while and then slept on the porch until I changed back. It doesn't seem that dangerous."

SIGMUND: "Some wolves are very vicious. There's no way of knowing for sure how it will be. Aiden was lucky, you could have ripped him apart, or at least hurt him." Sigmund had a hard time saying 'could have' instead of 'should have.' "You must be docile by nature." That was sweet and it worried him that he couldn't protect himself. "You'll want to be outside. Sometimes you'll drift off--be preoccupied and have a short attention span. You can feel it in your bones, they ache a little, you feel like stretching more."

JEREMIAH: Jeremiah nodded, taking in all the little bits of information that Sigmund was feeding him while he ate. He commited them all to memory and he liked knowing that the other wolf was trying to help him. "I've always been this way." Docile, he meant. In both his human form and his wolf form. He'd never been particularly agressive.

SIGMUND: "That can be good." He ate a few bites, chewing thoughtfully. "In pack life, your sort is needed. If everyone was aggressive, we'd have killed each other off a long time ago. But I worry you can't protect yourself, especially in the place where you live. That should be my job, by all rights."

JEREMIAH: "It was our dad's job before." Jeremiah said softly. "His name was Jack. Our oldest brother killed him and ran the rest of us out." Anyone that was blood and had claim to the alpha position. Not that Julian or Jeremiah would have ever posed a threat. Neither of the boys were alpha material, least of all Jeremiah. This was something that Sigmund would have been fairly aware of, if only having heard it through the grapevine. The pack they had come from had been descending into anarchy for a long time.

SIGMUND: Sigmund nodded, understanding quickly. That sort of pack life wasn't exactly the kind he'd want to go back to either. Sitting in silence for a little bit, he considered his options. Nothing in him was the sort who limited his wolves' choices in life. "Well, you're welcome here anytime, Jeremiah. And if you ever need help, here is where you come, all right?"

JEREMIAH: "All right." Though he didn't think that he would need help aside from a place toshift and the occasional question about what was going on. "MY dad kept us very close to him all the time. I don't know very much about how other packs work" And theirs had been so dysfunctional that it was hardly a model.

SIGMUND: "They all work a little bit differently, whatever works for that set of wolves." He didn't want to outright badmouth how Jeremiah's family was run; sometimes things were brutal. "But you'll find the wolves around here to be a little less hostile. Most, anyway. We help each other. We argue, of course, but it all comes out all right in the end."

JEREMIAH: Stirring his mashed potatoes up, he stuck the fork in his mouth and just listened to what Sigmund had to say to him. "I hope that they are less hostile here." He smiled. He didn't like to think about his family much becuase it made his stomach hurt, so he just let the rest of the comments he nearly said slide back down and he focused more on eating.

SIGMUND: Even a human could pick up on the fact that Jeremiah was through talking about his family and Sigmund granted him that, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. His ultimate goal was to create the sort of place Jeremiah could come to if the fact that he liked Aiden ever changed. He didn't like that two were in the vampire's care, but at least the connection with Ryland would probably do them good. "What do you look like, as a wolf, I mean? Black, I would imagine."

JEREMIAH: "I don't know. Aiden said I was very small and very dark and that my eyesl ook the same as they do right now." Which he thought would be interesting. "I told him that next time I wanted him to take a picture of me so that I could see."

SIGMUND: It was odd to think of an interaction like that, but Sigmund was rather glad to hear it. "Not a bad idea. You know, as you get older, you'll be able to retain more and more of yourself when you shift. You'll remember things better. Though for some it takes a long time to get there."

JEREMIAH: "I hope that I can remember things soon." Just because he wanted to know what it was like when he shifted. Before long his plate was empty and he just leaned his head against his hand to look at Sigmund.

SIGMUND: Sigmund was finished as well. "Are you still hungry?" There was plenty food to be had and the way he asked showed that he wouldn't mind fixing something else.

JEREMIAH: "I'd like more potatoes if there are more." Jeremiah was pretty easy to please and if there were more potatoes then he'd be content with having a little more. "Do you live out here by yourself?" he asked, a random sort of question that just sort of popped into his mind.

SIGMUND: He got up and spooned up Jeremiah more potatoes. "No, some of the pack lives here. It's a pretty big house; I'd get lonely here all by myself." Sigmund couldn't imagine being in this place completely alone. There was almost always something going on in this house, and the walls were happy for it.

JEREMIAH: "Could I stay here sometime if I wanted?" he didn't want to at the moment but he liked knowing that the option was there if he ever wanted to. For now he knew he was safe at Aiden's but is Victor ever hurt him or Julian he knew he'd have no choice but to leave.

SIGMUND: "I'd like it if you would. You could have your own room, or share one, if you wanted." There was somehow always space, and only once had Sigmund had to add onto the house. He was pleased that at least Jeremiah was thinking in that direction as a possibility.

JEREMIAH: "Do you mind that we stay at Aiden's? He was afraid if we came out here we wouldn't go back." Really what he needed to worry about was what Julian wanted, because Jeremiah would always do what he wanted.

SIGMUND: Sigmund wasn't going to lie. "I worry that it will end badly if you stay with Aiden, and I worry that he isn't treating you well. So yes, I mind. But ultimately, that decision is up to you. You won't be happy if you're forced to live someplace, so I'll simply keep my door open." That was the way Sigmund worked and the way he ran the pack. Some didn't agree with him, but he'd won Alpha and if they had a problem, they could challenge him.

JEREMIAH: At least he was honest. "Aiden treats me very well and he treats Julian well now, too. " but Jeremiah did understand the dangers of living with vampires, particularly grumpy ones.

SIGMUND: The 'now' qualifier raked ice down Sigmund's back, but he did his best not to show it. "I can't quite understand why he'd want you there. Not that you aren't very nice, of course, but they don't seem the type over there to take strays in." That was, of course, without a price.

JEREMIAH: "Well it's mutually beneficial." He said, as if he was just repeating something that he had heard Aiden say to someone else or repeating perhaps something aiden had said directly to him.

SIGMUND: "How does it benefit you?" Sigmund rarely let anyone get away with generalizations unless he didn't want to deal with the issue.

JEREMIAH: "Aiden keeps us safe and he makes sure that we are well taken care of." Which he really wasn't aware that they could get from anyone else, on account of the fact that his own pack had never been particularly safe so he didn't see why Sigmund's would be.

SIGMUND: Sigmund considered that for a short moment. "All right." He'd buy that, given what he knew about Jeremiah's pack. "And what is it that he gets from you?" He wasn't certain how honest Jeremiah would be, but he had no reason to believe the kid would out and out lie.

JEREMIAH: "We feed him and I have sex with him sometimes." He didn't know if Aiden and Julian were having sex and it wasn't really something that he wanted to think about, so he just didn't.

SIGMUND: Immediately, Pirate came to mind and Sigmund shut his eyes, practically wincing. He hoped the wolf didn't catch wind of that. "You don't have to feed or have sex with someone for protection, Jeremiah. I hope you know that, and will think about it. But ultimately, that's up to you."

JEREMIAH: "It is much safer for us at Aiden's then it was back home." And that effected the way he thought about the pack that he was visiting. It seemed normal on the outside but he knew that didn't mean there wouldn't be the same sort of in fighting his own pack had gone through. "I like Aiden very much, he's sweet to me."

SIGMUND: It was getting to the point where Sigmund couldn't quite stomach the thought, so he just nodded. "Of course. That's good." Nodded, and agreed as much as he could. Standing up, he went to put the dishes in the sink, filling it up with hot soapy water.

JEREMIAH: Jeremiah got the idea that he had said something wrong and so he just sat there quietly, his hands folded in his lap as he watched Sigmund rinse the dishes. "Would you like me to help you do the dishes?"

SIGMUND: Glancing over his shoulder with a large smile, Sigmund shook his head. "No, no don't worry about it; I'm going to let these soak." Wiping his hands off on the dish towel, he turned to motion Jeremiah to get up. "I'll give you a tour."

JEREMIAH: Jeremiah got up from the table and he tucked his hands into the pockets of the hoodie that he had on. "Of the house?"

SIGMUND: "Yeah!" He was enthusiastic again, casually pushing aside his own issues with Jeremiah and Aiden. He led him out of the kitchen into the high-ceilings of the front entrance area. All of the decorations were reminiscent of an old farmhouse, and when they went into the living room, a stone fireplace was the centerpiece. Comfort seemed a priority here and the rooms Sigmund showed were all filled with a homey sense.

JEREMIAH: The whole place was so warm in comparison to the stone hallways and the chilled bedrooms at the vampires' house. Jeremiah wanted to dive onto the couch and just curl up but he just smiled at Sigmund instead and nodded a little. "I like this room."

SIGMUND: He showed him the bedrooms, a couple of the empty ones especially, noting that they were--in fact--empty currently. The backyard was the last place to be shown, and compared to the front (which had a large, open space and rolling fields on the other side of the drive), the backyard had a swimming pool that looked like a giant pond and overlooked a deep running ravine overgrown with trees. At the foot, there was forest that spread on for miles.

JEREMIAH: Walking over to the pool, he crouched down and leaned over so that he could put his hand into the water. He loved swimming but it felt like it had been ages since the last time he'd gotten in any body of water.

SIGMUND: Even though it was getting cooler outside, Sigmund always kept the pool open as late as he could. There was also a creek running down below for winter dips though, even if it was far too cold for Sigmund to ever venture into. "All of this space is for our runs. There's a path down to the bottom, and lots of land to explore, animals to hunt." He spoke about the place like he loved it, because he did.

JEREMIAH: "The next time I am here can I go swimming?" he wasn't sure when that would be but he thought it was maybe still warm enough for him to get into the water if it was in the next week or two. It was getting cooler but he hoped it wouldn't be too cool to swim.

SIGMUND: "Yes, of course you can." Sigmund always automatically assumed that this place could be treated like home to any wolf. He was somewhat idealistic in that way. "And I'd like you to come for runs here when you can. We can teach you about your shift, safety, tricks, things like that."

JEREMIAH: "All right." Jeremiah trailed his fingers along the water again before he stood up and turned to follow after Sigmund, wherever they were going next. "Is it okay if Julian comes too?"

SIGMUND: Julian was the one Sigmund worried about the most. One, because he hadn't been able to visually check that he was all right. Two, because the way Jeremiah talked, he was treated more dubiously. "I'd like to meet him." He nodded, heading back into the house.

JEREMIAH: "Maybe the next time he comes for a shift you can. He's already been out here once to Ryland's house." He walked back to the house with Sigmund and went up on the porch and into the house.

SIGMUND: "You're both welcome here anytime. If I'm not here, there's usually someone around to let you in. They'll know you." Because Sigmund was going to make sure to tell each and every wolf who lived at the house to be kind to the brothers.

JEREMIAH: "Okay. Do you know what time Ryland was coming back to get me?" Not because he didn't like Sigmund but because he was a little bit anxious for some reason.

SIGMUND: "Soon, I imagine." He was going to have a hard time letting Jeremiah out of his sight and deep down, he was having a hard time not blaming Ryland for this whole ordeal--even if it was definitely not his fault.

JEREMIAH: "Dinner was very nice and so is your house but I miss my brother." He didn't like being away from Julian for very long and though he didn't get to see Julian as much as he wanted, the boy was at least in the same house as him when he was home.

SIGMUND: "I understand. I miss my brother when he's not around too." Even though often times it didn't seem like that because Logan was always getting into some sort of trouble. He smiled amiably and spoke again. "Should I call him to come pick you up?"

JEREMIAH: "Please." Jeremiah didn't want Sigmund to feel like he didn't want to be there, but he just started feeling weird when he was away from Julian for too long. Out of his comfort zone.

SIGMUND: He tried to picture what Jeremiah's face would look like if he suddenly said the boy wasn't going anywhere. Some would say that was the right thing to do, that and bust in to wrest Julian away from Adrien as well. But that wasn't exactly a guarantee that any injuries would be spared--quite the opposite. Nodding, he left to call Ryland. When he returned, he noted that the others were on their way.

JEREMIAH: When he said they were on their way Jeremiah just nodded and he toyed with the ends of his scarf, trying to settle himself down. "I don't know why I feel so anxious all of the sudden, I just do."

SIGMUND: Sigmund had been so wrapped up with his own internal dialog that he hadn't noticed Jeremiah's anxiety. Focusing on him, he tipped his head and reached out ever so gently with his wolf, stretching out the energy just to check on Jeremiah's status. One could never be to cautious; shifting in the car would be a disaster.

JEREMIAH: He wasn't anywhere near a shift, he didn't even really have the energy fori t, but he was anxious and juts kind of unsettled as he went from foot to foot.

SIGMUND: Relieved, Sigmund stepped closer to him, putting his hand on his shoulder and trying his best to steady him with his own relaxed state of being. "You're protective of him. That's good, don't ever lose that."

