Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Dec 16, 2015 18:06:58 GMT
Was he supposed to know how to do these things? Toss little packets of grain and cartons of not quite milk into a flimsy cup like it was natural? Max didn't have a clue how many sugars it took to please his taste buds, or how many creamers were needed to melt the tar-like blackness of the cheap, off brand coffee into a soft fawn color. He didn't even knew if he'd prefer it with more liquid or more sweetener. Shouldn't a man twenty-one years old and living on his own know how to take his coffee? Tough luck, kid, luxuries like this will just never fit him right- and ain't it just a little sad that dishwater coffee is considered something so out of reach?
Pitiful.
Though, not quite as pitiful as the choked sound vibrating off the walls of the girl's throat, ringing in his ears like a beg for help- for mercy. He'd set the cup of Joe, and who thought it was a good idea to call it that?, down on the ground and found his footing. Comforting wasn't his forte. He'd never been coddled as a baby, and movies didn't give enough instructions for how to deal with this. He set his hand on her shoulder, because that's what people do, right? A shushing sound escaped his lips and he couldn't recall giving his mouth the confirmation to let that out. Now words, he'd need to use those.
"Uh," great start, "Hey, it'll be okay," lies, "Here, sit. Breathe," eh, decent enough.
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Louly Summers
Annonymous
yo, just visiting!
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Post by Louly Summers on Dec 16, 2015 21:53:40 GMT
Louly shook her head when she heard his voice. As much as she wanted to open him up and see what made him tick, what they had in common; she didn't want him to try and console her. She shook her head without meaning. It took her a moment to realize why the room was spinning, and why her tongue suddenly tasted bitter. She sucked in a knife sharp breath and managed to muter, "Jesus-" in a winded voice.
She found control as quickly as she lost it. "It'll be okay. Just not now. Not for awhile now." She agreed stiffly, giving his hand on her shoulder a quick once-over to ground herself. Touch always seemed to sooth her. It brought her back.
It made her forget how much she loathed those goddamned wolves.
"I'm okay." She raised her hand to slip his hand off her shoulder, but stopped before she gave his wrist a gentle tug. She wasn't sure how he'd react. All she knew was that her throat wasn't being blocked by grief and her eyes felt less like battery acid had been flung in them and more like she'd seen an old couple holding hands at a diner. A few tears had leaked from her eyes, drying like sticky clay against her face. She didn't sit. She didn't apologize. She didn't burst into tears. She'd cry in her own time. Tears made people too uncomfortable.
"Do you not put anything in your coffee?" She asked as she swept a bushel of hair behind her ear. She picked up where she left off. 'Maybe I just needed to let it out a little. I dunno how he snapped me out of it so quickly,' she deliberated inside her head, 'maybe 'cause nobody's really touched me like that in awhile.' All she'd seen in the last months were frenzied kisses and lonely touches whenever things got too stressful in camp. They were hunters - all calloused hands and sacrifice. There was no real comfort in it, or not any she'd ever stopped to notice, considering the circumstances.
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Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Jan 1, 2016 3:29:43 GMT
Maybe he wasn't helping, cursed movies always got real life wrong, because the she was waving him off within moments of him actually touching her. So he tucked his fingers back into the depths of his pockets, glancing down at the ground when he'd noticed a few tears spill down her cheeks. He wasn't good at this. He never had to deal with this kind of thing in general. The only tears he ever had to wipe away were his own, so this? Yeah, no. Max wasn't good at the whole consoling thing. At all, it seems, for she was brushing off his words and changing the topic as if it hadn't happened at all.
He took it in stride, deciding as long as he wasn't expected to have some honest spiel or soft reassurances, than he was fine. She'd get a handful of witty comments and not quite answers. So at her question, Max found himself sat back on the end of the bed, but facing where she was standing a bit more, eyes darting to the cup on the ground for a moment before he shrugged and dared to meet her eyes. His voice was a tad hoarse, his own eyes red rimmed as he spoke, "I, uh, I don't know," smooth, "I mean, I've never really drank it. Not something we could," he didn't want to sound as poor as he was, so he muddled up some lie, "Not something we really came around much. My mom didn't care for it," liar, she nearly drowned herself in it, "So it wasn't around and I guess I just never really," his voice trialed off, so he shrugged. Where was he even trying to go with that? He knew better than to lie, it got him no where- or rather, in trouble. It always got him in trouble.
In desperate need to change the topic, he asked, "What about you?" His eyes darted to the nightstand where there were a few open sugar packets, "Just sugar?"
