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Lyrca
Captain

PostPosted: Tue Oct 18, 2016 9:56 pm



                                                & BREATHING IN THE CHEMICALS

                                                CREATED BY LYRCA
                                                │· Residential.
                                                │· Odin's Apartment.
                                                │· Closed Thread.
                                                │· Odin & Ruven.
PostPosted: Tue Oct 18, 2016 10:10 pm


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                                                                      __________________________ I DIDN'T ASK FOR MY OWN LIFE, BUT I'LL TAKE IT
                                                                      x ᴏᴅɪɴ ᴄʏᴘʀᴇss

                                                                          Odin used to think about murder a lot. When he was a child when he woke up on the floor and began to cry because he hurt and turned his head to see his favorite stuffed animal was torn to pieces. His screams only got louder as his slave Mason came running in and tried to explain he thought he would have been good to give Odin his favorite animal to comfort him. The werewolf never liked Mason after that. The a*****e had sacrificed Odin’s favorite possession and that traumatized brain stuffed inside Odin’s head never forgave him, even as a teenager he still found a pocket of hatred Mason could never climb out of. As a child, Odin used to fantasize it had been Mason who died instead.

                                                                          As the moon began to swell Odin’s violent thoughts bounced around in his head more. No. These weren’t violent thoughts, at least not anymore. They were violent memories now. Odin didn’t picture the things he wanted to do, he now pictured the things he had done. All the times he slammed a teal head of hair against his pillow and tried desperately to take out all his frustrations in his hips. All the times he’d stomped on a wrist or beat his cell-neighbor's face into a bloodied pulp. Things were different now, because in prison it wasn’t one sided anymore. Odin wasn’t the only victor in his flashbacks. Each time Odin thought of Hotts’ nose snapping beneath his fist he re-lived that ******** kid stabbing at his with a shank. Buzzzz. Was that how it sounded? Was that how bugs felt when they got electrocuted from those bug-zappers? No. Odin didn’t remember what it sounded like. One moment he was standing there glancing at the shank sticking out his side, the next he was on the floor in pure shock. Anytime he remembered absorbing his cellmate. Holding him, pinning him, petting him. Even the soft memories quickly were torn away and replaced with...

                                                                          Clasp.

                                                                          Odin’s hand flew up and wrapped itself around his neck. His nails began to dig against the skin and he started clawing at his throat. His swelling tongue. His throat squeezing so tight he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t breathe. A snake wrapped itself around his lungs and began to constrict. His poor tiny heart began to take uneven pounding attempts before it was popped like an overinflated balloon. His whole body was about to shut down. This was it. This was it this time. Odin pulled himself to the side and leaned against the wall as a splatter of spit left his mouth with the most ungraceful attempt at breathing. Panic attack. Odin reminded himself as his eyes quickly lifted from the floor. Happened sometimes now. The floor is wood. The floor is brown. The walls are gray. The walls are paint. The fridge is white. The fridge is dirty. The bed is red. The bed is blankets.” Odin only gripped harder round his neck as he tried to stop it. He frantically began to run through random objects near him so he didn’t have to get dragged from reality. He was in his apartment. He wasn’t surrounded by them. Nobody was holding him. Nobody was hitting him. Nobody was choking him. There was nothing in his throat. There were no snakes on his lungs. It was so hard to remember there were no snakes on his lungs.

                                                                          Gasp.

                                                                          Odin wasn’t sure how long it would be until he could catch his breath again as his body refused to cooperate. The werewolf never knew what to say when his therapist asked him what topic he wanted to start with. Odin didn't want to tell anyone he left his cellmate and the male's best friend for dead. That they'd been carried out of prison in a body bag after he left. He didn't want to tell of the things he did to them that they needed to deal with before they died. He didn't want to admit the new wave of empathy that shattered his heart to pieces as he was placed on the other end. All the werewolf could do was drop to his knees as his skull beat the s**t out of him from one flash of memory to the next. Odin's definition of skull ********> was completely different than it had been a year ago. He leaned against the wall gripping his chest tightly with one hand as he tried to prevent the heart failure. When the panic attacks were bad Odin was convinced it was the end. That something was wrong with him and this was the last thing he'd ever do before he dropped dead. His other hand was still tightly wound around his neck as though it was threaded together by nothing more than a sewing needle and without support would fall straight from his neck and go rolling to the wooden floor. Still gasping for air. Still on the verge of crying. Still tense as can be hardly able to keep himself in one piece.

