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Ansel
Apr 13, 2016 17:10:43 GMT -5
Post by Decoii on Apr 13, 2016 17:10:43 GMT -5
Ansel let him go to the restroom and she found herself pacing back and forth for a second. She felt... Uneasy, and while the current mess of a situation should have been enough of a reason for her feelings, she couldn't rely just on that. From experience, she had always chosen to run when she felt this way and right now, she wanted to run. The small chill that danced under her skin and made her feel unsafe was getting to her and as she rubbed her arms, she decided that getting some fresh air wouldn't be that bad of an idea.
Moving to her kitchen, where the glass doors to the backyard were located, she took a couple of deep breaths to calm her slowly approaching panic attack. "Fuck my life entirely." She mumbled to herself as she paused and turned enough to be able to hear the water running from the bathroom. She had tried to make sure that Heathen was fine, and once she confirmed that he was, she turned back to the closed shade that kept people from seeing inside of her home. The closer she got to the doors, the more she could hear the muted outside world.
Ansel groaned and shook her head when she heard the annoying loud voice of the old hag that lived next door to her and simply slid her hand through the shades to unlock her door and slide it less then an inch open, enough for her to hear what the hag was bitching about this time. She made sure to be as careful as possible so that no movement would show through the curtain that kept her invisible. "-Heard growling. Growling!" Ansel heard the bitch say, and as she squinted through one of the small openings, she could see a clear masculine figure standing in front of the lady as she talked. "We're not supposed to have pets here, much less dogs! and let me tell you, that thing sounded like a beast.
"I knew that girl was crazy and if you said a wolf went missing then I can tell you, keep an eye on that one. She works at that shelter place that it went missing from too! I need to call Henry! Let him know! I don't feel safe he-" At that point, the buzzing in Ansel's ears rang loud enough for her blood to run cold and for her to stop listening. Slowly, she closed the door and locked it, taking a series of large steps away from the door as panic ran through every fiber in her body.
The panic attack hit her then, hard and cold. They found her. They fucking found her and that person standing in front of the hag was here to take her back. They were to close, she was fucked. Absolutely, positively fucked. Honestly, Ansel had no idea who the person was or even if they were a shifter or not. But with her panic attack, she didn't care- she wasn't thinking clearly. She hadn't even noticed Heathen leave the bathroom and when she heard his voice, she jumped high in the air and gave a weak yell of surprise.
Instantly, she focused her trembling hands to cover her mouth as her watery eyes darted back and forth to take in the room around her before focusing on Heathen. Seeing that he wasn't a threat, her knee's gave up on her and she slid to the floor, whimpering nonsense under her constricted throat.
She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Soon, when they came for her, she probably wouldn't be breathing either.
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Ansel
Apr 16, 2016 23:08:27 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2016 23:08:27 GMT -5
Heathen really did not take the lack of immediate response as, well, anything for that matter. His thoughts, he found, were elsewhere. For he had began to wonder on exactly just how long had he spent away from home. Days? Weeks? He couldn't recount if she had given him the time, the date, and his perception of time had all but gone askew. That last part had gone on for a long time. However, he did find some semblance of... Was it sanity? Littl things in his home helped him hold on to his threshold of humanity. The ticking of a clock. A calendar with kitten pictures hung up by the kitchen. Small things.
Things he couldn't see here. Not that he planned on staying. But not having much knowledge on time scared him a little.
He blinked, gulped, and suddenly looked down. Blinking again, and taken aback, Heathen took a step back and away from the woman, Ansel. Something had obviously changed, had gone horribly wrong in her eyes, and he could not help but feel as if he had been the cause of it. Some primal anger and instinct for survival suddenly welled up in his chest and threatened to escape through the very pores of his skin, but it all stopped when he stared at her in confusion and worry. He could see fear. Pure fear, at least it was what he could make out. This fear that... He wondered if he had been the cause yet again and found himself unable to answer that question.
Quite frankly, Heathen knew he should be the scared one between the two.
"H-Hey. I... I'm sorry if I made things bad somehow. I know I'm not someone that people would want to keep around. Not now at least." He looked around the room once more, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Just feintly he could hear voices from outside the apartment, listening in a little better than what he could have before, but it wasn't as deafening as when he was transformed anymore. A slightly sqwered balance. People were talking, but he certainly could not make out proper sentences. Just a few words. Dog. Animal. They must have been talking about him, and in that immediate moment he remembered very well and clearly his actions. Just ten minutes prior.
