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Ian Bohen

I do believe in killing the messenger. Know why? It sends a message.

0 · 1,394 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “Wolves Reign”, as played by Caged Bird

Description

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"You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies; you may trod me in the very dirt but still like dust Iโ€™ll rise."

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      |FULL NAME|
      Ian Bohen
      Formerly Adam
      -The Original Alpha


      |SPECIES|
      Alpha Werewolf One
      and unknown Second
      Generation founding father.


      |SEXUALITY|
      Heterosexual

      |AGE|
      Claims to be 136,
      is actually 795


      |HEIGHT|
      6ft

      |WEIGHT|
      170lbs


      |PHYSICAL APPEARANCE|
      Ian has a strong jawline with hollows in his cheeks, an angular nose that grows wider at the end, and irises that are a myriad of swirling blue hues that give them the appearance of being chaotic beneath the sardonic tilt of his brow. He has crinkles around those eyes of his, fairly thin lips and a cleft in his chin decorated in some usually meticulously groomed facial hair, and hair the color of wet beach sand that when grown out, curls in all types of odd unmanageable angles. This is why he never grows it out. He has broad shoulders, a thick neck, and large hands. "All the better for strangling you with, my dear."



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"We always vilify what we don't understand. The world doesn't exist in black and white, but instead, in shades of grey."

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      |PERSONALITY|


      To those who know him, Ianโ€™s anything and everything. Heโ€™s a Chaotic Neutral, a psychopath, a sociopath, a tragic victim, an Evil Mastermind, an antihero, Tom Riddle Jr. 2.0. It seems like no one can decide what Ian is....and that is they way he likes it. The more you think you know about him, the less you probably actually do.

      The truth? The one lingering personality trait he always exercises is the fact that heโ€™s cerebral in a way that most other wolves reallyโ€ฆ arenโ€™t. Ian is charming and quite pleasant when he is not being a sarcastic little shit. He is the epitome of scheming, cunning, manipulative and sadistic. He will use people and brainwash people in order to get others to do what he wants. He can be genuine, and he does feel, but after growing up a slave, suffering the alienation of being the only of his species, and living as long as he has, he has giving up on emotion in favor of calculated vengeance.

|LIKES||DISLIKES|

      Despite his extremely old age, Ian is what one would call technologically-savvy, though he doesn't prefer an internet connection to an old musty book. He takes enjoyment from more expensive comfort items, superfluous things that remind him he is the most well off wolf amongst the impoverish wolves under him like dress clothes, fine china, furnishings, etc. Unfortunately, living under ground this past century has not yielded many of these things to derive pleasure from.

      He loathes hypocrisy and stupidity in others, constantly quoting Einstein in saying "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe." Most of all, he hates mortal men. "Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. They are a plague and Lycanthropy is the cure."



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"Man is the cruelest animal. They sit down and set their wits to work to devise ways of spoiling other creatures' lives."

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      |FEARS||WEAKNESSES|


      There are ideas that scare anyone: death, public speaking, failure, the loss of a loved one and there are also scary tangible things like spiders, natural disasters, bears, roller coasters โ€“ more concrete and specific stuff, none of which frighten this alpha. His fears lie solely in his objective. When the fire of vengeance burns a hole through his chest, the only fear he can possess is that the fire might be quelled one day before he has achieved his purpose. Ian fears never getting his revenge on mankind, never having the Were-race rise to their rightful place.


      |SKILLS|


      Though physically weaker than the first generation Werewolves were, Ian possesses abilities superior to any descended from himself and can transform into a human, unlike any of the first generation Werewolves. This isn't an advantage that matters today as all modern wolves can transform at will when the hit a certain age, however, Ian is not confined to transforming on full moons like the rest of the wolf race. He also has developed a resistance to silver over the centuries due to greater exposure than his compatriots, similar to how humans can develop a tolerance to arsenic over time.



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"Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him."