                                                                          Alykia

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Lyrca
Captain


Alykia

Confident Dreamer

25,075 Points
  • Person of Interest 200
  • Conversationalist 100
  • Skill Up 50
PostPosted: Wed Oct 19, 2016 9:41 am


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                      The elf was in the bathroom tending to his bodily functions when Odin started to breakdown. It wasn't until he flushed the toilet, washed his hands and opened the door to the bathroom that he noticed something was wrong. His first thought was, 'ugh what is it this time?' Ruven watched from the doorway as he analyzed the situation. The guy was grabbing his neck as if he just ingested something dangerous--or maybe felt like his airway was closing. That was when a gasp managed to escape from Odin's mouth. This situation was quite different from anything he had experienced in the past. Something seemed terribly wrong and it made him glance toward the front door. Ruven wanted to get the hell out of there. That was his instinctive reaction; but he didn't for some reason. The elf took a quiet step forward whether or not he had been noticed at that point or not. That's when he saw the hand that was gripping Odin's chest. Wait, was he having a heart attack!? s**t. He had no idea what was going on. His mind raced through things he learned as a way to try to find the answer; but there was no way he would figure it out. He just didn't have any information besides what he was currently witnessing.

                      Odin never really revealed much about himself in the first place. Whenever they had a decent conversation it was rather short. The only time they might have done something that others would see as a bonding experience was when they went for a run or to the gym. Of course Ruven wouldn't even consider those moments as hang out time. Hell, the first time they went to the gym Odin overworked his elven body to the point that he was sore for weeks--at least that seemed to be the case. After that they might have gone to the gym together; but they didn't interact. Ruven took it upon himself to watch how the other went about it before figuring out a routine that worked for him. As for the runs, Odin always left him behind. It was frustrating to see how hard it was to keep up; but that probably motivated him more than anything else would. It was a small victory in his eyes every time he happened to keep up a noticeable amount longer. Still, he would never considering that a bonding experience. The brunette merely wanted to work on his body as much as he used to work on his mind. That's the main reason he hung out with the other elf; although their activities focused on their elven traits. He wasn't training with his buddies. Ruven was just using these people to better himself. There was no bonding involved.

                      That is what he told himself; but his current actions might have said otherwise. After all, he was now kneeling next to his owner instead of trusting his gut and slipping out the front door. Ruven could have said that he was told to do an errand and was absent when this happened--assuming that he was questioned because it caused his owner's death. It was too late now though. He would just have to deal with the consequences. "What's wrong? Do you need me to get anything? Call 911?" His tone didn't sound worried; but it might have been laced with a bit of concern. The elf definitely didn't know what to do and wasn't even sure if it would have been a good idea to try to get him to calm down with a gentle touch to the shoulder. That's why he didn't attempt to make any type of physical contact with the werewolf.

                      Ruven was looking for guidance from the other when he asked those questions because he couldn't think of anything else. It was true that the elf was confident when he knew what was going on and how to handle the situation; but when he didn't that was another story. The brunette doesn't normally act without knowing the details and that's all there was to it. He had to be sure his actions were correct before he just did something on his own accord. In this situation he only knew that Odin was having a hard time breathing and that his lungs or heart might be in pain. That wasn't a lot to go on really--maybe calling 911 was the best decision in this situation.
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                LOCATION: At the apartment with Odin.
                What would you do if your freedom was unjustly striped away from you?
PostPosted: Tue Oct 25, 2016 10:31 am


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                                                                      __________________________ I DIDN'T ASK FOR MY OWN LIFE, BUT I'LL TAKE IT
                                                                      x ᴏᴅɪɴ ᴄʏᴘʀᴇss

                                                                          Shaky fingers were clinging tight to Odin’s tongue as he tried to press down on the slimy limb. Was it normal size? Was it swollen? How the ******** did you tell how thick a tongue was supposed to be anyways. The moment he heard the bathroom door open Odin tore his hands away and his brow tensed as it pulled at his forehead. His heart was still heavily thumping through his neck as his glazed over eyes were impossible to hide. The air that tore through his lungs was loud and unsettling. Ruven noticed almost immediately, looking at the werewolf that couldn’t even bring himself to his feet. Trapped. Pinned to the wall by ghosts that were inches away from biting his neck. From tearing his flesh away and laughing as they ripped out his windpipe. They’d probably whip each other with the internal organ before eating it while they ignored Odin as he choked on his own blood, the last embarrassing noises he’d make would be gargling away at the warm liquid as it filled his lungs.