Of course. He had been the cause of this. "L-Listen I..." He noticed her trembling hands and felt his own reacting in a similar fashion. He closed his hands into fists tightly in a vain effort to keep them from trembling so. "I kmow I did bad. I-I'm sorry I need to go before I make things worst." Heathen was backing away, stumbling stupidly against a chair and falling back on his ass before clambering back up on his feet. He felt his throat constrict for a mere moment as he took in a deep breath. "Thank you for helping me. I'm sorry!"
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Ansel
May 6, 2016 18:29:34 GMT -5
Post by Decoii on May 6, 2016 18:29:34 GMT -5
She was a Queen.
They treated her as such from the moment that he claimed that she was his. Ansel didn't understand what this meant- she was barely now starting to understand the drastic change that her parents put her through. She had always known about the monsters under the bed and she never feared them. She had grown up believing that they should fear her parents. But when her parents got mixed up with a group of shifters, she was more then excited.
Everyone in her old school would call her parents weird and freaks, she was often bullied for this and even though she loved her parents and believed them with all her heart she'd never seen one of these 'supernatural creatures' like they called them. So when she did, when she saw people turn to wolves she was ready to prove the world wrong.
But she'd been the one wrong.
The moment that she opened her mouth in school about the shifters, her parents had received a phone call from a concerned teacher and she'd been taken out of public school the next day. Two days later, they were leaving town and moving in with the shifters. Soon after that she'd forgotten everything about her previous life and was training to protect the king- Her king.
She didn't understand how, at the age of ten, she was to become the mate to a 32 year old Alpha. She hadn't even been bitten yet- just her mother and father. Two months after the announcement, her father died. It wasn't until long after, seven years later, that she discovered that her own mother had killed him because he wasn't loyal to her king- the Alpha.
She was twelve when she'd gotten her first period.
Two days after she was bitten, by the end of the week he was already mating with her.
Ansel didn't understand why she was freaking out to this extent. Maybe it was nothing but then again... She was never sure and she was never safe. Years of training made her a warrior, The more wrong she felt in the pack the more she'd train and study. Become smart and strong, her father used to tell her this while he lived and although she never understood his fascination over the supernatural she understood one thing. It was the ambition and desire of discovery that drove them to find the pack. They'd fallen in love with the idea of this whole new world and for her mother- she loved it more then she loved him or her own daughter.
She killed her father and handed her daughter to a pervert on a silver platter and didn't even question it. In fact, the many times Ansel had gone crying to her mother after she'd been touched in ways that she couldn't understand and hurt in ways that she'd never been hurt before her mother had simply done nothing more then scream at her and attempt to beat some sense into her.
Because Ansel was a Queen. A lucky little bitch that has everything anyone can desire and should have no room to complain. Ansel was going to fight and lead the pack to victory and until they defeated every other abomination and concurred over every fake Alpha until only the true Alpha ruled- Ansel needed to get her shit together and worry about HER pack and HER King. Of course Ansel would sober up quickly, mother knew best.
It wasn't until she was fourteen that Ansel had been hurt enough to not simply bow to her mother and take a beating on top of it. The one time she thought of stopping her mothers hits was the one time that someone overheard the fight and told the Alpha.
Her mother went missing after that.
At the age of sixteen she was deem strong enough to go out on a raid. At the age of sixteen she fucked up enough to be now actively running away from a monster who viewed himself as a God, the pack he controlled, and the pack that searched for the killer of the son of their Alpha.
"I'm dead." She said, voice cracking as she looked at the floor. Why was she even crying? It didn't matter because she was convinced that she was going to be... She didn't even know. The worse they could do is take her back to her royal crown. The best they could do is kill her. "They... They found me and I'm dead." She said louder, covering her face as she trembled. Of course Heathen would put her through so much shit just to leave the second that things got slightly complicated.
"-And if you open that door.... You're dead too."
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Ansel
May 7, 2016 1:02:02 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 7, 2016 1:02:02 GMT -5
It was those final words that caused his world to, once again, come crashing down. Heathen was not prepared to be hearing such thoughts come from such honest lips, was not ready to face such a finality. The other side of him, the monster living in him, would have embraced that risk at the promise of more of that sweet flesh ripped straight from the source. But this wasn't what he was now. Heathen was Heathen, a man unprepared for the world around him, wishing he was dead yet also praising the fact that he wasn't.