JEREMIAH: "I think he's very protective over me too. I would go anywhere Julian wanted to go or do anything he wanted to." Which meant if Julian ever decided to leave Aiden, Jeremiah would go with him.

SIGMUND: Taking note of that, Sigmund wondered if he could ever convince the other brother to pull Jeremiah away from the vampires. He'd give it time because that was all he really could give it. When the car showed up, Sigmund sent Jeremiah out with a fatherly pat on his back.

JEREMIAH: "Thank you for dinner." he said with a polite nod and then he wandered over and slid into the car with Ryland, hoping that the man would take him back to Aiden's right away.

Pirate, Kohl

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 16:37:24 GMT

Kohl was attacked at The Island, a local strip (and more) club. After being taken to the hospital, the circumstances were discovered by Sigmund, who stole him immediately to protect their secret. Pirate was charged with caring for the boy through his change, or his death.

BABY: The next time Kohl woke up, he was in a bed he didn't recognize. He barely remembered meeting Sigmund and he definitely didn't recall being taken by him and brought to the house. Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath and brought his fingers to his throat, feeling around for the scars he knew had to be there. He remembered part of the attack. He remembered all the blood. He remembered the pain. With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes again and glanced around the room, trying to figure out where he was and why he was there. He definitely wasn't in the hospital. But where was he?

PIRATE: Pirate had put Kohl in the sun room. He believed the rich sunlight that room got in the late afternoons would be good for his patient. Sigmund had put the weight of Kohl's care into Pi's hands because he'd been so vocal about going after the wolf who'd openly attacked a human in their town. Instead of letting Pirate rally the troops and going on a wild goose chase, Sigmund thought it better to keep him occupied with other things. It'd been awhile since Kohl had come to consciousness at all and Pirate got up out of his own bed the moment he sensed stirring. "How are you feeling?" He asked, not quite expecting a coherent answer, but willing to hope.

BABY: "Huh?" Kohl turned his head a little, struggling to focus his eyes on the other man in the room. "What..." he trailed off. His throat hurt and he was tired and it took a lot to keep his eyes open. He wondered who the person was and how they could possibly know him. He knew he had no ID on him the night of the attack and he'd overheard some of the nurses in the hospital referring to him as a John Doe when he was drifting in and out of consciousness. Pulling his eyes open again, he just stared at Pirate as best he could, trying to figure out who he was and what was going on.

PIRATE: No go on perfect coherancy, but that was to be expected. Kohl had no way of knowing where he was or really understanding what the hell had happened to him. "You were attacked. We brought you here to get better. The hospital--well, they really aren't equipped like we are. I'm Pirate." That might have been too much information, but it all needed said eventually, and there was so, so much more. "Do you think you can eat?"

BABY: Kohl managed to lift an eyebrow. Pirate? Really? Who was named Pirate? He actually looked like a Pirate too, oddly enough. The moustache...it was insane. Attempting to sit up a little, he coughed and sank back against the pillows. His head was pounding and he had no idea what was going on. "Attacked," he nodded. "I remember." He rubbed at his throat again and just looked at Pirate, shrugging in answer to the food question. "Do you...have a mirror?" He managed, desperately needing to see himself. He had horrible mental images of looking completely fucked up after the attack.

PIRATE: Standing there for a second, completely nonplussed by the question about a mirror, Pirate stared at Kohl. "Seriously? A mirror?" And so the judging began. The kid was lucky to be alive at all, and even luckier that Sigmund had found him before he turned, ran out of the hospital and got hit by a car or something. He hesitated to grant such a petty request, but eventually left the room for a second to bring back a mirror from the bathroom. He'd cleaned Kohl up, and his wounds were rather well healed already, so he didn't see any harm in it.

BABY: "Yeah," Kohl nodded the affirmative. He lay there quietly, waiting for this Pirate character to return with the mirror. When he handed it to him, Kohl snatched it as quickly as he could, running his hand over his neck and face. He was surprised that he didn't look completely mauled to death. Even though he wasn't able to remember all of what happened or what had attacked him exactly, he was expecting to look worse than he did. "Could be worse, I guess," he mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair before handing the mirror back to Pirate.

PIRATE: Pirate took it back, having a hard time not jerking it out of his hand. "Yeah, well, it'll get even better in time." He wondered if Kohl would run to a mirror after shifting to a wolf, if the soul of him would be vain and need to check to see if his fur was lying straight. It was almost an amusing thought if it didn't piss Pirate off. "What should I call you?" Because no name had been given to him.

BABY: "Baby," Kohl replied. He hadn't introduced himself by his given name in years. He had no family left to speak of and the few friends he had were in the business as well. He went by Baby and that was it. He ran a hand through his hair again and then looked up at Pirate, suddenly remembering his earlier question. "What kind of food? Do you have chocolate?" Chocolate was his favorite. But then, he realized he was in the mood for more. "And steak?" A steak sounded amazing even though he rarely ate meat on its own.

PIRATE: Being hungry was a good sign. Some people took the bite and that was it for them, their bodies couldn't handle the changes and they got sick and died. It was a fairly low survival rate, but this Baby kid seemed to be doing all right. Pirate knew better than to make fun of his name, even if he wanted to do so. Too many times he'd had those barbs turned right back onto him, thanks to his ridiculous parents and their naming choices. "Chocolate and steak." He repeated, nodding as if he was making a list in his head. "Anything else?"

BABY: "Pink lemonade," Baby said after a second. It was his favorite drink in the world and he rarely ever got the chance to have it. He still wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here. "Why am I here?" He asked after a second, finally managing to push himself into a sitting position.

PIRATE: Pirate opened and shut his mouth, figuring it was his own damn fault for asking. Playing nursemaid wasn't his cup of tea, even if he had a medical background as an EMT. "You're here because you need to be here. We can talk about it when I get back." There was no arguing with him on that because he'd already left the room and gone downstairs to get working on their guest's order. When he returned with the hodgepodge menu on a tray, Pirate pulled up a chair and sat next to Kohl's bed.

BABY: "I don't need to be," Baby wrinkled his nose as Pirate left the room. He sat quietly though by himself until the other man came back and looked over at him expectantly. His throat was still scratchy but he had so many questions to ask that he just ignored it. "Did you bring me here? Where are we? How long do I have to stay?" It wasn't that he had anywhere particularly amazing to get back to. The questions just came out on their own.

PIRATE: Pirate didn't answer right away because it was a control thing; he liked to have the power in any situation, a naturally dominant sort of person. Setting the tray down on Kohl's lap, Pirate leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Sigmund brought you here. We're in a farmhouse out in the country, and you have to stay for awhile. No--we're not a cult and no one's going to hack you into little pieces, so let's get that out of the way right now." Because from his answers, it rather seemed like something nefarious was going on. "You were attacked by someone with a condition, one that was passed on to you."

BABY: All of the color immediately drained from Kohl's face at the words and suddenly he wasn't as ravenous as he'd been just seconds earlier. "That fucker HAD AIDS?" His eyes were wide and in his line of business, they couldn't think of any condition worse than aids. Anything else was usually somehow treatable. "What the FUCK am I going to do? I used a condom every single fucking time..." he trailed off, starting to cough which made his throat hurt even more. He grabbed the pink lemonade and took a few sips. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Because really...who wanted to pay for sex with someone with such a...condition?

PIRATE: The wolf was glad he was sitting and he blinked a few times to clear his mind of that little outburst. He knew the jist of what Kohl did for a living--if one could call it that. The hospital records had shown where he'd been attacked. Still, it was perplexing to him that anyone would put themselves in a situation such as the one Kohl had put himself. "It isn't AIDS." Pirate said flatly. "It's nothing like that. In fact, you'll probably never get ill again."

BABY: "It isn't?" Kohl asked. "What is it then?" He slid the tray over onto the bed so that it wasn't on his legs anymore and he turned to fully face Pirate. "Fucking tell me what's going on," he demanded, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "How will I...never get ill again?" It was taking a lot out of him to sit up and talk. He hadn't realized how tired he was.

PIRATE: It was usually best to tell them when they were tired, still weak so that if there was flipping out to be done, it could be controlled. "Eat." He said with a tone that expected to be obeyed. "If you don't eat, I'm not going to tell you a thing more." It was vital for nutrients to be getting into the kid's system at this point and that was Pirate's first priority.

BABY: "You can't make me," Kohl replied, folding his skinny arms over his chest as he glared up at Pirate. "I don't want to eat. I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on around here and what....and what your real name is," he rubbed at his forehead, shaking his head a little. "Cause nobody is named Pirate."

PIRATE: If this was going to be a stubborn-off, Pirate had every intention of winning. Setting his jaw, he leaned forward and glared at Kohl. "My real name is Pirate Lasage. My parents thought it was funny, okay? Your named Baby and you can't accept my name is Pirate?" He stood up, pushing the tray back onto the kid's lap. "Eat and I'll tell you. Don't eat and I'm going to go watch TV."

BABY: "Baby isn't my real name," Kohl scoffed as if Pirate was positively retarded for assuming such a thing. "And I will eat something if you just open your fucking mouth and start explaining what the shit is going on around here," he demanded, setting the tray stubbornly back on the bed. "And if you don't...I'll leave," he threatened, knowing that Pirate and this Sigmund must want him to stay here if he'd gone to the trouble of bringing him here.

PIRATE: He had to grit his teeth because the fact that Baby wasn't his real name had stung a little. Pirate was stuck with Pirate. When Sigmund had used the term 'taking the kid under your wing,' Pirate had interrpreted it loosely as 'don't kill him.' That was being tested at the moment. "Good luck trying to walk." Kohl would have a difficult time making it all the way downstairs, and then where the hell was he going to go? "Not to mention, you're in the middle of nowhere."

BABY: "Well...fuck you. How about that?" Kohl replied, showing both of his middle fingers to Pirate. He was pissed and confused and really didn't feel well at all and as he rolled his eyes, they landed on the chocolate bar that was sitting on his tray. He snatched it indignantly and tore the wrapper open, chomping right into it, because he wanted to. Not because Pirate told him to.

PIRATE: Taking almost no joy--almost--in this quasivictory, Pi sat himself back down. "Some people are born with this condition and some people are," he hated to use the word 'infected' "--well they get it from someone who has it. It's genetic, as far as any research has been done on it." Which wasn't much, considering. Some people thought it was a curse, and even Pirate had to admit that there were some aspects of it that seemed inexplicable and magical. "Over the next few days you're going to experience a heightening of your senses, mostly smell and hearing. You're going to be hungry. Eventually, you'll experience a significant change. You're a werewolf now--do you know that that is?"

BABY: Baby sat there indignantly chomping on his chocolate bar while he listened to Pirate speak. He mostly followed him up until he got to the word werewolf and then he just laughed a little. "What? Is that the best you can fucking do? Are you just trying to make me feel better about having aids?" Because he was still convinced that was what he had. He tossed the wrapper down onto the bed cover and set about licking each of his fingers clean, all the while still managing a half pout/half glare at Pirate.

PIRATE: Disbelief was better than panic, and he offered a shrug. "A day or so before you shift you'll feel strange. Hours before you'll get hot, itchy. I'm not going to lie to you--it's going to hurt." The first time Pirate had shifted, he'd passed out from the pain before the shift was complete. It was something that embarassed him immensely and he didn't talk about it. "I'll be here to help you." He kept on as if Kohl hadn't even said anything.

BABY: "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Kohl asked, just staring at Pirate as if he'd sprouted a second head. "You really think I fucking believe you? You're nuts. Where's this Sigmund guy who brought me here? When do I get to see that guy. Maybe he won't bullshit me," he pouted impossibly harder and looked over at the steak. He was awfully hungry...but maybe there was another way to torture Pirate. "I don't feel good," he murmured. "Cut my steak for me."

PIRATE: The growl that came out of his throat was not quite human. This kid was going to be the end of him, or at least of his sanity. This was definitely a punishment and he wondered if Sigmund had known exactly what he was doing. Reaching forward, he took the steak and the fork and cut it that way, the force of his hand strong enough to tear through the meat without a knife. When it was in little bits, he put it back at Kohl. "What is your real name then?"

BABY: "What makes you think I'd tell you that?" Kohl asked, pulling the plate of steak onto his lap. He took the fork into his hand and started to eat it, bite by bite. "Nobody knows it. What makes you think you're so special? You aren't even being truthful with me...just talkin' all this crazy shit," he said around his mouthful of food. He already felt better than when he'd woken up and he could feel himself getting stronger as he ate.

PIRATE: "You are the most annoying person on the face of the planet." It wasn't a very mean insult, but it was laced with all the venom Pirate could manage. He was exasperated with the other, and the thought of having to take him through his first shift was almost too much to bear. But he'd been given a duty, and it was an important one, so he would carry it out. "I'll just have to call you Baby then."