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Louly Summers
Annonymous
yo, just visiting!
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Post by Louly Summers on Jan 2, 2016 1:09:30 GMT
Louly's silent social cues came as a surprise to many. Nobody expected her to appear so soft and attentive. She closely resembled a very blonde, not-so-wise owl; her head oh so slightly cocked and her sleepy eyes watchful. "Well, hey - try it with lots of creamer. If it ain't your thing, I'll go for hot chocolate next time." She nodded, carelessly picking up where he left off despite the change in tangent.
"...ten," she finally responded to his question, but not without a slight grimace, "ten packs of sugar...it's an issue." She brushed her hand over her hair, slowly finding her senses and relaxing in the environment. She knew she shouldn't be talking with a socially awkward boy about coffee and pretending not to be completely charmed by him when there was a rogue wolf on the loose, but it'd been too long. She wanted to settle back into Beacon Hills for a night before work called again. It was clearly too much to ask out of the universe, but she decided to take it into her own hands.
She looked up as the floor began to thrum, and a moment later, music followed. She couldn't remember who sang the song, but she knew the beat enough from the radio. It sent goosebumps up her arms - just when she'd gotten rid of the chill from earlier. She smiled, glad it wasn't loud enough to drown out their conversation, but enough to lighten the mood in the room.
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Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Jan 2, 2016 18:33:41 GMT
Max visibly perked up at the mention of hot chocolate, the blood chipped under his fingernails and his hollow stomach momentarily forgotten at the promise of the delicacy- well, delicacy to him, he was rather easy to please. Then it hit him. Next time. He couldn't put his finger on what she'd meant. Next time they ran into each other? Next time his hands are smothered in deep red and tears are pooling down his face? Next time this is arranged because he's meant to be her friend? He didn't know why that last one seemed scarier than the others. He'd never been good at friends, didn't know what to do with them or how to maintain them or how to pour his heart out to one or how to trust one. He didn't know a lot. So he pursed his lips and nodded, glancing down at his coffee cup all on its lonesome on the floor. Maybe he could try the creamers, but all of a sudden his stomach twisted he couldn't fathom the thought of putting anything in him.
His eyes made his way over to her, eyebrow quirked at her admission. Shrugging, Max simply said, "It's not an issue if you like it." So what if she needed ten packets of sugar to bear the taste of coffee, Max wouldn't even touch the stuff long enough to pour a concoction of sweeteners in it to make it bearable. He respected that she could even handle the bitterness at all.
His thoughts were derailed effectively when a soft hum of music filled the air, and his gaze batted around the room in search of the source before finally falling to the floor. A phone. Her phone specifically, but a phone none the less. And it was making noise- to which he response was, "Shouldn't you get that?"
It was ringing, wasn't it? Or was some ghost needing some jams to make the mood- because at this point, if werewolves were real, he'd bet money there was a poltergeist chilling in the corner watching them, which was weird to think about because, you know, he gets dressed (and does other... things) in this room. Cough, voyeur ghost.
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Louly Summers
Annonymous
yo, just visiting!
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Post by Louly Summers on Jan 4, 2016 0:26:57 GMT
Louly was simmering in her own silence, considering whether to go and fetch him that hot cocoa after seeing his eyes pop like fireworks, or retreating to her own room to gift herself more than an 'on-the-go-women's' shower and try Teddy's number again (as if the "this number is not in service" spiel wouldn't play back this time). But no, things weren't quite that simple.
Her phone. Of course. "I'll - yeah, let me get that?" She tacked on an audible question mark at the end and wrinkled her nose apologetically before heading out to retrieve her phone, the cocooned butterflies in her stomach breaking open in a sunny excitement. It was a surprise she'd managed to excuse herself at all with the panic she was in.
...until she made it into the hallway and checked the caller. "Alp-haha" was flashing across the screen - not Teddy. Not even close. The nickname was for the leader of her group of hunters, hence the not-so-punny joke. Considering the fact she was on the run from their murder club, she didn't answer. She just stared at the screen with a heavily furrowed brow until the buzzing in her hand stopped, and she could breathe again. Her hands, tense and shaking with melancholy, shoved the phone back into the crevice between her two lacy bra cups.
She didn't want to go back into the room and force a poker face. So she did what a Louly does best: scamper off and forget her duties and come back with a gift and an apology to make up for it. In Max's case, the gift would come in the form of a large cup of hot chocolate, the smell lingering up and down the hallway as she made her way back to his room.
And knocked on his door, keeping her phone close to her heart, still hopeful. Still waiting.