                                                                          Holy ******** pull yourself together. Odin quickly snapped at himself trying his hardest to gain composure. They ain’t here. They ain’t here. They ain’t here.

                                                                          Ruven was slow as he came next to Odin, kneeling besides the monstrous creature. ”What’s wrong? DO you need me to get anything? Call 911?” Yes. Odin did need an ambulance. He wanted a doctor to be in Ruven’s shoes telling him exactly what was happening and that it was all in his head. He wanted the doctor to say even though he felt like he was dying it was all some trick his brain was playing so he could tear himself from the floor and ignore it and pretend he was normal. So, the words came out rather quickly before Odin had much time to think it through.

                                                                          ”Ye-es.” Though almost as quickly as the word left his lips, Odin’s arm shot out to grab hold of the elf’s forearm. ”N-no.” Odin immediately took it back. ”F-fu-uck off I’m fin-ne.” The werewolf demanded with words that seriously struggled to leave his throat. Even with his aggressive words the werewolf’s hand was still tightly gripped round Ruven’s forearm. Clearly, the elf wasn’t going to be able to leave until Odin let go. The werewolf’s shaky fingers digging into Ruven’s sleeve. Odin always cut his nails short, so there was little chance he’d draw blood, light bruises round where he was holding was a possibility though.

                                                                          Odin wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t let Ruven leave. Perhaps the elf helped him block away the ghosts that were trying to get at him. Because it helped Odin stay closer to reality instead of torn into purgatory where he was stuck observing everyone he’d known get dragged down the 9 rings of Hell. At the bottom layer the worst men in history were supposed to be trapped with the Devil, but instead of Odin taking his rightful place there were three filling in for him. Mallory, Julian, and Leon all hanging from the Devil’s mouth as his teeth grinded into their flesh. Odin had never understood what the Throne of Dirt or Empire of Dirt people spoke of until he learned you could make other people suffer just for you to get ahead.

                                                                          ”No.” Odin quickly released his tight grasp from Ruven’s forearm and used the wall to help tear himself to his feet. Odin’s legs felt like jello as he pulled himself forwards. ”Brown fl-loor. Wood floor.” He spoke. ”Re-ed blankets. Bed blankets.” He was fine. He was totally fine. Look at him examining the room. Odin came to the small kitchen area and his fingers began to hit against the counter over and over as he shook his head. ”Sink. Si-ink. Ink. Si-i-lver.” And without warning the silverware drawer was torn from it’s position and Odin threw the whole drawer towards the open space near his bed. The utensils hit the wooden surface and made a mess. Next, Odin grabbed the toaster and tore it from the wall quickly dropping it to the ground as though it were smoldering metal that burned his hands. He kicked it towards the silverware. Next were the pots that hung from the shelves. They made a ear-curdling sound as they were all smashed against one another as they were added to the pile.

                                                                          The werewolf moved over the pile he’d begun to make and tore a small fan that was resting on a side table near the foot of the bed. He ripped the blade’s cage apart before throwing it to the floor. Next was a can on a table, still half full, that the werewolf threw down to the pile allowing a new coat of the sticky drink to coat all the objects he began to obsessively gather.

                                                                          Alykia

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Lyrca
Captain


Alykia

Confident Dreamer

25,075 Points
  • Person of Interest 200
  • Conversationalist 100
  • Skill Up 50
PostPosted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 10:37 am


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                      The first response was a bit surprising; although he didn't show it. Odin wasn't the type to admit that he needed help. The fact that he said yes, regardless of how quickly it was revoked, made the situation serious compared to anything else Ruven had experienced. The elf glanced down at the hand that was suddenly latched onto his arm. No blood was drawn; but it definitely hurt. It was quite possibly that he would find bruises there later. Ruven didn't try to break free though. That was because he felt like it would only make things worse. Instead, he returned his gaze to his owner as he barely uttered some nonsense about being fine. Anyone could tell that he was not okay. Trying to put on a front in this situation was just pointless. Still, he wasn't about to mention that to the guy. Silence seemed to be his best option at the moment. Ruven just didn't trust himself to say the right thing--assuming there was something he could say that would actually help.