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      |HISTORY|

      Prior to Ian's birth, no Werewolves as we know them today existed. Instead, a entirely different race of Werewolves ravenged the world, anthropmorphic wolf mutants that were no more human that their animal ancestor. The humans attempted to harness the power of these feral groups of Wolves with inconsistent success, they were much to rabid and wild to train or contain regularly. However, In the early 13th century, a man by the name of Fabian Novosad managed to successfully mutate the werewolf in the form of Adam. It soon became clear that this Adam posessed the ability to shift between human and Werewolf form, making him the first Werewolf of his kind, and that his bite, unlike the original werewolves, was infectious. Fabian used Ian's infectious blood to their benefit, taking advantage of the child's thirst, pitting it against him as he was forced to feed off humans: the slaves. He did this to create a new race of Immortals, Second generation Werewolves. He hoped this new breed of person could be harnessed, enslaved to guard him, protect him as he traveled to the wilds of America.

      Adam fits into neither the first nor second generation of Werewolves. But given that he is a unique specimen, he doesn't warrant his own generation because he is the only known one to have lived. It wasn't long into adolescene, after having been forced into making many second generation wolves, that he began to question his statis as man's slave. Why should he, a genetic blessing, all of the best traits of both man and werewolf, be a prisoner? Adam plotted a rebellion, setting himself first, then the other werewolf slaves free in a riot. They attacked and killed every man, woman, and child-save a missing Fabian-in the settlement and retreated to the woods.

      They then proceeded, under Adam's command, to hunt and kill every original werewolf they could find. They lost many pack members in the process and the werewolves began to question if they had exchanged their literal chains for proverbial ones. Adam seemed obsessed with destroying every possible weakness he could have, the stronger wild wolves, the men who would hunt him with silver--in fact he took to exposing himself with silver daily to decrease his sensitivity. But they didn't have to concern themselves with him for long because another threat presented itself to them in the form of an angry population of scared human beings that demanded wolf blood. The other settlements feared they'd be wiped out by the wolves next, and began preemptively targeting the second generation. This sparked a war between the races that lasted over a century. Over time, the wolves became so scattered and diluted, so close to the brink of extinction that they moved underground. The technological advances of man made it only easier for the humans to wipe out the race. The history of their kind was lost among them and Adam, now Ian, no longer wielded the power of the race like he used to. He decided to allow this to happen, thinking it better to remove the target from his back that the humans placed there by disappearing into anonymity, feeling much better off being the power behind the throne instead of on it. He is now the Alpha of sector one underground.



โ•”โ•—
Theme Song


FaceClaim || Ian Bohen

โ•šโ•

So begins...

Ian Bohen's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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The atmosphere in Ian's bunker was more refined and civilized that the rest of the tunnel ways. He kept all of his furnishing meticulously clean and then in repair when his surroundings got the better of them. He lounged on one of the divan's in his room now, stretched out the length of the couch, arm draped over his eyes, Bach's Das wohltemperierte Klavier playing softly in the background. He had rid his body of all Elizabeth's blood and redressed, you would of never have known he had devoured a poor human girl mere hours ago if you couldn't smell the coppery scent of her life force still lingering on his breath. "Vitam et sanguinem," he contently mumbled to himself. Life and blood.

Suddenly a persistent banging sounded from the other side of the large metal sliding door to his room, pulling him from his peaceful reverie. He suppressed a growl. It wasn't uncommon for members of his pack to call on him the morning after a full moon, even at this ungodly hour, for many of the untrained younger beasts still managed to injure themselves or someone else when locked in the moon's throes. Still, he didn't like being brought down from his contented after-kill buzz and he especially didn't appreciate the audacity the knocker had to beat on the Alpha's door with such demanding force. "Come in." He languorously called out, not bothering to rise from his comfortable resting place.