Now? He couldn't help but stop dead in his tracks and stare right at the door, gulping what almost felt like dry saliva as a ringing came back to his ears, pupils dilating before settling themselves once more, his focus shifting from the door to the surrounding walls, to the door so many times that he suddenly began to feel dizzy, and his legs preached promises of giving out under him. He turned his head towards Ansel, finding no answers in her fear-riddled eyes, and as he back stepped slowly away from the door, he found himself once more with his back to a wall as his breathing became ever more erratic. Heathen once more turned his head towards Ansel, seeking answers, unable to utter a word as he pressed himself further back against a wall, almost knocking over a porcelain vase with his right elbow.
Laughably, it was that small physical contact that got his mind to snap away from the door and kept her words from repeating over and over again in his head. "Th-Think," he whispered, his lower lip quivering ever so slightly as he ran the fingers of his left hand through his hair, before scratching at the back of his neck a little more roughly than what he had wanted to in the first place. "Think," he whispered once more, and then began to mumble the word repeatedly, less in an attempt to try and come up with a viable solution for his - no - their survival, and more to keep himself distracted enough that he wouldn't suffer a nervous breakdown the way Ansel seemed to have suffered.
He didn't know how to fight. He couldn't consciously bring himself to kill when he was in control (as was the case at the moment), and he really wasn't the brightest tactical mind in the world. All his skills went into art and cooking and following general orders on what to do. Small, practical things that had kept him happy and occupied. Heathen knew that he wouldn't live
That nervous breakdown was edging ever so closer, threatening to take over his sanity, until he finally turned to look at Ansel. "Y-You!" He pointed at her with a trembling finger as he turned his body in order to face her more directly, although he did not move from where he stood. In his position he was about halfway across the room away from her. A good enough distance to not feel like he was crowding around her or she was crowding around him. "We... We need to leave Ansel," he began, trying to talk slowly yet finding his tone of voice slowly pacing up and up to the point where his own ears had a hard time keeping up, although that must have been more because of how disoriented he was feeling. "We can't die. We need to go we need to find a way out I... I mean you make it sound like you knew this was going to happen so you must have some... Some some some contingency, something, anything."
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Ansel
May 14, 2016 17:47:01 GMT -5
Post by Decoii on May 14, 2016 17:47:01 GMT -5
She wanted to laugh.
In all honesty she didn't think there was anything more appropriate to do in that one very moment other then laugh at the stupid shit that was going on. He had been so ready to leave and now he was turning to her and asking her to help him stay alive? Honestly, what was wrong with this guy?
She'd saved his life and so far she had been willing to help him. Yet, he was willing to bolt at the first sign of problems with a quick reasoning as to not cause anymore problems to her and she honestly couldn't believe the stupid shit she was hearing. Slowly, she looked at Heathen as he moved away from the door and gave him a look that clearly showed her distaste for him at the moment.
He was a big piece of shit.
"Oh, now you're scared?" She asked as she slid off of the floor and stood up. Panic attack over, she knew that every second she spend wasting her time arguing could cause them to get captured or murdered but at this point, she had had enough and just couldn't sit back and be a good little girl anymore.
"Tell me, now that you're better you're just thinking of leaving. Going about and leaving all this mess behind while I stay here and deal with the people who are looking for that wolf? Is that it? You're going to bolt at the first signs of a mess and leave me to deal with it because you don't want to cause anymore problems? Well, guess what? These problems aren't doing to disappear when you do but I guess it's my fault for saving your life anyways. So, tell me.... What makes you think that I'm going to try to keep you alive? So that you can leave me to die the first chance you get to save your own skin? No thank you."
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Ansel
May 14, 2016 20:07:39 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 14, 2016 20:07:39 GMT -5
He should have known. Heathen shouls have known that things were not straight cut black and white in this world of monsters in which he now found himself to be an unwilling participant. He should have known that a person who helped him could very easily turn skin and refuse to help him. Yes he saw her side and he knew what she had meant by him turning and running for his own skin. But that's always what he had done from the beginning. Turning and running, first from the family he didn't like, then from the pain he didn't enjoy suffering, then from the monster that he had become, and finally from the possible death that was around the corner.
He gulped, once more backing away and unable to formulate any words. Not even a semi-coherent reply came to mind. His eyes scanned his surroundings left to right, the fingers on his right hand twitched in anxiety every few seconds; Heathen could feel the sweat running down his forehead and it in itself was bothering him more and more.
"F-Fine," he replied, a nervous wreck, yet trying his best to sound as assertive and kept together as he could. Though had he watched himself from outside, he knew it was a faltering conviction. He could make it out of this. He could. "I can make it out of this," he repeated out loud, trying to convince myself more than anything, yet hoping that somehow, for some reason, she would stop him.
