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| Welcome To The Night You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality. This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories. Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness. Create Your Account! If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Lion's Gorge - Foxes & Tigers [ENDED] | |
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| Topic Started: Friday, 19. September 2014, 21:16 (990 Views) | |
| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Monday, 29. September 2014, 18:48 Post #21 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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Where the fuck is she? ...how the fuck should i know, you drug-addled bint? Although i have a suggestion: She's in Hell where her fucking, drug peddling bitch-ass belongs, and i'll send you to her so you two can lick eachother's cunt while Satan and his cronies are fucking your arseholes with cacti. ..cactusses? ....fucking pine-apples! ..or that sharpleaved plant that grows in South America that the drugbarons make dumb people run through. That shit cuts to the BONE. ..um. Anyway.. I refrain from answering because the desire to make puns, belt out 'clever' one-liners or be flippant during a fight has been well and truly beaten out of me at this point. If you're diverting processing power to being witty you're losing processing power to put your opponent the fuck DOWN before they do it to you. You can be as flippant as you want AFTER you win. And if you die it really doesn't matter anyway. She looks like she's about to dive at me, something i'm not unfamiliar with, dealing with coke-heads, crack-heads and..assorted other drug-heads gives me some idea of what's about to come next so i ready to intercept with an upwards blow of the baton to her jaw, except she suddenly gets yanked back when i swing, putting me off balance for a moment when the swing goes wide. Being off balance in a fight is something you want to avoid like the plague because it leaves you open and as i've already learned to my everlasting regret a vest doesn't stop -everything-, like in the movies, it just makes it hurt less. I brace for pain and try to recover my footing and find myself facing...um. ..well first of all there's Cameron, pulling off some fucking Bruce Lee style backflips and..it's a little overly showy but graceful as hell.. Then there's the..girl..thing..snarly heck-beast..um.. ..seriously..what the fuck -IS- that..thing? Ghost-possessee? Demon? Fucking T-Virus...thing? Joan Rivers having a bad day? It certainly fucking -looks- demonic. ..which makes me want to keep the fuck away from it to tell you the god-honest truth. Then again.. I glance at Cameron, tossing the baton to the ground and give him a nod. Let's fucking do this! LEEEEEROOOOOOY JHEEENKINS! I go for the knife i'm REALLY not supposed to carry, a nice, sharp Bowie knife from a hidden sheath in the small of my back and dart for the left, praying my vest stands up to whatever the fuck those claws are made of. I'm the tank, Hopefully Cameron can pick up the DpS. ..Vanya...i blame you and your damn MMOs..also, i hope you're not watching if/when this goes horribly wrong. Here we GO! I charge forwards, shift my grip on the knife and use my other hand for extra force as i stab in a horizontal arc for this crazy litlte demonbitch's throat. |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Leslie | Monday, 29. September 2014, 20:54 Post #22 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Apparently the human had enough of trying to get to her. Lesie only wanted to hurt them. Wel not her... she would regret this later but her Beast was not letting her go. It was looking at the two idiots through one red eye and one non existing eye. Gosh it would take time to heal that. Where the fuck did he go? Was he flying through the air? Maybe she could catch him in mid air... But the ground was safer for now. And why was she bleeding? Oh yeah.. she lost a fucking eye. She needed to stop bleeding and control her blood flow again. Stop thinking human! Her Beast was pissed off at the overly human reaction. Bleeding was not a thing she was supposed to do but somehow she was trying to partly human like even though her claws were swinging around and she was hardly annoyed by the fact her eye had been smashed to fucking pulp. Leslie, her Beast and Frenzy were an odd trio. It was a consant battle for attention. Something new asked for attention! A sound of something falling on the ground. The thing that had hit her! Now if only she could get her hands on it and return the favour to that bitch before draining the fucking life out of her... now that would be sweet revenge! Instead of sweet revenge she got two humans being surprisingly defensive. Hell! Claws! Bleeding eye! Still trying to attack them! Shouldn't they be running? Leslie had never expected that these two would be so not scared. With a sigh and a growl she jumped up at the same time the bitch went towards her. One claw swung down towards her chest but there was a stinging cold touch in her throat. That was odd. Her right eye blinked and her claws went up to her throat. Really? A knife? Taking it out with her claws would be too dangerous and so she used her regular hands to pull it out. It was stuck really good! This bitch had quite a good self defence. Not only shock but also awe took over as she tried to get the knife out of her and she stumbled around mindlessly until she yanked it out. Blood sprayed upon the two, leaving there clothes, face, hands or whatever stained in her blood. Not much though probably! There was no need for bleeding anymore but she would be damned if they forgot about what they had done this night to this poor helpless girl! Yes there was still sarcasm in the Beast. It was fun and her own blood would be easier to smell upon them as her nose was fucked up. No more blood seeping out of her wounds was good. All there was now was dried blood and gore and yucky stuff! Would they now hopefully run so she could chase them? She wanted their blood so bad. She threw the knife away. Hopefully Cameron wasn't at her other side. All though...,yeah be on her side! She threw the knife away and could then hurt him even more. An evil grin appeared. Fuck... growling and purring was broken now... perfection had stopped purring. Where were these two again? |
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English Dutch French German Demon: Leslie's ghoul cat! IA Business
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| Cameron | Monday, 29. September 2014, 21:04 Post #23 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron was more than a little horrified at what was going on. The woman had her eye shattered and had grown claws. Her fucking eye was glowing like a red flashlight. But he wasn't going to let Fox face it alone. He was halfway convinced he was tripping on something. Maybe Fox's dealer had gotten him some laced hash and they were tripping on acid right now? He didn't know. But he knew Fox needed his help when she dove to the side and charged the woman with a knife. The blade stabbed into her throat and the claws, where the hell did the claws GO? They just vanished, sunk back into her hands so she could rip the knife free. The blood sprayed everywhere. Cameron got another face full of the stuff as he jumped forward. But he was already moving. As Leslie looked around to see where the Englishman was his foot came down on the grass and he lifted into the air. His entire body swung in a fast circle and his spun in a long arc that connected with Leslie's blind side like a perfectly aimed baseball bat. He could HEAR the bones crunch as her head snapped around to the side. He didn't realize where the extra boost in strength was coming from, but he was already licking his lips to get more of that amazing flavor, not even aware he was doing it. Cameron watched Leslie crumple like a puppet with her strings cut even as he landed. He was panting and without thinking about it he ran a hand over his face and got more of her... of her blood.. into his mouth. Something weird was going on because it didn't freak him out like it should have. He was absently licking his palm as he looked over to Fox to see if she was okay. He'd never intentionally hurt someone before and he had a feeling he'd be VERY freaked out about this later. At the moment there was just too much adrenalin in his system and he was too freaked out to care. [OOC: All actions taken with approval of opposing player.] Edited by Cameron, Monday, 29. September 2014, 21:04.