BABY: "Uh yeah...you and everyone else. Like I care. It's the name I picked," Kohl replied, rolling his eyes again. The insult kind of made him laugh on the inside. "You are a weirdo, captain," he told him, settling on that new nickname for Pirate. He didn't want to be too horribly mean and call him first mate or something.

PIRATE: Perhaps it would be satisfying to watch every bone in Kohl's body break to reform into a wolf. "There's a bathroom down the hall if you need it. I sleep in the room through that doorway." Really this whole room was his room, but they'd set up the sunroom as another bedroom because it was big enough. He didn't say a word about the nickname, because if he outright said not to use it, Baby would probably only use it more. "And why would you pick such a ridiculous name for yourself?"

BABY: "Pirate is way more stupid than Baby," Kohl replied, still eating his pieces of steak. "And it's a name from my favorite movie of all time. Dirty Dancing. Have you seen it? It's really the best. All the dancing and the music? It's so sexy." The shitty attitude was dropped and a look of pure joy and excitement crossed his face when he was talking about his favorite movie. "You should stay in here, captain," he added, thinking that maybe Pirate was talking about the other room because he planned on leaving.

PIRATE: The request for him to stay took him by surprise. "If I'm a weirdo, then why would you want me to hang out in here more? I'm sure you could think quietly to yourself about the movie masterpiece." It was clear Pirate didn't hold Dirty Dancing in the same regard as Baby did. "Look, I'm telling you the truth, and I can prove it in a couple days when you shift. After that, maybe you'll be a little less obnoxious." Though he wasn't going to bet the house on it.

BABY: "Because even though you're a weirdo, you're the only weirdo around here," Baby replied, finishing off the steak. He picked up the pink lemonade and finished it off before holding the tray back out to Pirate. "I don't want to be a werewolf or whatever," he said quietly, wondering if what Pirate said could possibly be true. "I just want to leave." He didn't really. He had nowhere else to go but he didn't want Pirate to know that.

PIRATE: "Well at least you don't have AIDS." He said quickly, smirking and taking the tray to set it on the table. Making no move to leave, even if he'd been planning to do so before, he crossed one leg over the other and leaned back comfortably in the chair. He had a commanding presence, though it wasn't the sort of calm aire Sigmund carried with him. "So--what exactly was it that you did at The Island?" Maybe he was just a dancer.

BABY: "Does it matter, captain?" Baby asked, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't entirely sure that he believed what Pirate had been saying, as he was still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing. "I did whatever needed doin," he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. It kind of bothered him that Pirate was sitting over there. Anyone else would have been on top of him already and he was just used to that kind of affection. Even the few boys he considered friends usually cuddled him at the least, usually fucked him at the most. "Come sit with me," he said, giving Pirate his best pouty face and big eyes as he patted the spot beside him. Pirate wasn't totally unfortunate looking after all, just annoying, and maybe Baby could ignore that if the older man kept his mouth shut.

PIRATE: Arching one brow almost comically high, Pirate shook his head. "I'm just fine over here." Even if the big eyes were rather pretty, he had an easy time resisting because he simply didn't think in those terms. Plus, doing the opposite of what Baby wanted was kind of satisfying at this point. "And yeah, it matters. There's a difference between waiting tables and some of the other shit that goes on there."

BABY: "Come over here and I'll tell you," Baby said, scooting over so that he was pressed up against the wall and there was plenty of room for Pirate. It was very very rare that Baby wasn't able to charm someone into giving him what he wanted.

PIRATE: Like any wolf, Pirate had a certain affinity for touch, especially that of his own kind. It was healthy, and healing, and the energy exchange was soothing in most cases. But the way Baby was moving, so willfully alluring, made it seem a little fake, practiced. He was sure the other was very talented. "Will we be bargaining for the rest of the time we know each other?"

BABY: "Will you be such an insufferable twat for the rest of the time we know each other?" Baby replied, trailing his fingers over the empty space. He'd heard one of the girls call another one that phrase at one point and it had become one of his favorites. It bothered him how much he was craving contact and that Pirate was his only option at the moment but he was prepared to make do.

PIRATE: "Yes." That answer was a no-brainer for him and he replied with the first note of blitheness that had been heard from him all day. His eyes watched Baby's fingers over the space and the movement was inviting. After a few seconds he sighed and stood up, acting as if he was very pained to do this. Putting his knees to the bed, he scooted over onto it and offered Baby a 'there-happy?' look.

BABY: "You are a douche," Baby said plainly, waiting until Pirate got situated. It made him really happy that he'd gotten his way after all and he sighed with content, feeling full and sort of tired and still not so great all at the same time. Sliding an arm around Pirate's waist, he buried his face in the older man's side.

PIRATE: Gut jerking warmly at the touch, Pirate frowned and put his hand on his stomach. He was probably just hungry. His wolf rolled over on itself somewhere in the back of his brain, sensing the beginnings of Baby's change, his first steps to becoming the same as Pirate. "Yeah, well it's better than being a frivolous child." Still, his arm found its way around Baby's shoulders.

BABY: Lifting his head, a tiny insulted growl tore from Baby's throat. He hadn't even realized it was going to happen until it already came and went. Then he just poked Pirate in the side and put his head back down, his arm tightening around the other man's waist. He was still certain he didn't believe all the werewolf nonsense and hoped he'd be able to figure shit out once he was feeling better.

PIRATE: That growl made Pirate smile, and the smile grew into an all out grin, but only because he was certain Kohl couldn't see it. This one was going to be strong, Pi could already feel it in his arms and hear it in the chastising growl that had come from him. A challenge, something infuriating he liked that.

BABY: As much as Baby didn't want to fall asleep, he could feel his body starting to do things without his permission. His eyes fell closed and he just nuzzled closer to Pirate. He would never have admitted it but he liked the way Pirate smelled and the way it felt to have his arm around him. Then he just gave in and finally let his body drift off to sleep, pressed up against Pirate.

PIRATE: Staying there for awhile after Baby had drifted off, he wondered what chance had gotten him into, the whole pack for that matter. Carefully, he extracted himself from Baby, lying him down on the bed and covering him up. Sleep was the best thing for him, allowing his body a chance to acclimate. Eventually, he shut off the light and took the tray downstairs.

Sigmund, Brennan

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 09:24:12 GMT

SIGMUND: Sigmund didn't mind doing things like this. In fact, he rather liked all of the energy he could find on the college campus, especially among the freshman class because everything was new and exciting to them. In the large auditorium, Sigmund had his table set up, information about the newspaper he worked for and even a little poster about the different uses for a journalism degree. It was nice to feel normal, rather than dealing with pack issues.

BRENNAN: Brennan slunk into the room, his regulation sticky nametag stuck to the bottom of his shirt instead of the top where it belonged. He tried to hide in the middle of the pack of freshmen he came in with but they were all so eager to see everything, they quickly dispersed and left him standing there near Sigmund's table. Pulling his sidekick out, he went over to lean against the wall and text message his girlfriend until he figured he'd been there long enough that he could leave.

SIGMUND: A few students hit Sigmund's table first and he gave them the schpiel he'd practiced. They seem interested enough and he was glad to have helped them. Truely, he loved his job because it allowed him to immerse himself in the human world. He didn't hate being a werewolf, he was born one, but he had a profound respect for humans, a fascination with them and their lives. When a lull came to his booth, his eyes flicked around the auditorium, examining the people in it. He liked trying to read body language, like some modern day anthropologist, collecting data on a peculiar tribe. When he saw Brennan, it was easy to see that the kid didn't want to be here. Getting up, Sigmund headed toward him. "Hey, it's a shame to waste all this, you know. Unless you were born to do something?" Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall amiably. "Got a job lined up already?"

BRENNAN: "Uh...what?" Brennan's ears turned bright red as he realized he'd not only been noticed but caught. "No...I, um," he stammered, shrugging his shoulders. "My counselor made me come to this. I don't know what I want to do but I don't think that running around with a bunch of freshmen is going to help," he said , kind of looking Sigmund up and down. Who was this guy to think he could just come over here and start interrogating him? "Im just taking a bunch of different classes. I work too..." Everyone always assumed he was lazy just because he hadn't picked a major.

SIGMUND: "You're not a freshman?" Sigmund had assumed the kid was and he made a curious face. His eyes didn't have to move much to take the whole of Brennan in. Mostly, his sense of smell was what told him the most about a person and he had to smile a little at the burst of embarassment that came off of him. "Where do you work?" He had no problem being nosy; it was in both of his job descriptions as a reporter and a pack leader.

BRENNAN: "No," Brennan scowled. "Do I really look eighteen, man?" He asked, looking Sigmund over again. He sighed then, shaking his head a little as if the older man had somehow committed some great offense by assuming he was a freshman. "And I work at the smoothie place in the mall," he added. "I'm the assistant manager." And he took full time hours at school as well.

SIGMUND: The scowl made Sigmund laugh a little and he shook his head. "I just didn't think they made upperclassmen come to these things. You must be pretty scattered for your counselor to be so worried." He supposed it was fair enough though, to be scattered in college. Sigmund had always known what he wanted to do when he got older, but it was much safer in the world of wolves to be the decisive sort. "You're not even going to pretend to be interested? The rebel thing been workin' out for you?"

BRENNAN: Looking a tad bit affronted, Brennan glanced down at the ground then, not really wanting to meet Sigmund's eyes. It wasn't that he fancied himself a rebel. He really just wanted to do his own thing without being harassed by everyone. So what if he didn't know what major to choose? Who said you had to graduate in exactly four years, right? He was so irritated by Sigmund's attitude that he decided he was allowed to have one right back. "Would you like to give me your little speech, man?" He asked, finally looking back up at him. "Would that make you feel better? Here, I'll even come stand over at your table and pretend to look interested at the materials." With that, he shoved off the wall and walked over to the booth, picking up one of the leaflets that Sigmund had laid out.

SIGMUND: Sigmund followed him, sitting back down in his spot. He didn't look perturbed by Brennan's attitude in the least, having grown accustomed to the various youthful tantrums people that age tended to throw. "I'm Sigmund Lewis." He said after a moment, wishing they could just start over again. "I was just striking up conversation and trying to be encouraging. But I'm sure you get plenty of that."

BRENNAN: Brennan sighed. It wasn't in his nature to be a total dick. He was just frustrated that he'd had to attend this function in the first place and had skipped a day of work to do so. That was $. that he was missing out on in favor of standing here, talking to this Sigmund Lewis. "I'm Brennan Anwyll," he finally said, holding out a hand in the older man's direction. "I'm not a loser. I don't do drugs. I'm not lazy. I just don't know what I want my major to be and I don't know why everyone is freaking out about it."

SIGMUND: "It's their job to freak out about it. What do your parents say?" He could have been a counselor with the amount of ease he found asking people vaguely personal questions. He was relaxed, leaning back in the chair and watching Brennan's reactions. Sigmund was there because he liked helping people, and if he could help one kid be able to follow their passion for journalism, then he considered himself completely successful.

BRENNAN: "My parents?" Brennan repeated. "I don't know what they say. I don't talk to him." His college education was being funded by a trust set up by his late grandfather. He hadn't any contact with his parents in years. His mother had passed away and his father was far too much of a workaholic at his job as the chief of staff at the hospital.

SIGMUND: Sigmund nodded. Even if he felt the beginnings of embarrassment from asking that question (given the answer) he didn't show it. He did, however, sit up a bit straighter. "Well, worse comes to worse, you'll just close your eyes and point at a major. No harm in that really. Most people don't even use their undergraduate majors."

BRENNAN: "Then why do they even have one?" Brennan asked, running a hand through his hair. "What's the point of getting a degree in something you won't use?" He lifted the paper a little higher, actually looking at it for a second to see what Sigmund was all about.

SIGMUND: It was his resume, typed out neatly and referencing a few awards he'd won in the field as well as his school history, and work history. He wanted kids to have an example of what a typical career path looked like. "Because humans like to categorize each other." He used the word 'humans' and it felt wrong on his lips because it made him seem more like an outsider. He moved on, hoping Brennan didn't think it was odd.

BRENNAN: Brennan just kind of looked at Sigmund and then continued to glance over the resume. "So...you're a journalist, huh? What kind of stories do you write? I took a few journalism classes but my professors said I was too longwinded and used too many details. I guess I just don't get to the point quick enough," he shrugged, glancing around at the other students whom Brennan deemed 'much younger' than himself.

SIGMUND: "Local stuff, education pieces, public interest." It was softcore journalism to be sure. Sigmund hadn't broken a big story in years and years, and sometimes that bothered him, but he knew his career didn't exactly come first these days. "Well at least you've narrowed your future job down by one. What sorts of things do you like? Other than smooties, I imagine."