The wolf that stumbled in then was a young one, a callow pup even by mortal standards, and looked wild eyed and feral, as most wolves did the day after the first of the moon. But there was more in his gaze than just the norm, eyes casting about for Ian in a panic. Something was seriously wrong. The Alpha regarded him skeptically; like most lycans, this particular one was known to rely more on his animal strength, and sharpened teeth and claws, than on his brain. Ian himself was an exception in that regard, ever always in control of his baser instincts. The wolf lowered his head. If he'd had a tail, he would have tucked it between his legs. "Alpha...I'm not sure how to tell you this but um....Sector two's Alpha...he left the tunnels. He launched an attack on Ordoghaz....only eight made it back of twenty that left. They've only just returned now." ImageHis annoyance at the pup was instantly superseded by a more volcanic fury directed at another. His briny eyes smoldered with stringently controlled rage. Why had no one come and alerted him to this before now? Most likely because they hadn't known where to find him, he had been skulking about in a more secluded portion of the tunnels with Elizabeth until about an hour ago after all. He cursed his lack of forethought, something he had never had a problem with before now. "Thank you for alerting me to this, it would seem I have some unruly mutts to contend with." He replied, his deep voice rumbling like a kettle drum, before he stormed past the cowering wolf and turned toward Sector two.




In the second sector, the rooms little more than rudimentary hovels and barracks, the decaying shelters teemed with predatory life. Flickering lights shone through cracked and sooty stones. Humanoid werewolves went about their business, while other pack members, who preferred their canine form, lounged amid the scattered debris like junkyard dogs, bestial golden eyes glowing from the shadows. Water dripped from the leaky ceiling, the constant tiny splashes echoing off the crumbling, mildewed walls. The fetid air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, both human and lupine, and with grief. Several heads perked up at Ian's entrance, anxious expressions apparent even on the few canine countenances. He never before made an appearance in the sector and the fact he suddenly had now could not be a good sign.

He stalked beyond the huge central chamber into a dark and twisted maze of war-torn passageways, gloomy chambers, barred windows, and shattered porcelain tiles extending through the ruins of the old bunker system like an expressionist lunatic asylum designed and built by the inmates themselves. Some of Daryl's pack had even risen to follow him, to see what he would do though they always managed to trail a safe distance behind him.

At last as he wound his way through the last of these tenebrous corridors, he located Daryl's chambers and his hands clenched into fists at his sides as his teeth spiked in his mouth. Now it was time to employ the more draconian elements of his rule. "Daryl Garreth." He said sharply but not in a raised voice, knowing the other Alpha would hear him even through the door.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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Daryl, now in human form, sat at the large table within his chambers tending to the wound still fresh on his bicep. As a werewolf, most wounds healed quickly except for those tainted with silver or wolfbane. The bullet wound on his arm remained on open gash and he washed it out as best he could before wrapping it up in a cloth bandage. Just as he finished he heard his name being called outside the door, as hissy and smoldering as a firebrand being dropped into water. He knew who it was before he even got up to answer; he could practically feel Ianโ€™s obnoxiously condescending air seeping through the crack underneath the door.
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Not one for formality, Daryl didnโ€™t even bother to get on a shirt to greet the other Alpha and was wearing just a tattered pair of jeans when he came to the door. It was the morning after the full moon anyway and nearly everyone was half-nude. Ian didnโ€™t seem to get the MO on the shirtless convention and was completely dressed of course, looking like his ever sophisticated self even though the full moon had just descended. The only thing amiss was that Ian actually appeared flustered for a change. Daryl couldnโ€™t glean any satisfaction from seeing him bent out of shape though, given how the whole evening had gone.

โ€œIan,โ€ he greeted shortly, stepping out of his room and shutting the door behind him. He didnโ€™t invite the other Alpha in because he didnโ€™t intend on him staying that long. โ€œI donโ€™t believe youโ€™ve ever come to my neck of the woods before.โ€ His patience was hanging by a thread after the hellacious night he and his pack had. The last thing he needed was for Ian to go off on one of his longwinded, patronizing spiels. If he was just here to rub salt in their wounds and try to say โ€œI told you soโ€, he had another thing coming. โ€œI think I have an idea why youโ€™re here, but go ahead and state yer business.โ€ His Southern accent thickened as his mood became progressively hostile.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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โ€œIan, I think I have an idea why youโ€™re here, but go ahead and state yer business.โ€

Ian felt rage swell up in his chest like the waves of a tsuanmi; he didnโ€™t let it show, face carefully composed as always barring the hairline trigger of his lip pulled into a scowl, but he felt it like he felt the pull of the moon as if he weren't a wolf at all but the tide. He was the Alpha of Alpha's, the father of all wolves and Daryl was little more than an insolent pup that had unintelligently defied Ian's express command. He longed to grasp the red-skinned hillbilly and throttle him, wrap his clawed hands around his throat untill the little wretch stopped breathing altogether but he had an audience and being a leader was so much more than physicality though not according to Daryl.