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Monday, 29. September 2014, 22:36 Post #24 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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Well i'm successful in that i get crazy, freaky mutant-girl's attention. ..yay. Which also means i get to face the claws. The sickeningly sharp claws. ..did i mention how fucking -sharp- those claws are? ..really damn sharp. So bleeding sharp i don't even feel them shearing right through my vest like a scalpel going through..well....uhm. I'm not actually sure through what. I just know she tears through thirtysix layers of Kevlar, not without resistance but she still manages to get through it and rip into my chest and right breast, i can feel those sharp nails grate on bone but i do get the satisfaction of sinking my knife into her neck. ..which -should- finish her off. I mean stabbing a knife into their neck kills most things, right? Atleast if you manage to get the arteries. ..which..i think i might have judging from the spray. Which is going to be a tad awkward, good thing my coat is open and long enough to..um..sort of cover..um..not all of it..bugger.. Well she's got a knife in her neck! HAH! ..and yet.. And yet she's STILL FUCKING STANDING!! ..i mean, yeah, people on drugs are capable of staggering feats of strength and resilience but this..this is..fucking INSANE!! To be fair, i would have loved to just bolt but there are a few factors preventing me from having done so, firstly i'm -supposed- to be a police officer, we're supposed to CONTAIN threats, not run away from them, unless we're called Wentworth and we're a bleeding Nancyboy. So there's that. Then there's the fact that this bitch threatened my friend, you don't threaten my friends and walk away without repercussions. And..well..sheer idiot terror, to be perfectly honest, i'd have stood there just staring dumbly if not for the drills and selfdefence mechanisms hammered into my head. And now, well.. When Cameron does his..erm, it..i'm not sure WHAT i'm supposed to call it, it's some sort of Weird spinny thing that ends with her head snapping back and making that sharp, dry grating noise i know and love from seeing and, oh god, -hearing- someone's neck break. It's sort of the same noise you get when you're eating a lobster and you tear the shell open, that same wrenching, tearing noise that..yeah..um, not pleasant but atleast she's down and out..hopefully dead. ..you know what? ..i'm going to make sure.. I wince and twist my right shoulder because moving it too much sends lines of fire searing into the right side of my torso where little Miss T-Virus tore through my vest and carved my chest and tit open, although the bleeding is relatively mild due to the sheer sharpness of the claws, something blunter would have ironically done a lot more damage, this just shears through things rather than tearing and ripping. I stagger over to where the prone girl is, snatching the truncheon out of it's 'holster' with my left arm, holding the girl's hed up a little with my right and wailing away with..well, it's technically a non-lethal weapon but at this point i doubt it really matters anymore. "Your. Girl? She. Is. Down. In. Hell. Sucking. Satan's. Long. Thick. Towering. Throbbing. COCK!!" Each word comes with a wet thwack of the treated hollow truncheon impacting with what was once a really pretty face. ..although if you let a pretty face distract you from murderous intent, well, you deserve everything you get. The spatters on my face and the crunching noises as i beat the pretty, soft, feminine features of the girl into unrecognizable lumps is deeply, viscerally satisfying to whatever primal thing rose in my chest, hell even her blood tastes sweet as honey. ..tastes like...victory. HAH! |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Monday, 29. September 2014, 22:46 Post #25 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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"Fox, FOX! She's dead!" Fox's rampage on the girl's face broke him out of the odd trance he had been in, licking at his hand, scooping the blood off his face and neck and lapping at it. He reached over and grabbed her by the back of her body armor and yanked her up away from Leslie. His pale green eyes looking over the shattered remains of the girl's face. She wasn't moving. He felt so weird. Hot and flushed. The adrenalin made his heart thunder in his ears and he felt like he could run a hundred miles. But they were still so fucked. He looked at his friend and shook his head. He realized his arms were still bleeding and grabbed hold of the backs of his torn forearms with the opposing hands, squeezing them hard. Hard enough that the skin started to bruise, which surprised him. But it did stop the bleeding. Four ugly slashes across the back of each forearm. He signed a bit inside. What were a few more ugly fucking scars on HIS skin anyway? "For fucks sake Fox, what do we do? I think I killed her... and if I didn't you definitely did!" His nose flared when he realized Fox's face and neck were covered in that same dark rich blood. So were her arms, almost to her elbows from the beating she had just delivered to Leslie's face. The shit covered her truncheon. He couldn't believe his mouth was watering. Fuck he had to be going insane again. This was all just a fucking dream or something. He needed to snap out of it. Keep it together. They had to do something. |