BRENNAN: "I don't know what I like," Brennan shrugged. "I like history classes." But he didn't figure it was very smart to go for a history degree. What would he do with that? What would he do with any degree? He'd taken a few history classes but then, he'd taken a few classes in everything. "I like kids," he shrugged.

SIGMUND: Since it was clear how much Sigmund was focusing on Brennan, no one else deemed to bother them. "There's an archives position open at the paper. They need someone to input all of the old papers into the computer database. Sometimes I'll go down there and just read all of the old stories way back from the s." Sigmund was a bit of a nerd, but he figured if Brennan liked history, it was safe to share that with him.

BRENNAN: "Oh?" Brennan replied, wondering why Sigmund was telling him this. It wasn't like he had a ton of extra free time to devote to a second job, but then..."How much does it pay?" He asked, wondering if it paid more than his dollars an hour at the smoothie shop and how many hours a week it would be. Looking at old papers and reading old stories did sound pretty interesting, not that Brennan wanted to admit that.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had to think about it. He'd seen the job posted, and they'd really been trying to get someone in the position. Someone who was young enough to even care about computer technology. Their old archivist had quit, angrily storming out when it was announced the system was getting upgraded. "Well it's for a head of the department, so I figure around or an hour." It was a tough job, and Sigmund was sure there were many ins and outs to it he didn't understand, but it never seemed like horrible work.

BRENNAN: " or ...DOLLARS?" Brennan's jaw just kind of dropped after that. "That's...insane." He'd never had a job where he made more than he did right now. Eight dollars was pretty good for him, actually. He managed to pay half the rent of an apartment with his best friend and pay for other incidentals. The one thing good about the smoothie shop was all the free smoothies he wanted which meant he didn't have to worry about a lot of meals. "It sounds like a good job," he said finally, looking at Sigmund again. He didn't want to look too interested or enthused but it was hard to hide the fact that he was.

SIGMUND: Sigmund didn't think the smoothie place paid all that much, so he wasn't surprised when the wage ellicited such a response. "If you like history, it might at least be an interesting job. I think it's - hours a week though, would you have enough time with school?" Clearly Sigmund had brought the job up in hopes that it would interest Brennan and now his questions turned more fully in that direction.

BRENNAN: "Oh, yeah. School isn't hard for me," Brennan told him. He wasn't trying to brag or anything, just stating facts. Brennan was a really good bullshitter. He didn't care about making A's, he just cared about passing. And if he could make a B or a C in a class without putting forth much effort, he would do so. "I work at the smoothie shop that much," he offered, looking up at Sigmund again. The excitement was practically visible in his eyes.

SIGMUND: Liking very much that something he'd said sparked interest and excitement in Brennan, Sigmund looked a little triumphant. "Well, then you should apply. Call Rick." He scribbled down a number on a slip of paper. "And I'll tell him to expect your call." Sigmund wasn't the highest up on the ladder, or anything, but people liked him at the newspaper, and they listened to his opinion. A good word from him was worth a lot.

BRENNAN: "Oh...wow, really?" Brennan smiled, reaching out for the slip of paper. "Thanks, man...that's really great of you," he said, running his free hand through his hair. "I'll call him." He stuffed the paper safely into his front pocket and smiled a little more at Sigmund. "If I, um...if I can do anything for you, let me know," he said, feeling immediately stupid because really, what could he possibly do for Sigmund?

SIGMUND: "No, it's okay. If you get the job I'll probably be seeing you around the office anyway. Maybe I'll be in desperate need of a coffee someday." Had this been for selfish reasons? Well, as selfish as it was to enjoy hooking someone up with a nice job. When he could do something tangible for another person, he felt useful.

BRENNAN: "Yeah? Okay," Brennan nodded, looking around the room. He still didn't really feel like looking at any of the other booths or displays but he figured he ought to at least humor the person who could responsible for hooking him up with an amazing job. "I guess I'll go have a look around then," he said, holding his hand back out toward Sigmund to say goodbye for now.

SIGMUND: Sigmund nodded, waving back at him. Brennan seemed like an interesting kid, someone that either needed someone to take him under his wing, or completely be left alone. Even though Sigmund bet it was the later with this one, he'd still keep tabs on him.

BRENNAN: Brennan nodded again and took a few steps away, glancing at Sigmund one more time before turning his back completely and walking through the aisle of exhibits. There was something odd about Sigmund that made Brennan keep stealing glances at the older man. Finally shrugging it off, he headed away, attempting to put Sigmund out of his head for the time being.

Fairfax, Shannon, Malcolm

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 02:57:19 GMT

FAIRFAX: Fairfax had managed to get Shannon into the room he'd prepared for him. It would be safe in there through the day. He'd called in sick to work too, and the office just about had a heart attack because Fairfax never got sick or missed work. It might have seemed suspicious with Shannon missing and all, but Fairfax didn't have a choice. He was sure Malcolm would take care of tying up loose ends so no one looked for any of them. The following night, Fairfax had entered the room before Shannon was awake and sat close to him on the bed.

SHANNON: When Shannon woke he was startled by the terrible hunger he was feeling. And then he remembered what happened and he groaned as he turned over onto his side. The boy's hand went to his throat and he covered the smooth skin that had been torn away so violently the night before. There wasn't even a scar in it's wake, just smooth and untainted skin. Shannon could feel the overwhelming lightness coming off of Fairfax but he did his best to ignore it.

FAIRFAX: Breathing a sigh of relief when Shannon woke up, Fairfax was back to being happy about his decision. Maybe it would be difficult, but Shannon was alive, and out of the hospital, and above all--with him. "How do you feel?" It had to be his first question; Fairfax didn'tk now thing one about being a vampire.

SHANNON: "Hungry. Cold." Shannon didn't look at Fairfax. He couldn't bring himself to even lift his head up yet. Being a vampire for the past twenty hours or so had been traumatic for him and he just ewanted to curl up and die. "Leave me alone." He didn't want Fairfax there any longer. The overwhelming feeling of light coming off of him was almost painful because he felt so dark.

FAIRFAX: "No, you need food. Malcolm told me you needed food." And he'd got bloodbags from the hospital in case Malcolm didn't show up to take Shannon hunting. Tugging one from the little fridge in the room, he fed the tub into a mug. "Come on, sit up." He slipped his hand beneath Shannon's back, trying to lift him upwards.

SHANNON: "Keep off me." Shannon tried to tug himself free from Fairfax's grasp but he wasn't used to his new found strength and just about toppled right off of the side of the bed. "Don't." He snapped.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax wasn't as strong and it became clear very quickly that he wasn't going to be able to make Shannon do anything. Sighing, he offered the mug of blood. It was cold, and he couldn't imagine that was a good thing, but it was what they had at the moment. The smell of it was faint to Fairfax.

SHANNON: Taking the mug, the smell of the blood was too overwhelming to pass up. He took a sip and then spit it back into the mug because it was cold and that surprised him. After a second though it was too much to resist and he swallowed down the contents of the mug in a few greedy gulps.

FAIRFAX: Malcolm's voice came from the other room and Fairfax jerked with surprise. "In here." He said shortly, getting up to open the door. His apartment was dark now, so there was no danger of sunlight getting inside. Flicking on the lights of the room, he examined the dull glow of Malcolm's skin and his smug face as he tugged in a bewildered looking girl. "Who's that?" Fairfax frowned and Malcolm shook his head. "It doesn't matter who this is."

SHANNON: Shannon was currently trying to lick the inside of the cup clean and when he saw Malcolm come in, tugging a girl behind him, his face soured. Being killed by the man the night before had obviously left him feeling less than friendly toward the man. "What do you want?"

FAIRFAX: Laughing coldly, he pushed the girl forward. "Not what I want--what do you want?" He'd drugged her, for one, so she was terribly pliable, not to mention her blood would do Shannon some calming good. The way she smelled was infinitely sweet and she covered her mouth when she laughed, even though she didn't know what they were all laughing about.

SHANNON: When she was close enough he could smell the blood coursing through her and it made his eyes go dark with bloodlust. Crawling to the end of the bed he watched her, waiting for her to get close enough. His body had gone into instinct mode at the smell of her and when she finally reached the bed he pulled her down.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax had nightmares--not everything about him was trash bin boats and flowers, so he knew what was coming. But to see Shannon take down a human being with such perfect precision made him clench his jaw. Still, he watched with wide eyes and Malcolm looked terribly pleased with the whole ordeal. "He's quite willing, isn't he? Definitely not what I expected your tastes to be, Fairfax."

SHANNON: Shannon bit the girl, his teeth sinking into her throat. He made a bit of a mess as he drew his fangs back and then he sucked at the wound he'd made, drinking down as much of her as he could. When he finally had every last drop of her he pulled back. The sight of her cold and limp body made his stomach heave and he gagged. Pulling away quickly he fell off of the bed and onto the floor.

FAIRFAX: Refusing to draw away, Fairfax stayed put, figuring that Malcolm would know what to do. "Open the window." Malcolm barked, pointing at the heavy curtains. Some fresh air would do the new vampire good, even if he didn't need to breathe it anymore. Fairfax obeyed and a crisp breeze wafted into the room.

SHANNON: Shannon continued heaving, trying to reject the blood, but his body wouldn't stand for it. After several long moments he ended up face down on the floor. He would have been panting if it weren't for his lack of need for oxygen. When he was finally calmed down he turned over and looked up at the two men.

FAIRFAX: They were like night and day, the two of them staring down at Shannon. Fairfax had no expression, not judging or horrified, just there. Malcolm pretended to yawn. "The bloodbags were a cute idea, and they'll get him by--but don't expect him to be safe if he isn't kept full." Not for awhile anyway.

SHANNON: Honestly, Shannon wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and sob over how everything had turned out. Maybe this was hell and he hadn't been good enough to get in to heaven, he wasn't sure. "I don't want to be like this." He said, pressing his face down against his forearms. "I can't be like this."

FAIRFAX: "Well you are like this." Malcolm said with slight indignation, bending down to grab Shannon and stand him up. "You're beautiful, and powerful, and immortal. That's what everyone wants--stop bitching."

SHANNON: "It wasn't what I wanted." Standing upright, he wrapped his arms around his own narrow waist and frowned. "I hate you." He said to Malcolm, his voice shaking with fear but not much hate at all.

FAIRFAX: "That's all right with me." He offered a languid shrug. "I'm not the one who cares if you hate him." Malcolm walked smoothly to where Fairfax was standing and pointed down at him. "He's that one. I'm the one who's going to teach you how to be what you are now."

SHANNON: "I don't want you to teach me, id rather die." Shannon didn't care if he was being a baby or dramatic. This was the last thing he had expected to happen and he hated it. Hated that he was a monster. If anything he would have wanted to be like Fairfax. Light and warm.

FAIRFAX: The very first spark of true annoyance washed over Malcolm's face and he looked at Fairfax. "That can be arranged, Shannon. It can be arranged that both of you die. Right now." He put his hands on his hips.

SHANNON: "You can't kill Fairfax." The threat made him start to feel anxious and he started shaking, his eyes going dark. "You can't kill him!" he practically screamed. The frenzy took a hold of him and he launched himself at Malcolm, trying to take him down.

FAIRFAX: The spite welling up in his progeny was exhilerating and perhaps Malcolm had made a far better deal than he'd even imagined. When his back hit the floor with a thud, he brought his arms up deftly to grapple with Shannon, capturing his wrists and holding them away from him. "Now, now. He's the one that wanted this for you."

SHANNON: Instead of trying to fight with his hands he started snapping at Malcolm with his teeth, coming very close to biting him on more than one occasion but he always narrowly missed. When the frenzy slowed to a stop he just looked confused. Unsure of what had happened or how he ended up on the floor.

FAIRFAX: The look of confusion made Malcolm relax, releasing the boy and climbing out gracefully from underneath him. Brushing himself off, he considered leaving, having very little sense of obligation left to either one of them. "I'll come back in a couple weeks to begin collecting my fee, Fairfax." Fairfax nodded, glancing at Shannon briefly.

SHANNON: Shannon stayed on his forearms on the ground, feeling humiliated and confused. He waited until Malcolm was gone before looking up at Fairfax. "How could you trade your life away for this? You killed yourself to turn me into a monster."

FAIRFAX: "I'm not going to be killed." He said, surprised. That would have defeated the whole purpose of keeping Shannon around. Was that what Shannon though? He went to sit next to him. "Don't hate me, please? You're not a monster. I've seen monsters and you're not one of them. I promise."

SHANNON: "I killed that girl." He said, frowning as he looked up at the bed. "Her life for mine. How is that fair?" it wasn't, it just wasn't. And he was horrified to think he might do it again.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax turned his attentions to her and instead of the lifeless form she had, he let her look as if she was just sleeping happily. Eventually, her presence drifted from the room entirely and she just wasn't there anymore to be seen. "Killing to survive isn't wrong. And--I've heard you don't even have to kill them. There are places, people that make it so you don't have to kill."