                      Then he was released right before Odin went to stand up. The elf stayed in the position on the floor for a second before he got up as well. His eyes watched the werewolf while he rubbed his injured arm subconsciously. The guy was uttering stuff that made him sound like a lunatic; but Ruven assumed it was really an attempt to stay under control. Regardless of the actual reason behind those words, the elf definitely felt like he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. That's why he started to inch ever so quietly toward the front door while he kept his red orbs glued to his owner. The elf didn't know what might happen next so tried to be ready to react to whatever might happen next.

                      It wasn't long before the werewolf started to throw things around: now that was something that was a bit more normal. To think that a grown man trashing his apartment was less worrisome meant that you were hanging out with someone you shouldn't be. Of course Ruven didn't have a choice in the matter. Then again he could always attempt to run away, turn his owner in or countless other things that probably wouldn't work. If they did he would only be in more trouble than before. That's why he stuck around while attempting to deal with Odin's antics as best he could.

                      Ruven made it to the door when the werewolf switched locations. As quietly as he could, the brunette quickly opened the door when Odin started destroying the fan. Hopefully the sound of destruction would cover up any noticeable noise he just made. The elf didn't even bother to close it all the way; but it would look shut if anyone glanced over. As soon as he was in the hallway he pulled out the phone that was given to him and called Ian. Ruven never used the cell when his owner was around because he didn't want to deal with any questions or unpleasant reactions the other might have. He also never called. The elf only texted once in a while and even then it wasn't often. Normally he wanted to meet up with his fellow elf to hone his natural abilities. The fact that he was calling should suggest that something serious was going on.

                      The elf heard the first ring as he started to walk away from the apartment. He probably should have dialed the number as he was walking away just in case Odin came out of the apartment to fetch him for some reason. Hopefully Ian would pick up while the brunette rushed down the stairs--assuming the werewolf didn't get to him first of course.
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                LOCATION: At the apartment with Odin.
                What would you do if your freedom was unjustly striped away from you?
PostPosted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 11:50 am


Alykia
I'm doing baby posts for the phone call. Hope you don't mind.


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                                                  His phone had rung as he was drying his hair. Ian turned off the blow drier and gently placed it on the counter as he reached for his phone.

                                                  "Hello?" Ian asked, it was odd Ruven was calling him since that didn't happen before. The guy seemed rather shy. "Is everything alright?"

Lyrca
Captain


Alykia

Confident Dreamer

25,075 Points
  • Person of Interest 200
  • Conversationalist 100
  • Skill Up 50
PostPosted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 12:31 pm


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                      Ruven breathed out a sigh of relief when the other answered the phone. "Odin is acting stranger than usual. He is having trouble getting words out and started listing off items and their colors. I left because he started destroying things. Something just felt off as soon as I saw him and I'm not sure what I am supposed to do." His words were said with urgency while not being uttered too fast. It wouldn't help to say things in a way that caused unnecessary worry or wasn't audible in the slightest.




Lyrca
That's fine. I was wondering how you replied so fast haha
PostPosted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 12:44 pm


Alykia
Lol. I got good at typing. Up to 6OO words per minute.


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                                                  "Stranger?" Ian asked gently rubbing his neck. When Ian said Odin had begun to destroy things it caused an uneasy feeling in Ian's stomach. He'd seen some of Odin's fits in the past. This wasn't good. "Do you need me to come over? You can stay with me tonight if you need to." Ian was sure if he stopped by to make sure Odin was okay then brought Ruven home with him things would go smoothly. Odin could finish having his hissy fit and Ruven would be out of danger.

Lyrca
Captain


Alykia

Confident Dreamer

25,075 Points
  • Person of Interest 200
  • Conversationalist 100
  • Skill Up 50
PostPosted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 1:04 pm


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                      That was not the response he was looking for; but it wasn't surprising either. Ruven really just wanted an explanation or hint as to what to do. Maybe the mumbling about the colors of things was normal in Ian's eyes. Usually people get upset over something that makes them go into a rage. It just didn't seem to be the same this time. That's why he called; but the way Ian reacted made him feel like calling was a mistake. It was frustrating and got him wondering if he was overthinking the situation.