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Monday, 29. September 2014, 23:01 Post #26 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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The bloodsoaked grin becomes an animal snarl and i hiss in pain when i get pulled off the dead bitch, scrabblign to my feet and firmly pressing my right hand to my chest to push part of the cuts closed, wincing and and taking a hissing breath. "Yeah well she 'ad it fuckin' comin' din't she? Crazy junky fuckin' mutant freak bitch.. Crazy fuckin'claws went right through the fuckin' vest. Fuckin' thing's all torn to shit innit." I lick at my left sleeve and glove in a distracted kind of way and make a soft murring noise in my throat, casting a hateful look at the girl we just..well..beat, stabbed, kicked and bashed to death. Or so we think atleast. Then i shake my head to dislodge the adrenalin rushing through my system. ..well i try anyway, mostly unsuccessfully..GOD FUCKING YESS! I feel so fucking ALIVE!! ..but..tone it down, you just killed someone..Which..isn't the first time, nor is it in any way likely to be the last. I got shit i still need to do before i end up in fucking Broadmoor and my own little padded cage and longsleeved sweater. ..hmmm.. No time to ride the high, time to be cold and calculating, i can laugh and cry and throw up later. Now i need to deal with this bleedin' mess. "Get your gym bag, if you 'ave any more alcohol, get it out, and anything volatile you got on you..she's pretty small, we can stuff 'er inna bag, weigh it down wit stones and send 'er off to 'ave a chat with ole Davy Jones..so's 'e can send 'er on to suck Lucifer's cock alongside that cunt of a girlfriend of 'ers." ..also, speaking of blood,i keep absentmindedly licking at it, and making soft, appreciative murring noises. |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Monday, 29. September 2014, 23:12 Post #27 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron found himself distracted watching Fox's tongue lap at the blood and he shivered. That shouldn't be sexy. It really shouldn't. That was fucked up. Still he nodded and took several deep breaths. He walked over to his bag and looked at his hands. He'd actually licked most of the blood away, well, that wasn't from his own bleeding forearms. He could see the muscle of his arms and it was grossing him out a bit. But he shivered and let it go. He focused on the task at hand. He opened his bag and dumped it out onto the ground. The bottle of scotch was wrapped in a towel, so it didn't break. The weights thumped out onto the ground and after a thought he tossed the barbells back inside. Once the big gym bag was empty he jogged back over to the ruined mess and grabbed her legs. He roughly shoved them hard against her chest and twisted those freaky arms into the ball. With Fox's help the managed to stuff her into the bag. She wasn't very tall and they might have broken a bone in the process. Once it was zipped shut Cameron looked at his hands. They were blood soaked again. He had, he realized, dipped his fingers into the wounds on her neck and face when he was moving her. He couldn't even remember if he'd done it on purpose or not. Still he slung the gym bag over his shoulder without a problem and stood up. He was licking his fingers again he realized absently. He looked down at his blood soaked shirt and just felt... hungry. God that was fucked up. He looked over at Fox and nodded. He was caught in a daze, he vaguely realized he was in shock, but he was following her lead. He looked at her torn vest and frowned. Looking her over. "Grab my spare gym clothes. We're going to have to ditch your whole uniform. We've got get rid of it all." He sounded a bit faint. Maybe that was because his mind was in a weird sort of haze. All he was aware of was how good it felt to lick the blood of his hands. He shook himself and tried to stop. God what the fuck was wrong with him? He had to be cracking up again. He had to be going insane. He shivered. But Fox would know what to do. |
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 00:04 Post #28 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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I don't know if Cameron is in shock, all i know is that he does as he's told, which is good, because our not being in prison in the near future is hinging on me keeping my cool and him doing as he's fucking told. Not that i'm sitting idly by mind you. I'm stripping the clothes off the dead girl with a hollow, detached air, trying not to remember every detail of what she once looked like. I've done this before, i can do it again, even if her face keeps swimming across my mind now and then, not as she was while we were fighting but as she -could- have been if it weren't for..whatever creepy fucking shit turned her into a freaky mutant monster..thing. I'd be half inclined to think i only imagined the claws if they hadn't shredded my vest, my uniform and..well...me. I collect her clothes and use them to wipe and soak up as much blood of my clothes as i can, not quite aware of the fact that i'm chewing dozily on her soaked panties. ..i'd probably be more than a little distressed if i were actually AWARE i'm doing it. For starters i shouldn't be chewing on some random girl's panties, i'm married for fuck's sake. Erm..also..it's blood. It's supposed to taste like fucking copper and iron and it should turn my stomach and make me puke. It doesn't. It tasted like cinnamon honey and it makes me feel warm and alive and active and glorious and wonderful and... FUCK! I'm so high i could just stretch out my arms and fly away.. But i shouldn't, i've got shit to deal with, this body needs to be gone and Cameron needs seeing to and these cuts need stitching somewhere private and quiet and safe and i need something that isn't soaked with blood, and,..if i get a moment to myself i can remember what exactly it is you use to get blood out of clothes, it wouldn't be the first time i had to get it out of my uniform, although right now i'm a little afraid to check how much i'm actually bleeding, i'm clearheaded enough to work, to think, to keep going, to keep both of us going, to lead, to just DEAL with shit, i can wuss out and collapse and cry and puke and shower and clean and do all the little coping things...LATER. Right now i need to deal with this. I hum to myself as we stuff her in the bag, fold her, break her, twist a little, stuff her in there, make her fit, pack in a few weights, hell take a stone or two and add it in before Cameron heaves the bag up and i help him throw it over the railing into the water with a wet 'Kerflump' watching her sink into the murky depths with a..strange hint of melancholy. "..with twice ten turns of a 'unter's pike, 'eave 'er over and out of sight.." ...uhh..i...really don't know why that song came floating up..i'm just going to blame it on shock..or..something. "Yo 'o 'o and a bottle of rum.." "Erm..well..fuck..Rite, there is no fuckin' way i'm ditchin' this coat, V got