SHANNON: "It is wrong. I would have rather died than kill someone." He walked over tothe bed and he put his hands down on it, touching the girl that Fairfax had tried to make invisible with his magic. "I killed her, she had more to live for than I did." Because Fairfax didn't know him, they weren't family. He just didn't understand why they were here. How they had gotten to this point.

FAIRFAX: "You didn't even know her. She was just some girl, probably some stupid hooker or something." Fairfax was growing tired, and he stood up to gather up the girl's body. How in the hell he was supposed to dispose of it, he didn't know, but he would bury it in the park later. Putting it into the bathroom, he shut the door on it for now.

SHANNON: Shannon sank down on the end of the bed and just sat there, feeling hopeless. It wouldn't be long before Fairfax realized his mistake and just left him behind like everyone else in his life had. And then he would be alone and undead and unsure of everything, where as he'd been so sure before.

FAIRFAX: "Are you still hungry?" Fairfax got bold, realizing that it would have to be he who helped Shannon through this. He would simply have to learn what it meant to be a vampire.

SHANNON: "Yes." Uncomfortably so. Though he hoped that it would go away now that he had fed. That was what happened when vampires fed right? They didn't feel hungry anymore? "is it always going to be like this?"

FAIRFAX: "Your body is going through a lot. I think it's just going to need quite a bit for awhile." Then, perhaps when things evened out, Shannon wouldn't be quite so ravenous. It would piss Malcolm off, what Fairfax was about to do, but that made it all the more reason to do it. Taking a letter opener from the bedside table, Fairfax, without thinking, dug it into his arm.

SHANNON: The smell of fairie blood filled the air and he snapped his head in the direction of Fairfax's arm. Within seconds he was on him, mouth locked around the wound on his arm as he tongued it and then sucked blood into his mouth. It was sweet, rich. Richer than the girl's had been or the blood from the bag. Shannon literally started glowing and he started to feel heady and light.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax had never let a vampire feed from him, though he'd seen it done by other fae who'd gotten down on their luck. It was terrifying and not only did it feel like his blood was being stolen, it felt like his soul was going along with it. As long as he could stand it, Fairfax stood, then slowly sunk to the ground, arm lying up on the bed where Shannon fed. "Shannon." Fairfax croaked.

SHANNON: Shannon drank another few long gulps before he pulled away and rolled onto his back on the bed. He was sighing softly, pushing the air out of his lungs just on habit. He licked his lips and then his fingers, getting all of the blood off of them.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax rolled over onto the floor and blinked up at the ceiling so that he could get his bearings again. It had felt good, actually, of all things. Being that close to Shannon, feeding him, it made him give a shudder.

SHANNON: Moaning, he rolled over onto his stomach and just buried his head against the pillows. It smelled like Fairfax and he really liked that. The feeling of the faerie's blood in his body was electric and he was tingling.

FAIRFAX: When he finally felt like he could stand, Fairfax climbed up onto the bed, noting the way Shannon's aura was rolling over him in rich red and gold hues. Sitting there on his knees, he stared down at Shannon. "There's a club were my friend works. It's a strip joint, but the girls make money on the side by donating. And I can always get more bloodbags from the hospital."

SHANNON: "Oh god. It feels so good." Meaning Fairfax's blood. It made him feel alive again in a new way and he was shivering as he laid there. "You tasted good."

FAIRFAX: As bizarre as that was, Fairfax grinned a little proudly and he tilted his head. "Yeah?" He'd never had the occassion to taste himself before and he looked down at his arm which was doing a fair job of healing from a mixture of his own durability and Shannon's saliva.

SHANNON: Turning over slowly, Shannon's skin was still glowing with stolen magic. He ran his hands up over his face and he pushed his glasses up and away from his eyes so that he could rub them.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax couldn't help but just keep staring and his shoulders relaxed. "Wow," he said breathlessly. Shannon looked like the moon visiting Fairfax's bed. "We should go for a walk outside."

SHANNON: "All right." Turning over onto his side, he started to sit upright so that he could look over at Fairfax. Shannon was high and he moved closer to Fairfax to press his face against the other boy's chest and then up to his throat. "You smell wonderful."

FAIRFAX: He'd be lying if he said that didn't feel really good. Fairfax, however, was used to doing the pursuing when he found something he wanted. He had all the charming little tricks, and none of them included becoming a blood donor, or stealing boys out of hospitals. Putting a hand against Shannon's chest, Fairfax frowned. "Thanks."

SHANNON: "Why are you frowning?" That made Shannon frown and he felt like maybe he had done something wrong. "I'm sorry, I ddidn't ask you for this, I didn't ask to be this."

FAIRFAX: "I know it's my fault." Fairfax snapped suddenly. "Okay? Are you going to say that everytime something happens? You're just drunk right now. Marlowe says that can happen when you--when you drink from my kind."

SHANNON: When Fairfax snapped on him he recoiled and just hunched his shoulders up. Yes, he was drunk, but that didn't mean he couldn't be hurt. And the tone of voice that Fairfax was using hurt him, even if the other didn't mean for it. Backing up off of the bed he just shook his head and he got up to go to the door.

FAIRFAX: Perhaps nearly dead people were easier to get along with than undead people. Fairfax sighed and went to catch up after him. "You just make me want to take advantage of you, is all. Try to convince you that even in the middle of all this kissing me would be a good idea." He smiled his most charming smile and he stood in front of Shannon, blocking his way out the door. "Come on, I'll show you my park."

SHANNON: "I don't want to go to the park anymore." Yes, Shannon realized that he was probably up and down too quickly to make this easy on Fairfax at all but his emotions were running on high and everything he was feeling felt like it was amplified by a million times. "I feel like I'm going to burst into little pieces."

FAIRFAX: Fairfax put his hand out, touching it against Shannon's upper arm. "You won't break apart. What do you want to do? Name it and we'll do it."

SHANNON: Shannon wrapped his arms tightly around Fairfax's shoulders and he buried his face against the side of his neck. "I just want you to hold onto me for a little while, can we do that? Can we just stand here or maybe lay here?"

FAIRFAX: "Yeah, yeah we can do that." It was a perfectly solid agenda for the evening. Sitting down on the bed, Fairfax curled his feet up underneath him and held onto Shannon.

SHANNON: Shannon just leaned against him, arms wrapped tightly around the other boy. "I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful." he was thankful that he was still alive but he didn't want to be alive like this. Maybe he'd get used to it, he was willing to give it a try if it meant keeping Fairfax happy.

FAIRFAX: "Don't be sorry. I should have found another way, but I didn't have time." There had to be something he could have done himself, some sort of magic that was old as time itself.

SHANNON: "Is there anyway to take it away?" he asked, meaning being a vampire. There had to be some way to reverse it, right? Does this mean I am never going to die. Malcolm said eternity, I can't be alive for that long."

FAIRFAX: "Don't worry about all of that stuff now." Fairfax said soothingly. There was no point delving into the whole lore of vampirism just then.

SHANNON: Nodding, Shannon just laid his head down against his shoulder and he closed his eyes. He liked that he finally felt warm again. Being dead was cold and Fairfax had warmed him up.

Fairfax, Malcolm, Shannon

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 19:53:37 GMT

FAIRFAX: Shannon had fallen asleep on him the night he visited. Fairfax had sat there for a long time, just watching him sleep, thinking about how short the human lifespan was and how unfair it seemed. Even though technically, Fairfax was in his s, he had the mentality of something much older, and he would live for far longer. After that night, he'd gone about his business in a normal fashion, going to work, going home. But a few days later, he snuck in at night to see Shannon again, a little earlier this time. He stood at the foot of his bed for a few moments before speaking. "Hello."

SHANNON: The days were getting harder for Shannon. Fairfax had met him on one of the few good days he'd had in a long time and today was one of the bad ones. He was barely awake when the man came in and he didn't even see him until he said hello. Shannon lifted his head slowly and turned to look at Fairfax. A small smile came onto his thin face and he murmured back a "hello". It was good to see Fairfax. No one really came to visit him anymore.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax wasn't used to being depressed, or sad. He made fun wherever he went, and he gave people what they wanted. He'd never gotten attached to anyone either, but he found the mixture of emotions he felt when he saw Shannon were enough to keep him thinking about the boy all the time. Feeling death hanging in the room, Fairfax actually looked around--half expecting to see some sort of creature waiting in the wings for Shannon. Sitting down next to his bed, Fairfax leaned forward and put his chin on the mattress, looking up at him. "You look so small."

SHANNON: "I feel very small today." Shannon agreed and he let his eyes close again, comfortable now that he knew that there was someone there with him. "I'm very tired. But I'm glad that you are here. The nurses have been busy today and no one had time to sit with me." So he'd been alone all day and it did nothing to help his spirits. He tried to be hopeful, but when he felt like this there really was no hope. "I missed you while you were gone."

FAIRFAX: He didn't like it when Shannon wasn't looking at him because it felt like neither one of them existed anymore. For a being that would live so long, Fairfax had a very tremulous sense of what it meant to be real. Moving his spindly hand so that it rested over Shannon's, Fairfax sighed. "Sometimes I come in when you're asleep. Is that creepy? The nurses think it's weird that I'm taking any interest in you at all. I'm just a janitor."

SHANNON: Opening his eyes, he looked back over at Fairfax again. "You must be why I wake up in the morning and I feel like I've had company." Knowing that Fairfax had been there at night made him feel less alone. "I always feel my best first thing in the morning."

FAIRFAX: Most of the nurses he had wrapped around his little finger, but when he started asking about Shannon, they got a little suspicious, as if he'd gone from being a sweet guy to some sort of vulture. Even though Fairfax wasn't looking at Shannon, he could feel the instant he was being seen again and it gave him a relaxing shudder. "If I could do something to help you, would you want me to?"

SHANNON: "There isn't anything that you can do, Fairfax. THey've tried to do everything and now it's just time to wait. Tonight maybe." he smiled a little bit. "Maybe I can go, because you are here now. I didn't want to die alone." Though he had resigned himself to it. Because what was left of his family had stopped coming months ago. And what was left of his friends had stopped coming long before that.

FAIRFAX: Alarmed, Fairfax tugged at Shannon's hand. "Tonight? No! I need more time than that." He hadn't convinced Malcom to do anything yet. "I just met you. That isn't fair." He was used to getting his way and when it was presented to him that he might not, Fairfax was quick to panic.

SHANNON: "It's not always fair. What's wrong with tonight? Tonight seems like a good night." he closed his eyes again and just sighed. He was ready to let go, but if Fairfax didn't want him to go just yet he'd try to live for al ittle while longer. "I'm just glad that I got to know you a little bit.'

FAIRFAX: "I know someone." Fairfax's voice was very quiet. "I think that he can help you." He was certain Malcom could make it so Shannon didn't die--but it wasn't a guarantee that he could make it so Shannon didn't want to die. "And my life is always fair." He said firmly, staring at Shannon's hand, playing with his fingers a little bit.

SHANNON: Shannon just stretched his fingers out, letting Fairfax toy with them however he wanted to. Being touched was something he'd really started to miss and now that he was touching him he felt like he couldn't get enough. "Your hands are warm."

FAIRFAX: Shannon's hands were chilled, and he tried to imagine what it would be like for him to always be cold. Forever. He swallowed and wished he could push out the sad feeling in the pit of his gut. Leaning over, he put his lips on Shannon's hand, kissing the cool skin. "I really like you. It's weird."

SHANNON: "Why's it so weird?" He didn't understand why liking someone was weird. Unless it was just because said person was dying and it seemed foolish to put emotional stock into someone who wasn't going to last. "I like you too.'

FAIRFAX: "I like lots of people. They do things for me; they watch me; they like me." But it was such a utilitarian relationship that it couldn't even really be counted as friendship. "I make them see what they want to see and they give me the things I need." But Fairfax wanted Shannon to see him and that was all.

SHANNON: "I like you." He muttered again before letting his fingers settle back down onto the bed. "I'm tired now, Fairfax." Shannon didn't think that he was going to be able to stay awake very much longer. "Come and see me in the morning. I'm always better in the morning."

FAIRFAX: Fairfax was afraid to come in the morning. If Shannon was better then, he was afraid how much he would like him. Nodding a little, he stood up. "All right." He'd try, at the very least. Standing there for a few minutes longer, he finally turned to go, sneaking past the nurses station skillfully.

FAIRFAX: The next morning was his day off, and Fairfax was glad of that. He didn't want anything to interrupt his visit with Shannon. The night before, he'd gone to see Malcom who had finally decided on his price. Fairfax, however, hadn't decided on whether or not he could pay it. Popping into the room, Fairfax liked how bright it was. At night the place seemed frightening somehow.