Image"Daryl." he repeated, breathing in his nose and out his mouth in an effort to maintain some sense of tranquility. "I have been informed that you took a hunting party out tonight to Ordoghaz, is that true?" Every spoken word was clipped while every unspoken one was of a much harsher nature.

The other Alpha did not reply but Ian didn't need to possess telepathy to read the guilt and acknowledgemnt there in his hawkish profile. But what irked him all the more was the fact it was not guilt for his defiance but of the pety lives lost, of a poorly made decision and soldiers squandered, not regret for not listening to a stronger wiser leader. A growl rumbled and rolled around in Ian's chest, his skin vibrating. "And it was a complete and utter failure I see...If only someone had warned you against such an act. Oh, wait..." He stated impeturously, sarcasm apparent. "You have endangered all of us, not only what's left of the pack that you practically demolished but my pack as well, all of ours." You selfish little cretin.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth Character Portrait: Melanie Johnsheed

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Daryl heard the words coming out of Ianโ€™s mouth, the righteousness, the condescending nature of them. All he said was true but Daryl overlooked that for the intent that was to pour salt in his wounds. Not only that, Ian was belittling him in front of his pack members, in his territory. He didnโ€™t imagine someone as choosy with his words would be oblivious to where he spoke them. He was too socially savvy. He also must have knew damn well Daryl could not let his sassy remarks slide lest he lose face to his pack who must have already been doubting his authority after a crushing battle.

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He composed himself only long enough to defend himself. โ€œWe got what we went for on the mission: the girl. Not only that we brought back a hostage: An important one, the governorโ€™s daughter. When or if complications arrive, we have leverage.โ€ He retorted, trying to make the situation not sound as abysmal as it was, and that there was some master plan. Truth was he had no grand design though. He was not a schemer or the type to prepare for the worse, because he believed most things would work themselves out. Generally this was considered one of his good qualities, but his off-the-cuff style was ill-suited for the war he had just launched, one that would require strategy.

He stepped forward, going toe to toe with the other Alpha and peered down his hawkish nose at him, trying to intimidate him with his imposing size. โ€œNow if yer dun makinโ€™ smartass remarks git yer hoity-toity ass outta my Sector.โ€ he said with a throaty growl of challenge.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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โ€œWe got what we went for on the mission: the girl. Not only that we brought back a hostage: An important one, the governorโ€™s daughter. When or if complications arrive, we have leverage.โ€ A cruel crooked sneer formed on Ian's lips, dancing on the edge of impressed but still some how remaining irritated.

Daryl stepped closer to Ian then, invading his space, meeting him toe to toe with an audible growl. โ€œNow if yer dun makinโ€™ smartass remarks git yer hoity-toity ass outta my Sector.โ€ The words leaving the other Alpha's mouth weren't offensive in themselves, almost to the contrary, Ian was quite proud of his class, refinement, and more human nature. He would have normally let such a statement bounce off of him, allowing it to make no impression as if he were some sort of a Teflon surface instead of an easily infuriated mutant hybrid wolf-man. But what he could not abide by was the physical threat in Daryl's step forward, the command escaping his lips. This was a challenge. He knew it. Daryl knew it. Every wolf in the audience knew it. There was no letting this slide....but even if he could have, he wasn't sure he wanted to. His inner animal, usually bound in his chest by the heavy iron chains of control was clawing at the surface all the while his pride egging it on, whispering words formed long ago when the world was still ancient about birthrights and power.