Heathen figured that was hardly the case any longer.
His body sapped quickly to the right, then to the left, his eyes disoriented and confused. Back and forth he kept scanning from tue front door, to the back door, to the front door again, yet all he could bow think about was to go back home and paint. Heathen just wanted to paint. He wanted to paint, and find a buyer, anyone willing to pay enough to at least afford to pay for the home before it was sent to foreclosure. He wanted to paint and live, and keep his mind distracted long enough that he would forget what he was.
"I'm going to be normal again," he said out loud, a determination in his voice that didn't match his legs as he stumbled sideways, almost as if his feet had not responded for a split second to the rest of the movement of his body. He instinctively went for the front door, ignoring everything around him, and reached for the handle.
His hand stopped short just a few centimeters from the door handle. His eyes, wide and unblinking. He could almost feel the palm of his hand grazing the cold surface. He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing, shaky with every inhale and every exhale. Heathen was stopped short dead in his tracks, reaching for the handle, having been ready to leave, not by his own will but rather by a sudden silence that had enveloped his being. Like the rest of the world had suddenly stopped being.
Then came the loud ringing. He silently stumbled back, to the nearest chair, and collapsed on it as he cupped his head in his hands, his nose now bleeding profusely for a solid three minutes yet he made no attempt to stop it. Finally, the ringing in his ears had ceased, and the bleeding slowed to a frightening halt, and a he could do was sit and question himself. No, not over what he was, but what he had just done.
How stupid could he be.
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Ansel
Jul 11, 2016 23:08:14 GMT -5
Post by Decoii on Jul 11, 2016 23:08:14 GMT -5
With a slow blink, her racing mind slowed down long enough for her to realized that she hadn't been as calm as she'd previously believed herself to be. Her breathing had been labored and she wondered if it made her voice higher in her panic and anger. She hadn't meant to freak out and she realized that lately, that's all she's been doing.
Ansel wasn't used to being around people outside of her work. Human or otherwise and as soon as she'd be anywhere within one mile of another shifter, she was running away and erasing everything about her. Even if they had nothing to do with her situation or who she was really running from. To her, the paranoia of the 'what if' was enough to cause her to panic. Yet, here she was. Not only was she with another shifter, but he was in her home and she'd helped him.
Could she really let him walk away from her like this? In this state that he was he would more then likely find himself in a bad situation or exposing what he was to the general population. What if someone found him and made him talk? Whoever had been after him had gone to her work place in an attempt to get his body after all. He was more trouble then he was worth, it seemed; But at the same time it felt like she couldn't abandon him the way he'd attempted to abandon her.
Quietly, she whispered a small "Fine" as he walked to the door and tried leaving. She couldn't stop him either, could she? At the moment it felt like she couldn't do anything at all- she could barely have a straight line of thinking and that bothered her more then anything else. "Fine," She repeated as she watched him silently, observing the next couple of long minutes in pure silence before she forced herself to walk to the kitchen and bring back a couple of napkins so he can clean the blood that leaked from his nose as he sat down. She was concerned over his wellbeing and she mildly worried that he'd just drop dead from stress and lack of nutrition. Slowly, she offered the napkin before closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to fight off the rapid forming migraine. "Don't lie to yourself, Heathen. Things aren't okay and they won't just magically go back to normal... Whatever 'normal' is." She softly said before laying the napkin on his lap and moving a couple of steps backwards and away from him. "But one day this will feel like normal." She added as an after thought before sighing again.
The words felt like a tied mess on her tongue and she was stumbling and stuttering in odd places as she tried to explain what she thought and felt. She'd never had to talk to anyone else about something personal. All she did was run and pretend. This situation was as scary for her as it was for him. "Look, we can't change the past. Whatever piece of shit bit you and turned you- we can't stop that. You're not the first person to go through this shit and you won't be the last... But..." Sighing, she paused "I sound like-like a bitch but I don't know how to word these things any better at the moment or how to explain myself. I've never been in this situation. No one ever comes close enough to know who I am or what I am and if they do? I run."
She slid to the floor slowly, knowing that they didn't have time for this shit but knowing that it was probably a bit too late and there was no saving them. "I... I have people after me and I have... My upbringing wasn't the most normal thing ever. To me, normal... Normal is fucked up but you'll be sick and you'll not be okay mentally without some help. You need to accept things and fight through them and eventually you'll be stronger and you'll be put together again. You won't be the same, you'll never be the same, but you'll be yourself and I guess that has to matter for something right?"