it for me. ..the uniform though..well..i can wash it..i..I'll need a moment to remember 'ow to wash blood out of clothes." I..don't really give any fucks about stripping down to my skivvies in front of Cameron, i'm still wearing my underwear and there isn't quite enough blood for it to soak that far. ..ignoring for a moment the fact that between the two of us me and Cameron have..uh...erm...consumed..most..of...it. ...I am not looking forwards to the moment when i become aware of just what the fuck we're doing.. The claw cuts are neat and bleed calmly, mine is red and runny where the girl's..blood..is it even blood at this point? It's becoming something..weird and dark and..old..de-oxygenated...stuff. I might not scar..too badly, these are neat, almost surgical cuts and they hurt and burn like a fucking bitch but with a bit of luck they'll heal. And well..if they don't..who the fuck cares? They're not the first scars i have, i've been shot, stabbed, hit by a car, fell, got caught in barbed wire, burnt, electrocuted, slashed, scraped and..ugh, i can't remember half of what i've lived through, a lot of those things left their mark but..well..Vanya kind of liked to 'read' them and get the stories i could remember, i'm not really looking to replace her any time soon so why should i care if i still look appealing. ..i..guess i do..my face at least, it's the rest of me that may or may not come as a shock. ..not that i'm as bad as Cameron is..oh hell no, most of mine have faded at least a little. |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 00:14 Post #29 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron stripped off his shirt without thinking about it and also without thinking about it he started sucking on the fabric. He wasn't aware he was doing it. Just absently chewing on the fabric as he got Leslie's clothing ready to burn. He looked over at Fox and realized she was doing the same thing. He also noticed her tit was bleeding. It really creeped him out that he found that kinda sexy right now. But the taste of this freaky woman's blood was better than the finest hash they'd smoke and had him feeling more energized than her best scotch. He dropped his shirt and walked over to her when she mentioned her wife. He reached out without thinking about it and clamped his hand down on her bleeding breast. His other hand braced on her back so that he was compressing her chest INTO his grip, applying pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. "Just relax. Got to stop the bleeding." But even as he said it he realized that he could smell more of that incredible blood coming off Fox's face and hair. Without realizing what he was doing he leaned down and started to lick the blood off her face, letting out a tiny whimper of delight. It was ambrosia. Just the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted. The only thing he'd ever experienced like it was that iced tea that Emily had given him. Somehow this was better, purer. He just stood there with her, in the middle of a fucking part at night, licking the blood off her face and holding her injuries so they'd stop bleeding. His grip on her breast wasn't sexual, he wasn't aware of his fingers flexing slowly with each lick. He wasn't doing it on purpose. He was definitely NOT trying to get her off or anything. But ever new lick of that blood was like heaven. "Got to get the blood off your face." He didn't even think of how stupid that sounded. Like it was perfectly logical for two people who just murdered some kind of mutant woman to be LICKING the blood clean off each other. He just shivered and kept lapping away until her face was clean. Then he moved on to her neck. |
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 00:39 Post #30 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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I grunt softly and take a hissing breath, suppressing that first urge to fold the fucker touching me into a pretzel. But..it's Cameron, Cameron is cool, Cameron is my mate. "Got a kit inna car. Can stitch us up till i drive us to a proper sawbones." The scent of the darkening, de-oxygenating crap that served the freaky mutant girl for blood distracts me from the more than a little creepy licking that Cameron is doing, and i make a soft, content murring noise in the back of my throat, nuzzling back at him in a way that is..somewhere in the neighbourhood of animalistic affection. It's not..quite sexual, it's..Well, okay it sure as fuck -looks- sexual, i'm nuzzling his face, and his scars and let my soft, warm, moist tongue flick daintily over his skin as i hold my friend protectively close, letting my hot breath waft over his skin in quick, husky gasps. ..it just doesn't...feel sexual, it's more like..um..like he's my brother? ..not familial but..my buddy, my friend on the battlefield, someone who stood by me during a vicious battle. He had my back and i had his, there was no hesitation, no questions just..brotherhood. Or sisterhood, i guess. ...hey, i'm trying here alright? This is pretty fucking far from being anything even remotely normal. Normal went out the window the moment T-virus girl stepped into our lives and shit went off the rails FAST. We fought side by side and we won and now we're tending to eachother's wounds as brothers and sisters forged int eh fires of battle might. ..sort of. Um. Kind of. er... Uh. I'll admit that the noises i make in the back of my throat, the kind of happy, affectionate purring..sort of noise..isn't..well, it SOUNDS kind of..um..and the licking well that's just..erm..yeah. Um. I'll admit it looks really, really bad. On oh so many levels but i swear on my wedding ring i don't feel the least bit aroused. It's nigh on impossible for me to get aroused, thanks to the lingering spirit of my wife and hersubconscious manipulation. Neither of us is really aware she's doing it, it's just there, i'm just affectionately cleaning my friend's face and hair with soft, delicate little licks, nuzzling his face and rubbing noses.. Hey at least i'm not KISSING him! ..although i do lick his lips. .which..i guess is just as bad? Edited by Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy, Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 00:42.