Image"Oh my, congratulations!" He mocked grandly. "My apologies, I didn't realize this unknown unnamed pup, your future child bride I assume, was of such importance you'd feel righteous in sacrificing a dozen of our own to fetch her!" He said in an uncharacteristically high and cheery voice, clapping his hands together. "And do forgive me for not leaping for joy at such news, I didn't realize we were the sort of people that took hostages. WHEN said complications arrive, I'll sleep well knowing one miserable human stopped the eradication of my people. After all, if history serves well, that has always worked out in the past....You should bring her out here then, this helpless little hostage of yours, so she can bear witness to the only Alpha here who doesn't act like a COMPLETE AND TOTAL MINDLESS ANIMAL!" He roared, his tone dropping to a dangerously furious one verging on a demonic growl. He rivaled Daryl's position by too taking a step forward until their noses were a breath away from touching. "Command me again, you abominable bawdy licentious mutt. Give me a reason to put you in your rightful place!" He spat before shoving the other wolf backward a few steps, his eyes burning like a blue flame bearing an impossible intensity had ignited behind them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Maia Murdock Character Portrait: Jared Geyer Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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Finally, Daryl saw the mask slipping from Ianโ€™s face as he finished speaking, his malevolent spirit manifesting itself outwardly for the world to see. Daryl had always known it was there like some burning candle in the window of a dark house. His stoic composure melted like wax in white hot fury, a blue flame flickering to life in his eyes as he came nose to nose with Daryl. "Command me again, you abominable bawdy licentious mutt. Give me a reason to put you in your rightful place!" He shoved Daryl in his brawny chest, merely pushing the boulder of a man back one or two steps. It was enough to undo what little civility he had left towards his unwelcome guest however.

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โ€œI got a reason right here fer ya.โ€ Daryl rumbled. In an instant Daryl hooked Ian across the jaw with his massive balled fist, more akin to a wrecking ball than flesh and bone. The punch caused Ian to stumble back, but Daryl didn't give him even a moment to recover, continuing to come at him. โ€œNow cut the fuckinโ€™ shit talk anโ€™ show me yer a real wolf!โ€ he barked with bared fangs that had suddenly replaced his human ones and eyes the color of molten gold. He extended his claws and once again took a swipe at his opponent, this time fingers curved like a rake with the intent to scar Ianโ€™s aristocratic face.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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The sheer fury that was escaping Ian's every pore, now tangible in the air, had pooled entirely to the expression on his face. A truly ferocious growl rattled his bones as it ripped its way from his throat when he caught himself by rolling on the balls of his feet to remain balanced, his jaw popping out of hinge uncomfortably from the force of Daryl's fist before it snapped back in place.

In Ian's opinion, the other Alpha looked like a weasel, fought like a goose, and had the grace of an incredibly stupid ewe. Only a handful of people had been brazen enough to challenge him in his many years and they all paid the price of life for it...well, all except one; his creator. It woudn't do well to murder the foul little cockroach here with so many witnesses though, these were not like the days of old where the slaughter of your opposers was not the only contingency when ascending the ranks. But he craved the coppery taste of the welps blood on his tongue now that he had been struck by him, it brought him to a state of ferality that he had not experienced in quite sometime; the normally rational alpha unable to see reason any longer.

In an instant, he was on him, if Daryl would have of blinked-he'd of missed it. Ian dodged another punch that was thrown as he rapidly approached by ducking to the left quick and fast before his long white fingers, as powerful and as sure as death itself, found and grasped at Daryl's forearms--claws wrapping around tawny broad biceps as he hoisted him into the air and propelled him into the sharp corner jutting out of the wall where the room turned into tunnel. Rock and chunks of concrete rained down over Daryl's mop of chaotic dark hair at the force of the hit. His body had punched a fractured hole into the cement and left him slumped in the floor only momentarily. Had Ian been a cat, he'd of purred with malicious glee, only mildly annoyed by the fact the walls were in fact thick enough to contain their brawl. His teeth were all rows of jagged knife-like spikes and his nails no longer were short and rounded, small fine snow white hairs sprouted along his arms but yet he remained in human form. Ian always appeared human, even to his pack. It was his great guise so that he may lurk in the shadows amoungst them undetected, but in that moment, the edges of his mask were peeling away to reveal his true self.