SHANNON: Shannon was sitting up, having been propped up by the morning shift nurse when she gave him his breakfast. He hadn't eaten much of it. Just a few bites here or there and then the tray had gotten moved to his nightstand, where it still sat, mostly untouched. When he saw Fairfax come in he smiled and sat up a little more, though it was hard to stay completely upright no his own. "Fairfax."

FAIRFAX: Better, in this case, wasn't quite better. Fairfax felt his heart give a leap when he saw him though and he scrunched up his face a little with worry. "Hey." He smiled though, and glanced over the tray. "Not hungry?"

SHANNON: "No." Shannon shook his head and he took a slow breath. Everything was labored anymore and took so much effort. He was deteriorating quickly. "I'm glad that you came. I wasn't sure if you would. I had a dream of you last night."

FAIRFAX: Tilting his head with interest, Fairfax came closer to the bed and leaned the fronts of his thighs against it. "Did you? Tell me about it." Because he wasn't sure if Shannon meant his visit last night, or an actual dream. Either way, he wanted to hear Shannon talk about it.

SHANNON: "We were in the trash bin again. And you werep laying with my hand like you were when you were here. And it turned into a boat again and there was water all around. I fell off though and into the water and you tried to reach for me but your fingers slipped."

FAIRFAX: Fairfax frowned. That didn't feel like a good sign; if dreams were omens. "Where is your family?" He had to ask. Why they weren't here everyday--he couldn't figure out. Who left their own to die like that? Fairfax wondered if his parents would do the same--though it wasn't fair to judge since they didn't know where he was.

SHANNON: "My dad is with his new wife in New York. It was too much work to be down here all the time. My grams was here but they had to put her in a nursing home and she doesn't remember who I am." Shannon didn't like how Fairfax was frowning so he reached over and he tried to push the corner of his mouth up with his fingertip.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax leaned into the touch, which made his mouth go up even farther and it was a rather comical look. "You wouldn't fall off my boat." He said finally, shaking his head and pushing Shannon's hand away. "I wouldn't let you."

SHANNON: Shannon smiled at that but then he started coughing and that made his whole body start to shake. By the time he was finished he was sucking in huge, ragged breaths. He was wheezing loudly, hardly able to even breathe. He groped blindly for the nurses call button, his eyes on Fairfax because he couldn't bring himself to look away.

FAIRFAX: Not quite knowing what was going on, Fairfax felt his own breath start to shorten and he finally was able to tear his eyes away from Shannon's to push the call button for him. He'd seen the dying before, but somehow he'd avoided them so deftly when it got down to the wire.

SHANNON: The nurse came in after a minute or two and she helped Shannon lay back a little and she put an oxygen mask over his face. There wasn't much else she could do but she handed him his morphine button and he pressed it. It was a timed dose, he could press it all he wanted but he could only have one pump every certain period of time.

FAIRFAX: Watching, and feeling like a miserable late-comer to this twisted carnival, Fairfax shifted uncomfortably. He found that his own glamor didn't comfort him at all and he left himself rather bare, looking perfect even in his worry. When the nurse left, Fairfax put his hand back over Shannon's.

SHANNON: For a while there was no noise between them save for the rasping of Shannon's breath, but even that settled down after a while. He kept his eyes on Fairfax the whole time, sure that he was going to die at any minute and he wanted Fairfax to be the last person he saw before he went. But he settled down a little and when the drugs kicked in he started to feel a little better.

FAIRFAX: "I'm not human, you know." He said after awhile. "I don't want to make you scared, but I'm something else." Maybe that would give Shannon some hope that Fairfax could help. He'd heard lots of good things about the power of hope and how it could keep people alive.

SHANNON: Blinking slowly, he didn't really seem to comprehend what it was that he was saying. Shannon lifted his fingers just a touch, letting the tips of his nails brush against Fairfax's palm. "Are you an angel?" he asked in two very labored breaths.

FAIRFAX: Fairfax shook his head. He was far from that, though he'd been accused of it occassionally. It always struck him as funny because of some of the mean things he did to get his way. He was a bit of a spoiled brat when it came right down to it. "Don't talk for awhile." He advised, unable to bear the way it sounded right now.

SHANNON: When the drugs finally took their full effect he closed his eyes and was out. He didn't have the strength to stay awake after that. Though the steady beep of the heart monitor was enough to ensure that he was still alive.

FAIRFAX: Feeling like his heart was going to break, Fairfax felt like he was being cheated. He hated that, and he wouldn't allow it to happen. Putting his ear to Shannon's chest, he just rested it there, listening to the faint beat of his heart. He didn't trust that mechanical monitor, and when he was finally convinced it wasn't lying to him, Fairfax knew he would have to act tonight.
---------------------------

SHANNON: By the time night rolled around, Shannon was fading in and out of consciousness. Whenever he woke he'd just give himself more morphine and go back to sleep. Though he dropped the button the last time and when he woke after dark had settled he couldn't reach it to giveh imself another dose. So he just laid there, awake and in pain. He didn't want to burden the nurse to have her get it for him to he turned his attention out the window and he tried to see the stars.

MALCOLM: Fairfax had agreed to Malcolm's demands and the vampire couldn't be happier. Who cared if it meant he'd have a little progeny running about? It also meant he'd be able to play with a fae--not something every vampire got to do without consequences. He smiled widely to himself as he put on his lab coat, and nametag, looking perfectly official. He was a specialist, he said, and with just a little coaxing, he was led to Shannon's room by one of the new night nurses. "Pity I couldn't get here sooner. The research world is so--time dependent." The nurse nodded, not really understanding, but Malcolm was very convincing.

SHANNON: When Shannon heard voices from the hallway he turned his head slowly in the direction of the door. He still had the oxygen mask on over his face but he was awake and lucid on account of his inability to give himself more morphine. He didnt' recognize the doctor or the nurse but he figured that they must have been coming to do some sort of final test.

MALCOLM: "I don't need help." He informed the nurse. "I'll let you know when we're finished." His smile was cruel and cold; he couldn't help it. But even though it gave the nurse a chill, she accepted it because some doctors just weren't very personable. When they were alone, Malcolm yanked off the oxygen mask and replaced it with his hand pressed hard over Shannon's mouth.

SHANNON: Shannon's eyes went a little wide behind his thick dark glasses and he tried to reach for the call button. In his panic he knocked the button off of the edge of the bed and it went clattering to the floor, hanging by it's cord. He didn't have the energy to fight and even if he had been % healthy he never would have been able to fight off Malcolm.

MALCOLM: Struggling was very inconvenient for him, but part of him thrilled at the fight. "Fairfax sent me. He likes you so much that he traded his life for yours." Which wasn't exactly true, but he often used lies to manipulate his victims. A lie was the same to him as the truth.

SHANNON: Pulling his hand up, he wrapped very thin and weak fingers around Malcolm's wrist so he could try and pull it away, but he couldn't even budge his wrist at all. When he said the bit about Fairfax trading his life his eyes welled with tears.

MALCOLM: "Aw, how cute." He had to laugh a little as his fingers inched up to cover Shannon's nose as well. His seemingly delicate arms were painfully strong, firm like stone. "You get to live. You should be happy. Grateful." He found that the blood was somehow so much better when it was laced with adrenaline and sorrow.

SHANNON: Panicking even more when his nose was covered, Shannon started to thrash around but he wasn't making any progress in getting away from the vampire. He was quickly running out of oxygen and he started shaking and coughing, though there was no air to cough so he was just making pathetic noises.

MALCOLM: "He was right though. You're so pretty. So, so pretty. I'll bet you'll get even better with me inside of you." Those words were bizarre--maybe he was going to rape Shannon. Or cut him open. Do horrible things to him. Turning his head so hard to the side that it almost snapped his neck, Malcolm was very careful not to apply deadly pressure yet. A broken neck wouldn't do. "This will hurt." Because he wasn't about making his bites nice for anyone but himself. Sinking his teeth in, he tore the skin viciously.

SHANNON: The blankets were tangled up around his legs as he kicked and thrashed around. His hips twisted and his body ached from all the movement. More movement than he'd been capable of the past few days. He kept on jerking and trying to break free. When Malcolm's fangs broke hsi skin and sank into his throat he cried out, all sounds muffled by the hand cover his face.

MALCOLM: Malcolm truely loved this part. He dug his teeth in harder, so deep that he hit the harder parts of the neck, shredding muscle and ligaments. It didn't matter how much damage he did since it would all even out in the wash anyway. The blood spray against his face and over the white hospital sheets would be particularly good and he'd brought a small digital camera to take pictures. Malcolm, through his studies, had figured out the exact amount of time he could leave a body unrisen. During that short time, he liked to photograph it.

SHANNON: The more that the blood sprayed from his throat the harder it was for him to move or even fight. Shannon's movements stopped before the noises he was making did but those too ended eventually. With an entirely limp body he just laid there, his eyes open, his heart beat slowed to a stop. He was gone and for most people that meant there was no coming back.

MALCOLM: Of course, this time would be different because Shannon had caught the attention of a changeling, and one with connections. He chuckled to himself, tugging out his camera and starting the countdown in his head. The wound was first. He had countless pictures of his handiwork on his computer, and would spend some nights simply flipping through all of them. Shannon looked nice with his pale skin and the low lights from the parking lot outside the window shining in on the ghastly scene. Finally, after Mal was satisfied, he cut his own arm, from palm to wrist so that he could put it to the dead lips of his victim.

SHANNON: The blood dripped from his hand into Shannon's mouth, his lips coated in the red as it slipped down his throat. The blood slid down on it's own, coating his throat and sinking its way into his system. There was a minute where he was still and nothing happened but when the blood completely saturated his insides he jerked his head back, gasping in a breath of air. Pain wracked through his body and his spine bowed, arching him up off of the bed.

MALCOLM: Malcolm was quick to cover up his mouth again, even though it was slick with his blood. The hospital room was a mess, but he would leave it quite clean and bare when they were done here. He just didn't want any nurses coming in to check if Shannon managed a scream of pain.

SHANNON: The scream came out but it was strangled. The transition was painful and he could feel it aching from the inside out, all the way down to his bones. His skin was changing, a flush coming to his cheeks and it softened. His dark hair curled and started to get shiny, changing from the dry brittle hair that was left behind after all the chemotherapy and radiation. Fangs slid out from where his eye teeth had been and they stayed put, though most vampires had the ability to retract them, it was just something that came with time.

MALCOLM: The fangs sliced against Malcolm's palm and he smiled because it didn't hurt so much as create a peculiar tingle up his arm. He'd never personally understood pain very well and maybe that's why he found it so easy and alluring to inflict it on other people. "You'd better be quiet, Shannon. You're not a human anymore and if they find you, they'll hunt you down and kill you." Someone would, anyway, eventually. "And you wouldn't want Fairfax's price to be for nothing, would you."

SHANNON: Tears were still in his eyes but now they were tinged red and he was trying to settle down and not make any noises but he was absolutely terrified. He stared up at Malcolm, trying to still himself so that the man would just let him go. What did he mean he wasn't human anymore? He could already feel the changes in his body, he didn't feel so sick.

MALCOLM: Releasing Shannon's mouth from his hand, Malcolm replaced it with his own mouth, licking the blood from Shannon's lips like an animal. The wound on his neck had already healed and he captured the new vampire's arms so that he couldn't push him away as he lapped up the already sticky red along where the wound had been.

SHANNON: When Malcolm licked his lips he jerked his head to the side and started to struggle again. "Let me go." he said, slicing open his lips with the first words to come from his new mouth because he didn't understand how to talk around his fangs or what to do with them. He cried out softly, whimpering. This was all too confusing and surreal.

MALCOLM: "Shhhh." He hissed, the sound so very quiet, yet cutting all the same. He let himself down from the bed, feet on the floor, sliding his camera back in his pocket. Removing the lab coat, he tossed the fake identification on the nightstand. "Get up, and be quiet about it."

SHANNON: For a long moment he just laid there. When he moved to try and get up, shannon nearly fell off of the bed but he managed to keep himself upright as he clung desperately to the blood soaked sheets. He glanced over at Malcolm, wanting to get the hell away from him but he didn't know what the man had done to him and he was beginning to think if he was going to find out he needed to at laest stick close to him.

MALCOLM: Shannon's coltish, newborn movements brought something like tenderness briefly to Malcolm's face. Still, it seemed more as a mask rather than a genuine expression. His face was strangely plastic. "You're going to break hearts." Something a grandmother would say and it sounded obscene coming from Malcolm. "Gather those up." He pointed at the sheets.