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 00:55 Post #31 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron shivered and stepped back. He nodded awkward and took a few deep breaths. He stared at Fox in shock and a shiver ran through him as he considered that they had just been.. he didn't know WHAT they had been doing. Licking blood off each other's faces like animals looking for a treat. God, they'd cleaned their own hands and arms. He shivered again and his muscular frame flexed. He didn't know how to describe how he felt. If Fox had been covered in that shit he'd lick every inch of her to get it. He wasn't sure he'd have asked. Come to think of it he hadn't asked before he had started licking her face. He looked her over. He wanted to say it was from concern and there was concern there, but really he wanted to make sure he hadn't missed a drop of that blood. But they seemed to have done a good job of cleaning each other. He had to swallow that thought. He looked over at his pile of discarded clothing from the bag and stripped out of what he was wearing. He'd bled all over and frankly he didn't care of Fox took a peek or not. He didn't think she would anyway. But with the muscle of his forearms laid bare he was hurting like a bastard and one of them needed to be in clothing that wasn't soaked in blood. So he slid into the black sweat pants and pulled the gray hoody on. "Yeah, my arms are definitely going to need stitches." He was still feeling numb. His mind so far past O.K that he was just sort of going on autopilot. He gathered up all the clothing and stuffed the bloody shit down into the legs of his pants. Tying the stuff off into an ugly blood reeking lump. He just wished that lump didn't smell like pure heaven. He shivered again and took the bottle of scotch. He uncapped it and took a long swig and handed it to Fox without a word. "I parked near a back entrance, a hiking trail. We should be able to get all this shit to my trunk without causing to much of a fuss." He shivered at how cold and distant his own voice sounded. But he was numb as hell and for some reason that pretty girl they had beaten to death was just floating in his mind. But all he could think of was diving back into the water and licking those wounds. "Let's get out of here before I do something crazy like dive into the water to get more of that blood." Not that they'd find it. That channel ran right into the Thames. He did pick up the knife that Fox had stabbed the girl with and he started licking the dirty thing like it was a fucking lollipop. He'd have felt even stranger about it if he hadn't seen Fox sucking on the end of her truncheon. Still, the numb and somewhat stunned scarred figure started walking towards his car with as much of the shit as he could carry. |
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 09:49 Post #32 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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Why in the hell would i take a peek at Cameron's junk? He's got nothing in his pants that is even remotely of interest to me. No offence intended ofcourse. Besides, i'm a little focused on gatherign up my clothes clutching them to my chest and sniffing them like some crazed animal. While i'm making semi-feral murring noises in my throat. This is surreal. And messed the hell up. Well i can wear the coat..The sleeves got a bit spattered but i can slip them into eachother and clutch the clothes to my chest, both as a makeshift bandage and..erm..to keep sniffing at them..and gnawing on my shirt. When Cameron speaks up i selfconsciously spit out my shirt and look at him, gingerly taking the bottle and taking two long, deep swigs in a..frankly futile attempt to wash away that wonderful taste of cinnamon, honey and a hint of coffee...and steak..Steak with just the right amount of red.. hmm.. Like Cameron i can't help looking wistfully at the river and consider jumping in after.. "We will never talk of this again. This did not just 'appen. We got stoned and drunk and we accidentally took some LSD. THAT is what 'appened. This is never comin up again. You 'ear me? Also there was an animal maulin' yeah? And maybe some awkward, stoned gropin' which is why we're nekkid. We got stoned out of our fuckin' skulls, groped awkwardly and there was some snarlin' fourlegged thing that we threw inna river. In't that rite?" ..i don't even remotely believe that story myself but there you go: THIS. DID. NOT. HAPPEN. Not ever. Not really. This is a drug-fueled bad, bad fucking trip. Bad shit. Really bad shit. ..so i really need to stop licking my truncheon like it's a god-fucking-damn lollipop. Seriously Fox, get your shit together you stupid, stupid cunt. "Ow!" What the fuck was that? "Ow.. Oi.." ..acorns? Where are these.. I look up just as a grey squirrel scampers along an overhanging treebranch, takes a leap and lands right smack in my face, chittering like a madman and -hitting- me on the forehead with a tiny, tiny little paw of fury. ..i'm fairly sure this isn't normal behaviour for squirrels. ..hell i can't imagine ANYone would think it is normal behaviour for squirrels. ..which leads me to an admittedly insane conclusion: My wife is very cross with me and has taken over a small, normally inoffensive animal to make this fact clear to me.. ..erm. ..well it's no stranger than the rest of the evening starting with little Miss T-virus and her tasty, tasty blood. ..yeah this is seriously fucked up. "I'm sorry! I din't mean to kiss him, it just happened! That stuff was just so GOOD! I'm SORRY! Goddammit V, stop HITTING me! ..squirrels shouldn't look so fucking -FURIOUS-..They shouldn't be waving their paw the way a human would wag their finger in a 'You have been a bad wife' gesture then scamper up to the top of my head to sit there with their arms folded. ..or well..it looks like it -tries- to fold it's arms until it gives up and just sits there looking like it's fuming. Then it looks at Cameron as though finally aware of his presence. ..one ear flicks and little paws tap their nails together in a sort of embarrassed/nervous gesture that would be IMMENSELY familiar to me if i saw it. ..it's what Vanya used to do if she was startled, nervous and or trying to come up with an explanation as to why i just found her naked and rolling around in a pile of my clothes. Then it lifts one paw, tries to spread the two upper 'fingers' to point at it's eyes, failing somewhat due to the limits of it's anatomy, then points at Cameron with an imperious chitter. ..it's a distressingly human gesture coming from a squirrel sitting on my head. ..'I am watching you..' |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 12:08 Post #33 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron was in to much of a daze to notice anything with the deranged squirrel. The muscular young man was shivering from a combination of blood loss and shock a bit as he opened up his trunk and stuffed the incriminating belongings inside. He was also considering it deeply fucked up that part of him wanted to soak all this blood soaked clothing and drink it down, just to get whatever last taste might remain. He shuddered at that. He chuckled wearily at Fox's assertions that they had gotten stoned and attacked by an animal. He considered the... differences... of the girl they'd thrown in the river. She had fur on her back for fucks sake. So he was FINE with calling it an animal attack. There was a good chance he'd just gone completely off his rocker so he was more than willing to just have this all have been a nightmare. Yep. Some kind of crazy blood soaked nightmare. He slipped behind the wheel of his car and grimaced at the pain of flexing his forearms to grip the steering wheel. They'd started oozing blood again at some point. The gray hoody darkening as it stuck to the injuries. The black 67 impala rumbled to life with a dull roar and vibrated as he got the car started up and he looked over at Fox. His pale green eyes a touch glassy from how numb he was feeling. "Right, so where do we go from here?" He was amazed he'd kept his shit together so well. He was pretty sure he should be screaming and flailing like a lunatic by now. If he started hearing voices he was done. He'd have himself committed. He couldn't handle that shit twice in his life. Knowing that it was just being being bat shit insane was not going to help. God she said she was Emily's girl. He'd killed Emily's girl. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckkohfuckohfuck. Emily is going to be so upset if she comes back. How will I explain to her that I killed her girlfriend? But she'll be single now... FUCK NO WHAT? Cameron twitched and shook his head, taking a few deep breaths and calming himself down. Resolutely focusing his mind on the act of driving. His knuckles popped with his grip on the leather wrapped steering wheel. |
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| Leslie | Tuesday, 30. September 2014, 13:42 Post #34 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Nope! She had not seen him coming at all! So by the time the foot swung up against her head it was too fucking late. She heard and felt the crack of her neck and went down like a damn rag doll. Worst thing was that this wasn't the first time this happened but back then it had happened during some flirting game and she ended up safely in a bed. Naked. At least she wasn't naked now but she was in the hands of two seriously disturbing humans. These two needed a shrink! Or a bullet to the brain. Fuck she hoped she wouldn't be tripping about some pink elephants and butterflies again. It was fairly disturbing that she was lying there in the middle of the night but then again without her Emily there was not much use in continuing unlife. She wanted and needed her bunny. Where was she? Was she really dead? The sun would take care of Leslie in the morning. Leslie suspected that now these two humans would run off to some dark stupid basement to get drunk and even higher and shit... probably fuck each other's brains out. Psychopaths! Her one open eye can see the bitch approaching her and before she knew it she felt more pain but nothing she could do about it. The worst thing was what she said about Emily. In her mind she was screaming and kicking and hurting the bitch as much as she could! Great! And now she saw nothing as her face and other fairly good eye was now bruised and cracked. And they saw her as the monster? It was the human doing this crazy shit not the vampire this time! To be fair though she might have surprised them a bit. They were clueless about what she really was and so the high must have sent them over the edge when they saw her claws. Still this had been a slightly overly dramatic reaction to it all. Her mind sighed and she could still hear them talk. Gym bag? That couldn't be any good! And what were those weird noises they made? Maybe they weren't human either! They are moving me but why? Oh my gosh! What are they doing? Am I getting undressed? I kill them in their sleep if they do weird probing shit with me! Oh Fuck! My fur! They are going to see my fur! Move body... fucking move... twitch... do something! Argh! This is crazy! Why won't they stop? What is this thing they are putting me in? Gosh it smells bad... wait... this must be the gym bag! Why do I need to be in a gym bag? Damn these humans are weird! Water? Something falls in the water. Odd... wait! Water?! I'm in the water! No! Let me out! HELP! I don't want to drown! Fucking hell these humans are so mean! Let me out! They can't hear me! Shit! And I can't move! I need to get out! The rant frantically went on in her head until she was completely emerged in the water and realised that she couldn't drown. The mud and filth of the bottom of the river would slowly settle on the gym bag and Leslie would fall asleep for the upcoming day and to recover from her wounds. In the back of her mind she wondered what mark she would have now to remind her of this awful night and those terrible humans but first she needed to heal and get her strength back. Darkness... |
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English Dutch French German Demon: Leslie's ghoul cat! IA Business
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Friday, 3. October 2014, 13:19 Post #35 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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I start giving directions: first to my car, then a drug dealer of my aquaintance to get the 'fee' we're going to need to buy some back alley medical attention. And then a doctor who doesn't ask questions, except for the obvious 'Where is my fee?' My car has a change of civilian clothes and a first aid kit for patching up the worst of our cuts. It's just a stopgap measure but it'll stop us from bleeding out in the damn car until we get to the doctor. There isn't anything i feel like talking about while i patch Cameron, nor while i patch myself during the drive, i'm operating mostly on adrenalin and shock and the only thing that really comes to mind as a topic right now is all the fucked up shit that just happened, which we just swore we wouldn't speak of. I'm not bloody starting and there's nothing else i want to talk about, mostly i want to crawl under a rock and cry. ..and i want a shower. And a tub of chocolate icecream. ..and a teddybear. ..or, in this case, a small grey squirrel, snuggled up against my intact breast, hugging me and...erm...carefully trying not to scratch me with her sharp