                      "Yeah," he replied after a little thought while stopping in the middle of the stairway. At that point he was halfway to the ground floor. "That might be a good idea." He accepted the help because it was better than wandering around alone waiting for Odin to calm down--assuming that was all that was needed. He wasn't about to go wait in the apartment though. Right now he felt safer outside and that's where he was headed.



Lyrca
Geez...I mean I've gotten faster at posting; but not THAT fast. Usually I take a while to post because I'm thinking about the next bit or making sure I didn't mess up grammar and s**t cause I'm not the best at that I feel.. haha
PostPosted: Mon Oct 31, 2016 6:40 am


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                                                                                            Ian let out a deep breath as he closed his phone and looked into the mirror. Odin acting strange. He was used to that. Odin had always been strange. Always been off. But now things were different. The werewolf had finally crossed a line using drugs that contributed to thousands of deaths a year. Odin was a felon now. The werewolf was put in the same category as people who did terrible, terrible things. It was difficult to know who Odin was anymore. The werewolf had always gotten into small scraps and fights growing up, but did he now get pleasure in seriously hurting people? Did Odin have the capability of seriously hurting people without feeling remorse?

                                                                                            There were so many damn things Ian just wasn’t sure of anymore. It scared the lycan. When you didn’t talk to someone for nearly ten years how were you to know what their limits had become? Ian was fast to throw on a sweatshirt and rush out the door, telling Acacius to stay behind and go home without him. Ian already knew how the guy felt about his brother. The relationship was complicated. The elf wasn’t so forgiving after seeing how disappointing Odin had become. Ian’s slave had always been rather protective over him though. The type of friend that tried to keep you away from all the bad in the world. Ian wasn’t a child even though a lot of people still saw him as one.

                                                                                            Ian felt lucky that the werewolf’s apartment was so close to that dingy subway station. He got off the train car and glanced at all the graffiti staining the walls. It wasn’t the pretty type of graffiti that added to the atmosphere either. Curse words, gang symbols, and provocative images shoved themselves in your face the moment you stepped off the subway. Ian walked briskly towards the familiar street, the alleys leading him quickly to his brother’s street. He wandered down the uneven pavement and finally came to that off-colored blue door. ”Hey, Ruven. You alright?” Ian asked as he glanced at his watch to see how long it had took him to get there since the call. About twenty minutes. That wasn’t so bad, he was lucky he came from his gym and not his apartment which was all the way across the city.

                                                                                            ”I’ll go check on him alright? You don’t have to come but I’d appreciate the company. I’m sure we can settle this and it doesn’t need to be turned into any big deal or anything along those lines.” Ranting. Was he stalling? Ian meditated an exhale as he began to walk for the door. He opened up the entrance and moved down the hallway until he got to the steps. The lycan trotted up until he arrived at 3C.

                                                                                            Knock knock.

                                                                                            ”Odin! I’ve come for a visit I hope that’s alright. I was close in the neighborhood and stuff.” Ian stated as he turned at the knob to see it was left unlocked. He pushed a couple times until the jammed door flew open and the lycan’s eyes went wide as he saw Odin forming some ******** trash-nest in the middle of his apartment. The only thing all the objects seemed to have in common was their color. Odin was like a dragon forming his own pile of treasure he could sit atop while he waited for knights to try to come by and claim his bounty. ”Er… Odin…” Ian scratched the back of his neck. ”What’s he doing?” The lycan asked glancing towards Ruven for some attempt at getting an answer as to what all this madness was.

                                                                                            Alykia

Lyrca
Captain


Alykia

Confident Dreamer

25,075 Points
  • Person of Interest 200
  • Conversationalist 100
  • Skill Up 50
PostPosted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 7:29 am


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                      Ruven was definitely relieved that his owner appeared to be so focused on his rampage that he didn't seem to notice or care that the elf left. It might have been smarter just to enjoy a night out and come back when Odin was hopefully in a better state of mind. Unfortunately he already called Ian and had to stick around. Still, the more he waited the more he wondered why he didn't just dip out at the beginning and leave Odin alone. It probably would have been a much simpler way to deal with the situation.