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Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Jan 5, 2016 21:26:21 GMT
A nod was all he was able to give Louly before she was making her way over to the ringing phone and out the door. Sitting patiently seemed like the appropriate thing to do, then again, that wasn’t changing much. He wasn’t like this, not normally- kind of, he never really was a man of many words, but he was still more social than he was acting now. He’s never had someone else’s blood on his hands, a voice reminded him oh so kindly, but even that was a lie. When he’d clawed at a kid’s forearm to get him to release the hold on his throat, there’d been blood under his fingernails. He’d had a deep purple bruise ringing his neck, but the bullies left him alone for a while. When his step-father had advanced on him during his younger years, before he knew it was better to just lay back and take it, he’d bit hard on the man’s fingers and there had been blood then, painting the back of his hand after he’d wiped at his lips, just before a smack across the cheek knocked him unconscious. He’d woken up more than a little sore. When his mother had nearly overdosed on whatever new drug she’d wasted his lunch money on and knocked her head against the edge of the nightstand as she fell from unstable feet, the crimson liquid coated his fingers as he dialed nine-one-one. He couldn’t get the blood of the plastic for weeks. So there had been blood on his hands, just none of an innocent. He was tainted with the filth from others, but now? Now he felt pure- and it was so wrong, so bad, so dirty that he wanted to vomit again. How could he turn this woman’s death into something to benefit him? It wasn’t like the light she’d brought would seep into his pores- he’d always hold the darkness too close.
Max had to do something. He could stand the thoughts any longer, and threw himself into action. Louly had been gone much longer than he’d anticipated, so he distracted himself with cleaning up. Toss the empty packets into the feeble trash can in the corner. Drain his untouched coffee in the sink. Neaten up the blankets on the bed. He’d just finished placing the last pillow in place when there was a knock at the door, and while hesitant, he still pulled it open- eyebrows drawn in close as he took in the new cup and the anxiety written all over her face. Rather than addressing any of that, he simply nodded, and shuffled back a step- she’d need room if she was going to enter.
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Louly Summers
Annonymous
yo, just visiting!
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Post by Louly Summers on Jan 8, 2016 23:51:14 GMT
Louly's mouth twisted a bit, but she never followed through with the smile. She was all top eager to offer the to-go cup to him, the pooling moisture from it coating her hand, making her stomach churn with equal amounts of hunger and disgust at the clamminess collecting on her fingers. She couldn't think of anything to shatter the ice berg between them, so hot chocolate seemed like the fall-back.
It seemed better than the standard "so, how're you holding up?" "what's your favorite color?" - perhaps even "what do you think you saw tonight? Definitely something totally normal, right?" Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.
She cleared her throat, free hand moving to nervously rub the nape of her neck. But she couldn't muster a word, for such a bright-eyed, spunky girl.
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Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Jan 16, 2016 19:09:30 GMT
The cup, as it seems, being shoved in his direction, appears to be for him rather than another coffee for her. Hesitantly, he takes it, bloodshot blue eyes roaming over it for a moment, confused. Hadn't he just expressed his dire hatred for the vile drink? Clearly he needs to work on articulation, must not be clear enough to get his points across. Mother always did stress his need to speak up or shut up- mumbling got him nowhere. Glancing up at her from under his bangs, which were damp on the ends from when he'd splashed water on his face, he brought the cup warmer, seeking warmth from it if nothing else.
And that's when it hit him.
The smell.
His head snapped back up, eyes filled with awe as he brought the cup to his lips, sipping cautiously on the steaming hot chocolate. Max had a new appreciation for the girl, bless her soul. Swallowing it down, he blushed at how easily he was pleased, head turned down in a bashful manor as he tried to raise his voice from a murmur, "Thank you, Louly." His foot kicked at the dingy carpet softly, cup cradled to his chest as he met her eyes once more, expression much more somber as he asked, "Is this normal?" He gulped, worry and terror creeping into his features as he finally gathered enough courage to face his fear head on.
"The wolves, are they- will they- I just don't understand," his brow creased with confusion, and horror, and menace towards himself for being so stupid. He'd never be safe, it didn't matter how far he ran.
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Jan 16, 2016 23:28:24 GMT
Louly's tooth snagged hold of her lip and her hand lifted to anxiously rub at her nose before she answered. "You're welcome...but no, this ain't normal. Not by any means." She tried to smile at the way he said her name, so full of warmth. She'd always considered greeting someone specifically by name was intimate in a strange sort of way.