little claws as she tries to comfort me. ...well..you know, it's hard to be angry with your wife if she's scratched the hell up, shivering with cold and the onset of anemia and about one more setback away from breaking down and crying like a child. ..even if she's trying her very damned best to atleast -look- strong and confident and in charge. ..that image of endurance and stalwartness is rapidly fraying though. ...i guess the way i cuddle the squirrel, stroke it's head with a gentle finger and murmur tenderly to it in slightly halting Russian doesn't really help. |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Friday, 3. October 2014, 13:30 Post #36 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron was in a sort of numb state of shock. He followed the directions with perfect obedience and sat quietly as each of the long cuts on his forearms received quite a number of stitches. Four long slashes crossing each forearm. He looked like he'd tried to wrestle a pair. Or played slap jack with a lion. Still at least they'd stopped bleeding once they were stitched. It had hurt like a bitch though and that roused him a bit from his stupor. Enough that when he was leaving he noticed Fox was cuddling a squirrel. His pale green eyes blinked in confusion. At first he thought it was a stuffed toy. That sorta made sense. He could have used a plush thing to hug right about then. Then it moved. Okay. A life stuffed squirrel playing the role of a teddy bear. That was just. That was. He didn't have words for what that was. But on the scale of 1 to Tonight's Weirdness that sort of rated a WTF, but was nowhere near the top. He reached up with a bandaged arm and rasped his hand though his hair. Where to even BEGIN trying to process everything that had gone on? He wasn't screaming and running in circles. So all things considered he was doing fairly well he thought. He took a few deep breaths and shivered all over. She had fur. On her back. LIKE A TIGER. That was just not normal. NOT NORMAL. They had just murdered the Tigerverine. Shit were mutants really? "So. Where to now Fox? Want me to drop you at your car, or your storage unit?" He'd take her wherever she wanted to go. Chewing on his lower lip and mumbling to himself the entire time. Not really audibly. Just. Confused. Things like "sanity" and "fur" and shit occasionally being more audible. He did his best to start the process of convincing himself he'd had another hallucination. |
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Friday, 3. October 2014, 21:09 Post #37 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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I get through buying a few shots of the 'Winter Wonderland Special' for the doctor slash cocainefiend slash crossdresser, with my usual grumpy curtness, spreading some extra money around for the dealer's silence then it's on to the doctor and his horrible women's fur coat, net-stockings and 'Dame Edna' wig to get our stitches, no questions asked, no questions answered and with the LSD mixed into his cocaine what he DOES remember of this evening is going to be a rather confusing series of gibberish. ..i need meat. What i'd really like is a fucking transfusion but i'm going to have to settle for meat, iron and sleep, god do i need sleep, but i don't want to sleep alone...well..i'm not really alone, am i? I've got my wife with me. Sort of. Kind of. "Just..please take me 'ome, i need a shower, i need a proper bed, sleep, a drink, proper fuckin' food, a cupboard full of fuckin' artillery and stuff i can barricade my 'ome with. You're welcome to stay with me and V." The next part is..probably to the squirrel since it's in Russian. "I'm sorry about what happened sweetie, i'm not even sure what happened i don't even know if that was real or a hallucination or whatever but i'm sorry, i LOVE you, i still love you, and i'd never cheat on you sweetie, we're still married and you're still my wife. You don't mind him staying right, he's good people." I cuddle the Vanya squirrel and she cuddles me, chittering softly and scampering her way up my shoulder to nuzzle my cheek. Then turns and sits on my shoulder to look at Cameron. ..it's doing that odd thing again where it's tapping it's paws together and..well..she tries to look sheepish, squirrels lack a lot of the facial cues humans can show. It does wave a little awkwardly. "V, Cameron, Cameron V. ..or well..she's in the squirrel." |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Friday, 3. October 2014, 21:30 Post #38 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron was quiet for a while as his brain tried to process what was going on. Crossdressing doctors. Blood loss. Painkiller free stitches. Then Fox was introducing him to a squirrel as her dead wife. He felt his grasp of reality starting to strain. In fact he was worried it was starting to snap entirely. The only bonus was so far he hadn't heard a single peep from that devil that had ridden his shoulder. No sign of auditory hallucinations. Which made him wonder how much of this was a burgeoning hallucination and how much was reality just getting far far stranger than he had ever suspected. He managed to keep it together until they pulled up to the storage unit that Fox was staying in. Or her apartment if she'd managed to get one. Once he pulled in before the thing he put his head down on the steering wheel and started to giggle, or cry. It was hard to tell which. He was producing a sort of weird hiccuping sound and tears were streaming down his face. "I'm cracking up again. That must be it. There can't be any way all of this is real. We didn't just murder a woman with tiger stripes on her back and talons that slid in and out of her fingers. We didn't rub all over each other licking her blood off each other's skins and we did not just get our wounds stitched up by a cross dresser. I'm hallucinating this all. Right? You didn't just introduce me to a squirrel and tell me that if was your passed on wife. I'm just, wrapped in a funny farm and you're paying me a visit. This is all some fucked up crazy nightmare I'm having." He continued that odd giggling weeping and just thumped his head over and over on the steering wheel. He shivered and took a deep breath. Then another. Trying to get himself under control. He had to stop freaking out or he was going to pass out from his own inability to get his breath. "I need to get really drunk. Or stoned. Something. I need to just, stop existing. For a little while. I can't take this shit right now. Life is not like this. There aren't mutant tiger chicks. There aren't angel women who drug people. There aren't ghost squirrels. This is just... to much. To fucking much Fox." Edited by Cameron, Friday, 3. October 2014, 21:35.