                      Twenty minutes later Ian showed up. "I'll be fine. Thanks for coming." He actually meant that; but not in a relieved kind of way. Ian has been quite dependable so far and that was an important trait in the brunette's eyes--for more than one reason. Of course the typical way he babbled on was a bit annoying though. The guy could have just said 'let's go check up on my brother' or something of the sort. Ruven was the slave after all. The lycan should have just made him come, because that is what he really wanted, instead of giving the elf an option. "I'll come." It was all he said in response before they made their way up to the apartment.

                      The way Ian made his presence known was much appreciated. It probably would have been bad, for both of them, if Odin found out that his slave was the one that made his brother come over for a supposed visit. The elf didn't notice how the items had something in common until the door was opened. He probably didn't realize it before because he was attempting to make his quiet escape and focused most of his attention on his owner: not the pile. Now that he could assess the situation in a calmer state Odin definitely seemed to be having some kind of mental breakdown. Of course he wasn't a doctor and couldn't diagnosis anything; but the obsession with the color of items seemed telling. First he was mumbling something about them and now he was making a trash heap of a certain color. The bad thing about it was the fact that his brother didn't appear to have any clue about what was going on or how to handle the situation.

                      In response to the question he merely shrugged before he decided to add in his two cents almost as an afterthought. "Maybe having a mental breakdown...should we contact his doctor?" Ruven was assuming that his owner had a doctor of sorts; but he didn't actually know that. Sure he probably had the standard physician since people with money would; although Odin didn't appear to have much so even that was debatable. That wasn't the type of doctor that would be much help anyway. There had to be someone watching over him to some degree though. It would make sense since he was on parole; although someone wasn't doing a good job at making sure the guy wasn't doing something stupid. At least that was how it appeared to be as far as the elf was concerned.
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                LOCATION: At the apartment with Ian and Odin.
                What would you do if your freedom was unjustly striped away from you?
PostPosted: Wed Nov 02, 2016 7:05 am


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                                                                      __________________________ I DIDN'T ASK FOR MY OWN LIFE, BUT I'LL TAKE IT
                                                                      x ᴏᴅɪɴ ᴄʏᴘʀᴇss

                                                                          When Ian showed up, a warning sign went off in Odin’s head. Alright. Game over. Stop it. Stop acting a fool. Act normal you’ve been found out. He began telling himself, but his body seemed so far away. His hands were too busy rummaging through the cabinet beneath the sink as he was pulling bottles of old cleaning supplies out in order to make room so he could tear the ******** pipes from the wall. No, Odin wasn’t doing any of this. He was just watching his body act on it’s own from so far away. A place where none of his thoughts could reach his muscles as he tried over and over again to make it happen. Stop. Stop. Stop. Say hi. Odin’s brain felt as though it was pulsing, laughing at him, as it ignored the thoughts.

                                                                          Was this his Monster? Instead of hurting people and destroying things it was now running around his apartment with it’s tail between it’s legs as he acted as though he were dying without it. The Monster was dying and playing it’s only pathetic card that it could to try and survive. No, that wasn’t his Monster. This was something different. Odin had another thing deep inside him now, living at the base of his neck where his spine started. This wasn’t him. It wasn’t either of him.

                                                                          Then who?

                                                                          ”Maybe having a mental break down...” Crazy? Ruven just ******** called him crazy. Odin’s fingers wrapped around the pipe beneath the sink and he nearly yanked it from it’s hinges. He had to explain. He needed to explain to the two that he wasn’t some lunatic who couldn’t handle himself. He could. It all made sense they just couldn’t see it. Odin pulled himself up, standing as he opened the fridge door and looked inside. ”No.” He responded. ”There’s silver.” He quickly spoke. ”Silver in here.” The werewolf slammed the fridge and opened up the freezer above it. ”I have to find it.” They had to find it. Ruven was Odin’s slave. He had to listen to what he wanted. ”Find it.” Odin demanded from nobody in particular even though he meant for it to be directed towards Ruven.

                                                                          Odin tore his body away from the two and stormed across his apartment unlocking the door near the end of his bed. He slipped inside slamming it shut and relocked the handle. Odin began to search once again for the tiny silver object. Discomfort quickly made itself clear in the werewolf’s facial expression and his hand rose again to his throat. If he didn’t find the silver he’d die in his sleep. It was here. It had to be here otherwise he wouldn’t feel like this. The swelling in his throat. The physical discomfort. The lack of existence. Odin wasn’t sure where he had gone while he was experiencing this, but he didn’t feel like he was anywhere near his body. He’d withdrawn to a place so far back that he had never left prison to start with. He was still sitting on his uncomfortable bed while he stared at the crack on the ceiling.