SHANNON: There was a large rebellious streak in him and he wanted to tell him no but he was still so terrified that all he could do was gather the sheets up as Malcolm instructed him to. He nearly slipped in his own blood, and he ended up on his butt with an arm full of bloody sheets.

MALCOLM: The wobbliness was wearing thin, and Malcolm reached down to lift Shannon up easily, like he was weightless. "We're going." He would twist the shadows to help them escape without being detected. It was a simple trick, a talent that predators picked up or faced many uncomfortable failures.

SHANNON: The strength that he left his muscles and his body was returning though it was a slow process and one that felt unnatural. He clung to the sheets and to Malcolm as they left the hospital and he was amazing that none of the nurses even so much as looked at him. "Where is Fairfax?" he asked, trying to keep his fangs from cutting his lips.

MALCOLM: The dark craddled them, and Malcolm moved easily through the hospital halls. "Shut up. Enjoy this. You're never coming back here. You're never going to get sick again." Not in the literal sense, anyway. It was yet to be seen if Shannon would be able to stomach eating. Some vampires simply couldn't bring themselves to do it. If that was the case, Malcolm would utterly abandon Shannon, someplace Fairfax would never find him.

SHANNON: "Where's Fairfax?" he asked again, his voice more distressed this time as Malcolm took him out of the hospital and into the night. This was terrifying and all he could think was that fairfax had asked for this to happen to him. "Where is he?"

MALCOLM: "I wouldn't let him come. I told him I'd bring you to him when we were finished." Fairfax had begged Malcolm to let him be there to explain. But Mal wasn't about to make this easy on anyone. No one got eternal life the easy way where he was concerned.

SHANNON: There were tears still in his eyes as he was toted away from the hospital. It was literally the first time in almost a year that he had set foot outside of those doors and he was hit by the cool night air. It ws alarming almost, leaving the place behind even though he'd dreamed of leaving it. Malcolm said he'd take him to Fairfax so he wasn't saying another word.

MALCOLM: They would walk. Malcolm liked walking because it allowed him not to miss the sorts of things he would while driving. It wasn't a long way to Fairfax's place, and Malcolm was a creature of his word. It was a small, shitty apartment on the top floor, but it overlooked the large park in town and that's why Fairfax had chosen it for himself. Sometimes he even slept outside in the park, pressing his cheek to the grass when it was warm outside. Tonight though, he stood with his arms wrapped around his waist, staring out the window trying to see through the darkness for Malcolm's arrival.

SHANNON: When they got there, Shannon wiggled down out of Malcolm's grasp and he tried to break free of him. All he wanted was Fairfax and for him to explain what was going on and why this mand had attacked him. Fairfax would know, he was sure of it and he'd tell him what was happening to him.

MALCOLM: Letting him go, Malcolm opened the door because Fairfax was the sort of fae to leave his life unlocked to people. Fairfax hadn't seen them and their entrance startled him into spinning around and asking who was there. It was dark in his apartment and he couldn't see, having dimmed the lights in hopes it would help him see the street below better. Malcolm snorted, walking smoothly across the room. "It's your package."

SHANNON: Shannon only made it a few steps into the room before he ended up on his hands and knees. "Fairfax?" His eyes adjusted easily to the darkness now and he could make the fae out across the room. Though he looked a little different now and Shannon could see the ethereal glow eminating from his skin.

FAIRFAX: He hadn't expected those eyes and they almost hurt because they were a mixture of Shannon's human eyes and the preturnatural glint that Malcolm's eyes had. It made Fairfax wince because he could feel the gaze and it was colder, more piercing, terrifying. "I'm here." As if Shannon didn't know. Malcolm rolled his eyes. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Blood-sucking starts." But for now, he couldn't stomach their reunion. He left, shutting the door behind him.

SHANNON: "What's happening to me?" Shannon reached for Fairfax but he couldn't quite get to him so he just hunched over and put his head in his hands. The entirety of his body felt strange and Shannon really didn't know what to do with these new feelings. They weren't painful but they might as well have been with how foreign he felt to himself now.

FAIRFAX: Immediately, he was afraid he'd made a selfish mistake. He could hardly bring himself to touch Shannon, but he walked toward him and knelt down with him. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to die. It wasn't fair that you were going to die when I'd only just met you. I wanted more time." To get to know him, to understand why he felt like he did.

SHANNON: "What did he do to me?" There were sobs being choked back with every breath that he took and a shudder ran through with him when Fairfax finally touched him. "I feel so strange." His lips were trembling and he pressed his hand to his mouth to touch the fangs.

FAIRFAX: "You're changing. It'll be all right." He tugged at him, trying to gather him into his long arms, tangling them around the scared thing. "Remember how I said I wasn't human? Well, there are other things that aren't human either. It'll be okay." He repeated, mostly just for his own benefit, to make himself believe it would work out.

SHANNON: "It won't be okay, it won't. I was dead... I think I was dead." Because he vaguely remembered the lights going out and feeling this peace and then he'd gotten sucked right back out of it. "I wanted to just be dead." He'd been so ready for it and now he was here, alive and just confused and in pain.

FAIRFAX: "No--you didn't." Somewhat incredulously. Fairfax could hardly understand why anyone would want to be dead. "You didn't want to be dead, Shannon. People don't just accept that, not when they're as young as you are." He tugged his head up so he could look at him. "Don't say things like that." The apartment started to change around them, the carpet becoming grass, the furniture large serene rocks and trees.

SHANNON: "Stop, stop it." Shannon wiped his hand over the grass as if he was trying to wipe it off of the floor and erase the illusion that fairfax had created it. "It's not real. It's not real, this isn't real, I'm not supposed to be here, not like this." He looked up at him, eyes full of red tears. "Why did you do that, you should have let me go."

FAIRFAX: Shannon's hand through the illusion made it go away. The vampiric perception was stronger than a human's and it was harder to make his fantasies stick. "Because--" At the moment, there didn't seem to be a good enough reason to put someone through this kind of pain. "Because you see me. And because I like you."

for Hiro

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 18:03:41 GMT

The quiet bar Leo usually haunted was closed for remodeling. With Leo's luck, it would re-open as the latest zen hotspot--or other some such yuppie bullshit theme club. He'd have to find a new place to relax after work was through. The local cop hangouts were not an option, considering most of the people he worked with didn't like him. Respect and like were two different things, and while Leo had earned their respect, they still didn't like the little sonofabitch.

This watering hole was a few blocks down from his old one. He'd tried to go downtown instead of uptown, but really either way had its serious drawbacks. "Why don't everything stay the goddamn same?" He asked his beer, looking down into it. The bartender looked at him oddly, and Leo waved him off. The place had typical music, typical everything, and at least it wasn't trying to be anything it wasn't. That was a blessing these days. He sat there, looking tense for a man who was on his third beer.

Fairfax, Shannon

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 02:26:56 GMT

FAIRFAX Fairfax pushed the broom very slowly in the hospital wing where he was working. Swish, tap, swish, tap. His green little jumper suited him nicely and he had a way of blending into the background when he really wanted to. Every once in awhile, he'd let himself shine when a patient would go by. Their eyes would light up and they would think they'd seen an angel when really it had just been Fairfax letting down his dreary glamor to give them a little sparkle of hope for the day. Wheeling his trash can along behind him, he hummed to himself casually as he worked.

SHANNON Being in the hospital day in and day out was worrisome and Shannon was mostly just tired. He never got to go home, not that there was much of one to go to, but even getting out for a little while would have been nice. He was down to just skin and bones, the chemo treatments doing a number on his body, but by some miracle he hadn't lost any of the hair on his head. It was thinner, sure, more brittle than it had been when he'd been healthy, but it was still there and some days that was all that kept him going. Just that he wasn't totally defeated. Today he was restless, not very different from any other day, but he managed to get up and he started out of his room. The boy wore scrubs, always, because he tended to wander around and the last thing he wanted was everyone seeing his backside. When he got to the door he peeked out to make sure no nurses were around and that was when he spotted Fairfax. Smiling a little bit, he wandered over to him. "What are you humming today?"

FAIRFAX "Something I remember without remembering." He said quietly. Fairfax had a lot of memories that weren't necessarily his own. He figured they were from some sort of collective history he shared with his sort of people. Then again, maybe he'd just heard it on the radio somewhere.

SHANNON That was fair enough. Shannon was curious by nature but it was an answer that satisfied him, mostly because he liked the way it sounded. "Very busy today?" Idle chatter because he was lonely and the nurses had long since gotten past the point of friendly to the scared new kid. Some of them were still nice, because he'd been there so long, but most of them he knew weren't happy to be there.

FAIRFAX "I'm never busy." Fairfax laughed, face brightening as he finally drew his eyes from the sweeper to the kid in front of him. They glinted, just a little and he blinked them slowly so that their color shone particularly bright. Leaning casually on his broomstick, he examined the one before him. "Were you looking for a game?"

SHANNON "I would love a game." Shannon pushed his glasses up a little higher on his nose and then he pushed back the sleeves of the gray thermal shirt he was wearing beneath the cerulean covered scrubs. "What sort of game?"

FAIRFAX Fairfax kept a close watch on the people in this place. He liked to think he was a guardian of sorts. Pursing his lips, he glanced down the long empty hall and then the trash bin. Replacing the bag with a new one, he climbed inside of it and gestured for Shannon to come inside as well. "Not a win or lose game, but another sort."

SHANNON There was no hesitation for Shannon as he climbed into the trash bin with Fairfax. He knew if the nurses saw him out of his room, and in a trash bin, he was giong to get his ass handed to him but for the moment this was the most exciting thing that had happened all week and he wasn't going to pass it up.

FAIRFAX "It's a ship." He noted, in case Shannon hadn't guessed, but it was more than just telling the boy what it was. As Fairfax's honeyed voice wrapped around them, the reality of his words permeated the air between them and the trash bin suddenly was a ship. True, it was a small one and no one else saw how quaint and cozy it was sailing down the middle of the hospital halls pushed by Fairfax's broom-oar. But as they went, the floors seemed to splash up around them, and the horizon shimmered in the distance where the emergency exit should have been.

SHANNON The sudden image of a ship, and the splashing of the floor startled Shannon and he leaned forward closer to Fairfax. "It's a ship." he squeaked, surprised that he was honest to god standing in what he thought was a ship in the middle of a hospital. "Wow." He whispered. "How did you do that?"

FAIRFAX Some of his kind would lure pretty things into their midst, dazzle them and do with them as they saw fit. Fairfax had never quite separated himself from the world at hand and so while his magics were nice, he always had a foothold on earth. "Hm? Do what? I didn't do anything. You did." He pushed the brush-oar so that they sailed around a corner into a much more deserted hall and a gull flew by them.

SHANNON Shannon let out a delighted noise at the sight of the seagull and only after it had passed out of view did he turn his attention back ahead of them. Then he leaned over the edge of the boat, wanting to touch the water to see if it was wet or if it just felt like floor. "I didn't do this."

FAIRFAX Fairfax put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh no, don't do that. You'll fall out and drown. We wouldn't want that." His grip was tight, spindly fingers curling inward against Shannon's skin. Eventually, the image faded away and they bumped into the wall, the earthly thud of the trash bin bringing them back to where they were.

SHANNON He felt warmth where Fairfax touched him and he pulled back from the edge of the trash can to look over his shoulder at the man. The image was gone and suddenly they were back in the hallway, still standing in the trash can together. "How did you make it look like that?"

FAIRFAX "Like what?" He tilted his head, looking as innocent as a kitten as he folded his arms across his chest and then gracefully crawled out of the trashcan. Fairfax was mostly made out of dreams, his skin woven by sleep and by imaginings. He was the stuff of childish play, through and through. Lazy looking eyes smiled warmly at Shannon. "What's your name?" He asked.

SHANNON "Shannon." He stayed in the bin for a moment longer and then climbed out so that he wasn't in there alone. Then he brushed himself off and smiled up at Fairfax. "What's your name?"

FAIRFAX "Fairfax." He said honestly, not minding so much granting this kid the sort of power that came along with his name. A fae could only be so wiley. He watched him for a little while, and then brushed himself off, mimicking what the boy had done. He'd been on this world for years and still he found some of it hard to sit in.

SHANNON That made Shannon smile, the mimic of his movements and he brushed himself off again just to see if Fairfax would do the same. "How long have you worked here? I see you around sometimes, you always look so... light."

FAIRFAX Face breaking farther into a smile, Fairfax was beginning to look like a cheshire cat, going from happy to perhaps a little dangerous. He brushed himself off, this time even more obviously copying Shannon's movements. "Light? Like I could fly? Or like the sun? I've worked here since I was . I like it here."

SHANNON "Like the sun." He lifted his hand and adjusted his glasses and then brushed his hair back, watching and waiting to see if Fairfax would mimic that too. "You shine sometimes, just a little bit. I don't know how else to explain it, but I like it. I always watch out my door for you."