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| Siobhan 'Fox' Foxworthy | Saturday, 4. October 2014, 00:45 Post #39 |
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Bad Copper! No Cookie!
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Well no, i haven't actually bothered to get an apartment, unless we're counting the place the boys are staying in. But to be perfectly honest..i don't want to drag Cameron into that mess. ..even if we do make a pretty good team. That said and done, the silence is a little unnerving although not as much as the..laugh. That's not a healthy fucking laugh, that's the laugh of someone who's grip on reality is slipping. ..and to be honest i don't blame the guy. I'll admit i missed the tigerstripes..or the fur but..i'm quite ready to believe it. Sadly though, this stuff is happening, it's happened, we literally will have the scars to prove it. I hate to tell you this buddy but it's..I..it's.. I just...oh..fuck.. I carefully take Vanya The Squirrel off my shoulder to gently and carefully put her in my coat pocket, pressing my finger to my lip and muttering a few words in Russian before i gently try to pry Cameron off the steering wheel to hug my poor friend tightly, so he can't see my face while i get the bullshit flowing. "Give me just a moment sweetie, he needs this.." "Yeah, you're rite mate, this is just a bad trip. There's just somethin' wrong with the pot. You're 'avin a bad fuckin' trip, real bad. But it's okay.. none of that shit really 'appened. There's no demon chick with claws, we din't kill anybody, we just wandered around stoned. I tried to keep an eye on you tried to keep you safe but you went and tripped onna escalator, those things can tear you up somethin' fierce. That's what 'appened to your arms mate. And the crossdressin'? That's in your 'ead mate. It was a normal doctor althoguh 'e did 'ave a bit of a girly face... As for the squirrel? ..that's just..no squirrels 'ere mate. There's just me an you. But it's okay.. We'll get you into bed and i'm makin' you a good cuppa, you're gonna sleep like a rose and tomorrow it's gonna be a good day because this shit'll just be a bad memory of a really bad fuckin' trip. Just a bad trip. I'm sorry you fell, i'm really sorry and i'm sorry you 'ad to get through this. I'll take care of you, okay? I'll make it up to you, anythin' you need." ..i'm a crappy liar, i am. My ears turn red and my eyes dart around like crazy, i've got about a million tells but i've never, EVER tried as hard to suppress them and tell a convincing lie as i am now. ..and well, with me hugging Cameron to my..oh..right stitches..ow..ow...owowOW..fuck, fuckit, suppress it, don't make a fucking noise..get him inside, get him sleeping, get some warm tea and some sleeping pills in him and just help him forget that any of this was real, let him have that nice, comfortable lie. Please..please, please let him have that...please. |
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Fox has the build of someone who works out extensively, focused more on agility and endurance than power, at a guess she could be a long distance runner, possibly a gymnast. English Russian
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| Cameron | Saturday, 4. October 2014, 00:57 Post #40 |
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Failed Florist of Framlingham
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Cameron settled a bit with the hug and he took a few deep breaths. He was still crying a bit but he was settling a little. A part of him knew Fox was lying. But he needed it. He needed the lies and the deceptions and he needed today to just, not exist for a little while. He couldn't face it. He'd lost blood, he'd... drank blood... he'd snapped a girl's neck with a foot like he was playing football and aiming for a goal. He just needed to believe that lies that Fox was telling him for a while. Until he was stronger. Until he could face reality for the dark nightmare that it really was. He let the woman peel him off the steering wheel and he didn't fight when she guided him into her storage unit. He curled up on one of those comfy chairs of hers and shivered as the numb shock came back with a vengeance. His eyes glazing over a bit as he sipped the hot tea. He'd never felt so exhausted in his life. Not since he'd woken up from a coma and found out his parents were dead and he'd been in the hospital for over a year. He shivered, a soft convulsive twitch down the length of his body and just sipped the tea. His pale green eyes closing. It wasn't long before he was asleep. The tea cup held lightly in his scarred left hand, resting on a knee. Everything the day had just been to much for him to handle and that last explosive discharge of emotion had drained the last of his reserves. As soon as he was somewhere his brain registered as safe he started shutting down as his mind wrapped him in an unconsciousness designed to protect his fragile sanity. |
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1:15 AM Jul 11