                                                                          Alykia

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Lyrca
Captain


Lyrca
Captain

PostPosted: Wed Nov 02, 2016 7:07 am


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                                                                                            Odin had seriously become a stranger to Ian the past ten years. And it scared him. As children Ian knew how to read between the lines with the werewolf. When Odin made certain sounds he knew what they meant. When Odin said things like: You’re okay sometimes he really meant something more along the lines of I love you. Odin used to be rough around the edges but he always had redeeming qualities that made him good. Ian understood that. He knew how to read between the lines. But this? Playing dragon. Making a mess of his place. The second Ruven mentioned a doctor Odin cut in saying he was fine. That he was just trying to tear the place apart to find some silver that had found it’s way into his apartment. Ian’s lips tightened slightly. He didn’t know what that meant. Was there something between the lines here?

                                                                                            ”Um Odin…” Ian muttered. ”There’s no silver here. There never has been. Mom and dad got rid of it when you were born. You’ve never been around Silver before.” He glanced at Ruven as he tried to figure out why there might even be silver in the place. Odin had to be making it up though. If Odin found any silver he could just ask Ruven to get rid of it for him. It’s not like he’d die from a small amount of contact with it anyways. A werewolf’s allergic reaction took a little time before it started to get bad. It was nothing for Odin to act so traumatized about. ”You haven’t bought anything silver for here either. There’s no silver in your home. That stuff is just metal and tin and cheap alternatives or whatever. Silver is really expensive.” Ian paused a moment trying hard not to make it seem awkward. He didn’t want his brother to think he was insulting the guy for being poor. Odin worked shitty jobs that kept him well below the poverty line.

                                                                                            But Odin didn’t seem offended. He didn’t seem to even listen to his younger brother. Instead, the werewolf took off and went into his locked room, quickly closing the door behind him. Ian’s head tilted to the side slightly. Back at their old home Odin was given two rooms. One, his bedroom. The other, his room. On full moons Odin needed to be locked away so he wouldn’t bring harm to anyone. The doctors recommended they don’t drug a child, and so they’d all have to listen to the werewolf going ******** bonkers as it tries desperately to escape. Ian didn’t know much about Odin’s rooms but he knew that his brother was extremely territorial over them. He didn’t allow anyone inside and if he smelled something off when he went in he’d throw a fit threatening everyone he could find.

                                                                                            Ian used to think it was Odin’s happy place. A little room all to himself where he was safe and went when he was upset. As Ian got older, he began to see it more like an addiction or prison for his brother. It was the place Odin went to often after Ian tattled on his brother for murdering a cat. Without being able to take out his angst on living things, Odin became more isolated and harder to speak with. The two never discussed it much. Ian never learned if Odin had just been livid at him or the attitude shift was because Odin no longer had an outlet to take out his pent up aggression. In fact, Ian didn’t know if he was supposed to try and get through to his brother now or not. He smiled at Ruven. ”Sorry. I’ll handle it don’t worry.” He moved towards the forbidden door and gently knocked on it.

                                                                                            ”Odin I’ll help you look for the silver, but you gotta come out.” He promised. ”We’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you. You’re important. It’ll be alright.” Ian knocked again gently a couple more times.

                                                                                            Alykia
PostPosted: Wed Nov 02, 2016 7:47 am


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                      The situation was getting stranger; but at least there was some kind of explanation for the pile of like colors that were on the floor. Ian was probably right though. There shouldn't be any silver in the apartment. There was no way Ruven would have gotten something like that and brought it back. That would have been asking for trouble. He didn't need to deal with more than he had to already. The only bad thing was the fact that Odin was apparently listening to what they said and he basically just called his owner crazy. That could definitely bite him in the a** later.

                      Despite what he thought, Ruven stepped into the apartment when Odin ordered him to find the silver. At least he was assuming that the werewolf was aiming that command at him. The brunette didn't spend a lot of energy on the search because it seemed pointless. He just wanted to make it look like he was doing what he was told. That didn't really matter though. After all, Odin disappeared into the other room not long after he made the demand.