He was so attuned to other wolves, from being born one and centuries of being one, from spending all of his days since infancy surrounded by the beasts; that when they were around, his body automatically fixed to their scent, sound of their heartbeat, and other familiar noises like low whimpers dying in their chests. The pack anxiously crowded around them now only served to aggitate his inner animal, making him all the more feral, beast brought out by the sense of other's like it. Werewolves could also smell subtle differences in various emotions, and to a born werewolf who'd had his entire extremely long life to memorize the distinct flavors of the olfactory-emotional spectrum, he knew exactly just how nervous the animals around them were and just how enraged his opponet was...but it hardly rivaled his own temper. The full moon wasn't really helping matter either, this was going to get a lot worse before it ended.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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Daryl swiped air where his claws should have met the flesh of Ianโ€™s cheek. It was like he had taken an extra step on a stairwell and fell through, before he was then grabbed by his arms and lifted him off the ground โ€“ This surprised the hulking man since he was not used to anyone being able to hoist his mass up โ€“ and was then thrown against the jutting corner of the curve of the tunnel. The back of Darylโ€™s head struck the wall behind him hard and for a moment he saw spots in his eyes as he crumpled to the ground. The sharp pain prodded his inner wolf exhausted from the nightโ€™s mission back into action. A Hellish growl rose from his chest and the depths of his soul as he stood from his kneeling position again, shaking his raven head from its dizziness. His bare chest and shoulders bubbled and contorted as his bones and muscles reshaped themselves into his beast form. In a matter of seconds he was a werewolf with sleek obsidian fur and upon Ian again who had not the chance to transform before he snatched by the front of his clean pressed shirt and chucked aside like a sack of potatoes.

ImageThe firm taloned grip on Ianโ€™s, oddly, still intact shirt sent him hurdling further down the narrow dark corridor. He stumbled against the sheer weight of the suddenly transformed Alpha, not able to withstand the immensity of his size whilst he was still in his human form. There was a verbal barrage with Daryl's name on it sitting on his tongue like a heavy poison, mentally cussing him like a cur. He pushed the last of his human rationality out of his mind as he wretched his head back and bellowed a howl as the change overtook him. His bones broke and reformed in a painful instant, blazing bright white fur spreading over his skin like a wild fire on the dry plains. In mere moments it was all over. His body had contorted and stretched in the passing of a second and where there once had been a man, there now stood a hulking albino anthropomorphic wolf, panting heavily and moving forward for the kill. He sprang forward from his haunches, launching himself at the other wolf like a tightly wound coil let lose, practically sailing through the air before his wide maw clamped down around the reddened patch of fur on Darylโ€™s forearmโ€”the injury from earlier that night being retorn open with a wrench of his massive head, teeth shredding flesh like meat being pushed through a grinder.

A short wounded shriek escaped Darylโ€™s mouth as the slowly healing gash was ripped open by his opponentโ€™s teeth. It was the sort of dirty tactic he would suspect Ian would use to his advantage. He struggled to shake the other Alpha off his arm, hitting and scraping him down the walls of the corridor, breaking chunks of rock and tiles off โ€“ but Ian persistently held on. The wolves of Darylโ€™s pack followed behind them as they grappled further and further from Darylโ€™s room. They didnโ€™t dare intervene on their Alphaโ€™s behalf, no matter if the fight went South they couldnโ€™t. It would only make their Alpha appear weak if he had to be saved by another wolf.

The fight came out of the corridor into the open space of the common. Ian kept on his hind legs no matter how Daryl twisted and pulled only serving to sink his barb-like teeth further into the juicy muscle of his bicep. Desperate for relief, Daryl took a gnarled hand and dragged his pointed claws across his back like a rake, drawing red lines of blood through Ianโ€™s milk white fur. When this didnโ€™t quite work in getting him to let go of his excruciatingly painful bite, Daryl latched onto the cartilage of one of his ears with his teeth. Ianโ€™s jaws finally relented on his arm, allowing him to tear away and use the open space to fight.