She paused for a couple of long moments before glancing off to the side and standing up. "It's all... Pretend. The more we pretend to be okay the more we believe it." This was the most honest she's been about herself to someone else for so many years. She couldn't remember the last time she said her true name out loud and the word 'Ansel' was all she had of herself left. "Hunters and packs survive by staying together. Each person helping in their own little way becoming stronger. You're a hot mess right now and it shows clearly, hell, you'll probably be the death of me but I can't just abandon you after all the shit that already happened. It's... It's not my personality I suppose. But I can help you get away you just have to stay strong and trust me because at the slightest mistake- we're both dead Heathen. "
"I guess the real question I'm trying to ask is if you want to survive this or die?"
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Ansel
Jul 28, 2016 2:34:42 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2016 2:34:42 GMT -5
Silence was all that Heathen could honestly give in return. Silence, but he did not know why. Well, rather, he did not want to think about why he said nothing. Her words, however, were not ignored. Not in the least. Focusing on them kept him from concentrating on himself and at the moment that was all he needed. Sitting there, on the ground, Heathen almost felt as if he had lost all feeling to his body. The soft napkin landing on his lap brought him back a little. With trembling fingers he took it as if it were something contaminated, carefully lifting it before dabbing an edge against the blood that now coated his lips and chin. The bleeding had stopped on its own but the pain was still there. He bit his lip and fought to keep himself from fixing his hair out of habit. What was there to fix? Nothing was normal anymore. Ansel telling him that he would never be his old self again did not exactly hit him as hard as it should have.
It was almost as if Heathen had already come to terms with that. But... no. He hadn't. In fact, Heathen was more than sure that he had not even given it thought. Not in the sense that he never bothered to think that he would or would not ever be back to his old self with his old life, but rather that he had almost convinced himself that everything would go back to the way it was and that things at the moment were merely just a series of bad dreams of which he would wake up from soon enough. Bad dreams, how he wished it were so. "Things..." He paused and softened his voice. His hearing was still hyper-sensitive. His own voice sounded like a yell. Heathen was exerting more energy and concentration in trying to drown out all the sounds from his ears than he was to remembering to breathe. After a second, still dabbing a now blood soaked napkin against his nose and lip (merely to keep his two hands busy), Heathen continued on, softer. "They will not be normal?" His hushed whisper threatened to burst his eardrums. The pain and struggle was starting to become evident on his now sweating face, flushed a quickly darkening red. "I'm just scared," he explained, sorrowfully. "I came here alone, but I was myself. Then I wasn't alone, b-but I wasn't myself anymore. And I was shown a life I could live, and learn to be myself again. And then... I was alone again. Confused. Noises. Smells. Terrified. I feel things I never wanted to feel... and..."
A soft sigh was all he could make to finish off the sentence, but to him that sigh was more than enough. In his head it represented his lackluster conviction to go on any longer. Learning was the least of his concerns. All he now wished was for the madness to stop. "I don't... I don't want to die?" Heathen bit his lip, having felt the need to question himself out loud at that moment. "No... I-I don't want to die." He finally reassured after a solid minute of silently thinking to himself. "B-But I don't know what to do. I've... Things aren't okay and people want me dead and I don't know how to run away from it all." He licked his lips, tasting his blood, and shuddered in disgust at the subconscious thought of just how delicious his blood tasted, and how much better it would be with flesh being torn apart between his teeth.
Heathen finally got up from the floor and used the nearest wall as support to his weak legs. His head ached a little now but slowly things were getting better. His hearing was going back to as normal as it could get, a level at which he had learned to tolerate the sounds, and his ever-shifting sense of smell had gone back to what he was used to. "I... I have nothing more to lose," explained Heathen, "than my own life. S-So... if you want my trust, then you have it. Better you than me, because I don't know what to do with it myself." Heathen finally straightened himself out, biting away some of the blood that had dried against the curve between his chin and his lower lip. He stayed close to the wall, just in case. He still did not feel confident in his balance. "I... I just need a moment. Please, to collect myself. U-Usually when I... When I come back to being... me," he lifted up slightly his left hand to show he talked of being a human again, "I... It takes me hours to be okay again. A-And that's when I'm alone. There a-aren't any stress and I'm just trying not t-to think about anything just so that... so that I... I...." his voice trailed off to silence and his eyes flicked away from her. "... I just need a minute."
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