                      The elf stopped whatever he was doing to look over at Ian when he spoke to him. Ruven merely gave him an encouraging smile in response. It was a genuine look because he wanted the issue dealt with sooner rather than later. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to stay out of it as much as possible. Still, if Odin happened to come back out he would busy himself with looking for the piece of silver if that was what was needed. The elf still wasn't sure if they were handling the situation correctly though.
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                LOCATION: At the apartment with Ian and Odin.
                What would you do if your freedom was unjustly striped away from you?

Lyrca
Lame post...but he wouldn't really do anything else.

Alykia

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Lyrca
Captain

PostPosted: Thu Nov 03, 2016 7:38 am


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                                                                      __________________________ I DIDN'T ASK FOR MY OWN LIFE, BUT I'LL TAKE IT
                                                                      x ᴏᴅɪɴ ᴄʏᴘʀᴇss

                                                                          Ian was trying his best to use logic to defuse the situation. There’s no way any silver had found it’s way into the house. No ******** s**t, moron. Odin thought as he glared at the wall. The lycan was right. Odin couldn’t afford anything silver, and if someone wanted to hurt him, there were much cheaper ways to do it than hiding silver around his apartment for him to eventually come in contact with. Besides if someone wanted him to die all they had to do was leave him enough drugs to overdose on anyways. He was sure his nickname would become ironic one day. Odee. O.D. Same s**t. Same person. It was all just Odin. He sometimes spent hours of each day thinking about how he was bound to overdose before he hit forty, if he was unfortunate enough to make it that long.

                                                                          Being spoken to like a child by his younger brother was pathetic. Odin tore himself to his room and once he was shut inside he still couldn’t get any peace. The screams in his head were loud. Just like they had been that day. He tried desperately to scream bloody murder but his throat was all clogged and plugged. The attempted vibrations of his voice left a heavy scream in his skull, but to the outside world, it was nothing more than a quiet muffled Mmh!

                                                                          God knows how loud Julian tried to scream the night he died. It was always violent imagery. Hair grabbing. Face thrown against sharp objects. Small ineffective shanks that didn’t go in and out cleanly. Instead, they tore chunks of his flesh out. Teeth worked on tearing him apart tiny bit by tiny bit. All while being humiliated and laughed at. Casual conversations and joking around happening as he was slowly getting beat to death. It was ******** violent. It was Odin. Odin had done that s**t to Julian too. The werewolf put someone in that position he wasn’t any better than a pack of ghouls. After his lips parted slightly, Odin’s attention was pulled away from his train of thought with Ian and his bullshit attempt at comfort.

                                                                          Did he seriously think Odin was so stupid? That he needed to be spoke down to like some 4-year-old kid? The werewolf felt his lips curl back slightly as he scowled towards the door. If that ******** didn’t shut the ******** up. If he said one more ******** —

                                                                          ”It’ll be alright.”

                                                                          Alright?

                                                                          Ian thought that this was alright? Ian thought any of this ******** s**t was going to be fine and dandy? The two didn’t have a single ******** clue. Ruven didn’t even care. Odin and his slave hardly knew s**t about one another. Ruven was one of the most calm and apathetic people Odin had ever come across. It pissed him off. It made him throw weights at the elf and go way too rough on the guy when he tried to follow Odin to the gym a couple times. Ruven didn’t have to do s**t. Didn’t have to work. Didn’t have to worry about money or food. ********, Odin knew plenty of people who forced their slaves to get shitty retail jobs and took the entire income for themselves. Ruven just sent jolts of anger boiling through his flesh. How ******** stupid did they think he was? Odin knew Ruven tattled on Odin, calling for his brother to randomly show up.

                                                                          And that’s what caused Odin to slam open his door shoving his hands against Ian, sending the boy toppling to the floor. The redhead was out of the way leaving nothing in his way. Odin didn’t want help looking for s**t he knew wasn’t in his apartment. He didn’t want to be told everything was gonna be fine. He didn’t want to be told people thought his useless a** was important in any sense of the word. Odin’s fingers wrapped around Ruven’s collar. With one swift movement he was forcing the elf to the floor and slamming his fist against the the males flesh over and over and over and over again.

                                                                          He was going to ******** beat Ruven to death.

                                                                          Then try telling him everything was fine, Ian. You stupid ********.

                                                                          Alykia

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