"It'll be handled. Stay out of any secluded places if you go out anytime. At least until I figure out what's going on." She leaned in and squeezed his shoulder gently; a gesture meant to be comforting. "I'm two rooms down to the left if you need anything, doesn't matter how late," that seemed like a given, considering they were well past the witching hour and darkness had reached its peak what seemed like ages ago. She knew the calm was from shock and sleeplessness. It would hit her later on.
She was going to need some help.
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Human
Written by Megan.
75 posts.
21 years old.
bi bi bi.
I am Male.
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Post by Maddox Kane on Feb 23, 2016 0:45:23 GMT
This isn’t normal, she’d said, and he couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or not. There would still be werewolves and they would still roam the nights, but at least they wouldn’t be as dangerous. It would be handled. He would be safe, if he didn’t do anything stupid, which was unlikely. Idiot just begging for trouble, here. Oh yeah, no. He wouldn’t be in any secluded places any time soon. He wouldn’t be leaving his room for a good week at least. He’d just watched someone die, in his arms nonetheless. Nope. He was toughing it out in these four walls.
Louly’s soft squeeze nearly startled him. When had reached out to touch him? How had he not noticed that? God, he just needed some sleep. Drown out the trauma with a few z’s. He bit down on his bottom lip to hold back the blush that wanted to paint his cheeks out how skittish he was being, though he believed he had good enough reason to be.
Max managed a weak smile as she gave him the information to his room, and if he had the guts to leave his room any time soon, then yeah, he’d definitely be visiting her first to get some intel on what the heck is going on here. He’d seen a lot of rough crap back ‘home’ but this? This was new. Something he’d have to learn to handle, because he wasn’t going back to his mother’s side anytime soon, and it wasn’t like he had the funds to high tail it out of this supernatural infested town.
So he gave her a curt nod, the softest of voices leaving his lips as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands, “Okay. I’ll- I’ll remember that.” A paused because he was overtly awkward and how did he even get this far in life? “I guess we should be getting some sleep then?” Alone was good, he thinks. Maybe not. Probably not, but oh well.
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Jun 11, 2016 3:54:04 GMT
Her pause before response gave some time for the inevitable 'how in the Hell are we expected to sleep when we just witnessed a murder?' thought to set in. "Yeah," she finally agreed, voice thick and heavy with the stress of the night lingering in her sinuses and vocal chords, leaving behind a painfully familiar roughness. "Goodnight. Sorry that you saw that. Sorry- yeah, just...sorry." She knew it was better to 'zip her lips' before she blabbered any delicate information to him, or perhaps gave him another thing to stress about, which seemed cruel by her judgement; he seemed petrified by life in general. Louly nodded and silently headed off to sleep, flicking the light off as he saw his way out.
She slept, but not well. The night felt angry around her, like it was tossing out a warning to her. And she knew well enough from her time on the streets, to trust her instinct.
Through the brief tosses and turns, she would stir and open her wide eyes to the bleak view of the wall and a set of shabby, stained, moss green drapes. She remembered the night and the next few to come, because she could not separate her dreams and moments of wakefulness. All she could recall clearly were whispers, some audible and some too husky and too low to comprehend. She would lose her appetite and hear ringing in her ears. She would think that grief was making her insane.
It would not take her so long to let out a shout of frustration one night, while asleep in an abandon hunter's cabin. But what came out was something that rattled the dishes inside of the cupboards, frighten squirrels back into their nests, and shock her into a terrifying realization.
Banshee.
---
After that, the whispers quieted. They only returned when she was close to death, whether it be a small woodland creature or her daily trek past the hospital grounds to grab a cup of coffee from the nearest 7-11. They became routine. But nobody knew. Even during her meet-ups with Maddox, she remained quiet about it. Louly found relief in the fact that she heard nothing when she was close to him. He was safe. Safe in the sense that he was not going to die in her presence, and safe to walk alongside so she could have a few hours of quiet inside her brain.
A month had since passed. But Louly was only preparing for the threat she heard whispers about; the threat she could feel in every fiber of her being. But for now, she was just simply Louly, walking side-by-side to Maddox, heading to grab a bite to eat. The June sun blasted against her shoulders. It was a comfortable pain - one she'd grown used to after her two summers of training to become a hunter. And honestly, she did not mind basking in the heat; a tan suited her well, and she would not deny herself the simple pleasure of cheap lunch and a decent tan. "I really need to find a job, you know? Mowing lawns ain't really cutting it anymore." She said, keenly aware that she'd have to start a conversation to get him to speak more than a few words.
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