FAIRFAX "You cheated." Fairfax pointed out. "I don't have glasses." After a moment of consideration, he reached forward and took Shannon's, placed them on his face, adjusted them, brushed his hair back and then handed the spectacles back to his new little friend. "And I know you do. The only reason I shine is because people see me." As if his existence was based on other people's knowledge of him. Fairfax yawned, stretching his arms up above his head. "What are you here for?" He asked. He listened carefully to the goings on of the hospital, but often times it was a jumbled mess and he didn't understand all of the technical jargon.

SHANNON "Cancer." He never bothered to say the specific type because honestly who cared? Cancer was cancer and most people didn't know the difference enough to know which types were worse and which ones seemed easy enough to cure.

FAIRFAX His face didn't change, half-lidded eyes staying serene. "Are you going to die?" He'd watched the most lovely people pass away, and they always made him sad. Sometimes he'd sit up on the roof during his breaks and squint hard at the horizon, pretending he could see souls rising off the earth like waves of heat off pavement in the summer.

SHANNON "Yes, I am." Because they couldn't get him better and he was slowly deteriorating. Shannon was sure that Fairfax had seen his fair share of death since he'd been working there for so long. "Maybe not today or tomorrow but I will soon."

FAIRFAX That was just Fairfax's luck, talking to a dying boy. "I'm going to live for a very long time. I suppose I can't do everything you do." His playful mimicking would have to stop at death. "We are very different, I guess. Even more than I thought."

SHANNON "Well until I go you can keep doing what I do." he touched his finger against his nose and then did the other one, just doing them one at a time and then he smiled, waiting to see if Fairfax would do it too.

FAIRFAX That made him smile, and it illuminated his face, brightening the farthest reaches of it. As he did as Shannon did, Fairfax continued to ask questions. "Are you afraid?"

SHANNON "No, I'm not afraid anymore." When he had first gotten sick he'd been scared but now he just wanted to go and he wanted it to be peaceful but quick. Of course he knew it wouldn't be that way. He'd already been dying for two years and there was no telling how long it would last in the end. "Can we walk down to the cafe? I would like some orange juice."

FAIRFAX Glancing around, the hall they were in was empty, one of the ones that had been shut down due to cutbacks. He knew that once they went to the cafeteria there would be more people, more milling about. While he wanted to remain alone with Shannon, he wouldn't say no. "All right. I'll pretend to be on my break. They won't fire me. The human resources manager is in love with me. Isn't that cute?"

SHANNON "Yes." Shannon smiled and he turned to walk with Fairfax toward the cafeteria. He didnt get to go down there very often because they didn't want to expose him to everyone but he was tired of taking precautions when it didn't get him anywhere. "I don't have any money, do you think they will give me orange juice anyway?"

FAIRFAX He nodded. Fairfax was used to getting whatever he wanted. There was always someone susceptible to his charms. For awhile, before he was , it was how he survived after leaving home. "They charge your insurance company, or your parents a billion dollars--they can give you orange juice."

SHANNON "I hope so." He walked with him towards the cafeteria and he nudged Fairfax a little bit and smield over at the other boy. It was making him happy to have someone to be with for a little while. "Do you work here everyday?"

FAIRFAX "I have Thursdays and Fridays off," he noted. "Sometimes I come in to visit Margie. She has some of the best memories, if you wait long enough for them to show." She was a terminal Alzheirmer's patient. Fairfax would sit with her and show her everything he could do. It was all smoke and mirrors, but often she would laugh so hard she would cry.

SHANNON "I like her. One day she told me that I looked like a sweet boy and then she let me hold her locket with the picture of her daughter in it." He smiled. "She told me I could have it but I told her that I would have it later and that she should keep it until she is really ready to give it to me.'

FAIRFAX "You do look like a sweet boy." Once they got to the cafeteria, Fairfax pulled out a tray. He never ate much, but loved anything sugar-filled. Grabbing a cupcake, he set it on the tray along with a large glass of orange juice he filled from the machine. "She has a box where she keeps newspaper clippings. She must be a hundred. I like her because sometimes I think I can remember things from that far back, even if I'm not that old."

SHANNON "I like to think that I can remember things from that far back. Sometimes I like to pretend that I was places I never really was. Like on the titanic. I was one of the survivors when the ship went down."

FAIRFAX "What is your favorite memory?" Fairfax took them to sit down. No one even asked about money, but the girl behind the counter smiled at them and giggled a little bit. Fairfax could look like anyone's fantasy, if they only wanted to believe.

SHANNON Sitting down with him, Shannon sipped his orange juice and scooted his chair around so he was a little closer to Fairfax. "My favorite memory is when I went to Woodstock and danced in the rain with a girl who had flowers painted on her cheeks."

FAIRFAX "Do you ever leave the hospital? We could go there if you wanted; I can take you anyplace." He liked to think of himself as some sort of living hallucinogen.

SHANNON "I don't leave the hospital, no." Because he wasn't allowed. "At least I haven't in over a year. I'll die here. But at least not in my mind. In my mind I'll die in a field with the sun shining on my face and the wind blowing the tall grass all around me."

FAIRFAX "Will you?" He felt his heart clench in his chest, and he thought it was funny how death looming so close could make a person infinitely alluring. Fairfax pulled his finger through his cupcake, putting a scoop of frosting into his mouth. "I'll come back later tonight and we can go anyplace in the world. Like the ship hidden in the trashcan. You'd be surprised what I can find."

SHANNON That made him smile and he took a bit of the frosting from Fairfax's cupcake and he licked his finger too. "Okay. Come back tonight. The nurses have probably realized I'm gone now and it's only a matter of time before they come to find me."

FAIRFAX "Drink your juice." He said like a worried mother, glad to have really met Shannon instead of just seeing him everyday. He acted as if perhaps the juice would cure him.

SHANNON Drinking the rest of the juice, he put the empty cup down on the tray and he smiled up at Fairfax. "Will you walk me back to my room?" So that he didn't have to walk back on his own.

FAIRFAX Ever so agreeable, Fairfax nodded and finished his cupcake, every once in awhile doing as Shannon did, just to remind him they were still playing that game. Once there he said his goodbyes and drifted off, leaving behind him a profound absence.

SHANNON Crawling back into his bed, Shannon laid down and just let his gaze drift out of the window and into the night. He sighed, feeling lonely now that his friend was gone but he was used to feeling that way.

FAIRFAX It was the last call for visitors, and the nurses station was changing shifts when Fairfax came back. He was grinning excitedly, and climbed up onto Shannon's bed. With him, he had a large canvas napsack, as if he planned to spend the night, or he needed lots of supplies for their adventure. "Wake up." He whispered.

SHANNON They'd given him his pills before he went to bed and when Fairfax came he was drifting in and out of sleep. Opening his eyes, he looked at him and gave him a sleepy smile before closing his eyes again. "Hey."

FAIRFAX Shannon dancing so close to the edge of dreams made Fairfax's skin tingle and shimmer. He couldn't help it and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, except now he wasn't Fairfax, he was a pretty girl with flowers painted on flushed cheeks. The vision was so real, even if Fairfax was still Fairfax.

SHANNON Lifting his hand up, he brushed his finger along her cheek. "Be Fairfax but with flowers on your cheek." Because he thought that would be a better memory than the girl with flowers on her cheek.

FAIRFAX "Real ones?" He laughed, wanting to show off. Petals welled up from the paint, and Fairfax was himself again with purple pansies resting against his skin. "You're dreaming you know. I'm not even real." Because most of the time, that made people more comfortable.

SHANNON "I wish you were real." He let his fingers pass over the flowers and then he dropped his hands back down to his chest. His eyes were still hooded and he closed them for a few long seconds before opening them again. "I wish that you were real."
FAIRFAX "You're not scared of me?" He let the flowers fade, and he was just himself. "People like me, but then they get to know me and they're afraid." Whenever he let them see the real thing anyway.

After which Shannon falls asleep.

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 04:54:05 GMT

	NAME: Fairfax O'Dea BREED: Changeling STORY: Fairfax was born to nice normal parents in a nice normal suburb. Unfortunately as the boy grew it became clear he was not a run of the mill boy. At birth, the O'Dea's original baby had been stolen away and replaced by dear little Fairfax who was destined to grow up a very troublesome individual. Currently he works as a janitor in the local hospital.
NAME: Sigmund Lewis BREED: Werewolf (Alpha) STORY: Sigmund Lewis won the ranks of Alpha to the pack through sheer force of will and strength. While sometimes he struggles with what needs to be done, his ultimate drive in life is to protect the best interest of the pack. With a strong belief in freedom of choice, however, some would disagree that his methods of leadership are successful ones. He works as a reporter for the city newspaper
	NAME: Marlowe Byrd BREED: Changeling STORY: A successful stripper at a local club, The Island, Marlowe is no stranger to the fact that her powers as fae get her by in life. She has little respect for humans and wishes mostly to only associate with her own kind.
NAME: Malcolm St. Columbus BREED: Vampire STORY: Malcolm made it all the way through medical school before he was kicked out for dining on a few ailing projects. Made a vampire in one of the many popular disco clubs, he took his smarts and his extra time and put it toward becoming a doctor--something that seemed so far out of his reach before he was a dealer of death. Now he takes his medical knowledge and rarely uses it for making people better. Many a victim has fallen prey to the knowing hands of Malcolm.
	NAME: Moira Bairne BREED: Werecat (Cougar) STORY: Turned on accident and quickly abandoned by her ex-girlfriend, Moira doesn't exactly have the friendliest of ideas about shifters in general. That was 10 years ago and she's gotten herself through all right. Fiercely independent, she doesn't accept help from anyone, especially from the local wolf pack in town. She runs her own tattoo shop, inheriting it recently from a friend who passed away.
NAME: Harrison Blithe BREED: Vampire STORY: Just recently created, Harrison doesn't have a lot of understanding about what it means to be a vampire. He frequently falls prey to the more experienced of his race, and just barely survives from night to night.
	NAME: Nixon Veda BREED: Werewolf STORY: Raised by his father, Carter, Nixon's mother was rarely mentioned. Although both parents were werewolves, the man never spoke much more about the woman. Nixon didn't mind much, finding plenty to keep him busy in the world without worrying about long lost relatives. That was, of course, until his twin brother showed up.
NAME: Leo Linetti BREED: Human STORY: Leo was destined to be a police officer from the moment he turned his older brother in for snitching cookies before dinner. With a strict moral sense of right and wrong, Leo likes to think he never has a problem making the ethical and moral decision.
	NAME: Pirate Lasage BREED: Werewolf STORY: Born to hippie parents, Pirate went the opposite way. He is rigid in his beliefs, and disagrees loudly with how Sigmund runs the pack. Still, he respects the line of command and doesn't overstep his bounds, even if he pushes the limits daily.
NAME: Davis Kali BREED: Werelion STORY: Davis's father, a journalist, went to India alone and came back to America with a baby boy. As soon as Davis was born, his mother disappeared, leaving him with a secret he would not discover until his 17th birthday. Two years prior, however, Davis ran away from home, unable to get along with his father and seeing no other way to remedy it. He survived all right on his own, getting an apartment and getting a shitty little job to keep him afloat. But as soon as the changes started, Davis's life fell apart, and rightly so: he was shifting into a lion every couple of weeks, didn't know why, and could hardly remember. Sigmund, catching the story of lion-sightings, quickly figured out what was going on and brought him into the safety of the pack.
	NAME: Hugo Ugo BREED: Vampire STORY: In 1835, Dr. Ugo worked with Anna Marsh to found the Brattleboro Retreat in Vermont, offering merciful, ethical, and scientific care to the mentally ill. One night, however, a catatonic patient was brought in for treatment. No one could explain the man's ghastly palor, cold skin, or frightening eyes. Dr. Ugo sat with him through the night, trying to break through the mystery of this new patient. What he found was the other side of Hell. The man came to life and attacked Hugo, tearing into his throat with ravenous furor. But overwhelming remorse filled the vampire and he offered his victim life. Dr. Ugo drank and with the blood came the insanity of his maker. His first kill was so traumatizing to him that now believes that the souls of the people he kills and consumes haunt him.
NAME: Carter Veda BREED: Werewolf STORY: ---
	NAME: Duncan O'Dea BREED: Human STORY: Duncan was born only 2 years after his brother Fairfax. Where Fairfax had been a troublesome baby and child, Duncan was nothing but quiet perfection. Unfortunately, that didn't earn him a lot of attention and he grew up under the overbearing shadow of his brother. The two never got along outright, but when Fairfax disappeared at 16, Duncan was furious at him for abandoning them. His parents were never the same. Having not heard from his brother for nearly 10 years, Duncan is now searching for him.