They crashed through rickety makeshift tables pieced together from odd bits of plywood, undiscernibly exchanging blows and bites, destroying the area where the pack had once communed in peace. It was a whirlwind of matted bloodied fur and fangs, shrieking howls and low earth quaking growls ringing through the air like battle cries, a war being waged between a sleek sloping shadow and a fluid spectorโ€”the very definition of ying and yang, polar opposites in soul and appearance and fighting style. This was what happened when a tornado met a volcano, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable objectโ€”inertia. Ian finally let Daryl loose only to very humanly reach up and clamp the obsidian wolfโ€™s mouth closed by wrapping a clawed hand around his snout like a white dog muzzle, the other animal jerking and wildly thrashing about trying to escape his vice like grip. He used his advantage in size to then slam the animalโ€™s head against the stone ground, hearing his skull crunch with a sickening squelch. He did this again and again until Daryl was perilously close to losing consciousness, his body weak and weary, unable to lift itself off of the ground. Ian hummed and vibrated with smug satisfaction when his opposer could then not even hold his beastly form for a second longer, and shrunk and shifted back into a man, naked and trembling like the day he was born, body awash with a sheen layer of sweat and blood. His muscles and ligaments didnโ€™t complain as they too reformed back into their human guise, too amped from the high of battle to care much about the minor injuries he had sustained. He hovered over Daryl then tauntingly, his breathing ragged but mouth smiling. His torn black slacks still clung to his hips, shredded into a pair of fine threadbare shorts, but that was all that remained of his attire and he too glistened with gore and perspiration of a fight well won but he wore it with pride like it were a badge of honor. โ€œIs that all youโ€™ve got then is it?โ€ He derided, toeing Daryl in the stomach with a sharp kick of his foot. โ€œPathetic. Didnโ€™t anyone ever tell you not to start something you couldnโ€™t finish?โ€ This comment was a double edged sword, one side referring to the physical fight itself, the other, the action of war against the Assassinsโ€”a war they were not yet prepared to win in Ianโ€™s mind.

Daryl lifted his hazy eyes towards his now human opponent. How can he transform so fast? It baffled him, downright floored him what he had just experienced. He was just handed an ass-whooping by a man not nearly his size in human form. Yet as a werewolf, somehow Ian was larger. He was not used to being dwarfed by any werewolf โ€“ besides maybe the Alpha of Sector 3, but they were similar in size. Ian was rather unassuming in appearance, slightly above average height, but nothing imposing. He had always assumed that Ianโ€™s power was more in his oratory skills than fighting. And never ever, in his two and half plus centuries of living had he seen an albino wolf. ImageAs his vision focused again, he locked his molten lava eyes with Ianโ€™s glacial ones, wiping off some blood with a back of his hand. He entirely ignored Ianโ€™s previous statement, distracted by his own inward musings which he now voiced, possessing no inner-monologue, โ€œโ€”I donโ€™t think Iโ€™ve ever seen a powderpuff wolf before. Guess I wouldnโ€™t spend much time in my wolf form either if I looked like a big fuckinโ€™ fluffy house cat.โ€ This comment earned him another swift kick in the stomach, causing him to curl over and clench his abdomen with his hand. โ€œYou really donโ€™t know when to shut your mouth do you?โ€ Ian hissed back at him. โ€œI just have a hard time taking a pompous ass who tries to act more human than he does a wolf seriously. You may have kicked my ass but you arenโ€™t more of a wolf than I am.โ€

Ianโ€™s temper flared like an exploding star going supernova, his ever aristocratic features finally bearing for all the world to see the stark grimness of an ancient and malevolent being, cold moonstone eyes dusted in ice lit from within by the gleam of yet unexpressed wrath. โ€œMore wolf? More molf!?โ€ He wailed, voice pealing like thunder. โ€œYou impudent ant! I can cut you to ribbons and yet you still beg for more, think yourself above me! By what right?! You, who is little more than a child playing adult, wearing the skin of a leaderโ€”a shepherd taking his lambs to slaughter! You honestly justify your brash stupidity with you animal nature? I am less than you because I am not as feral?!โ€ Daryl tried to rise to his feet then, recognizing Ian was on the precipice of something dangerous, that he was staring into the black abysmal unknown in the expression on the manโ€™s face. He had never witnessed the ever controlled leader break and now that he was, he was unsure what was about to come of it. Image โ€œSTAY DOWN.โ€ Ian commanded, growling. โ€œYou were made in my very image, you would do well to respect-โ€œ Daryl coughed and sputtered, almost choking on the entitlement of such a statement. โ€œSo what, you think youโ€™re God now?โ€ He asked in disbelief. โ€œI AM YOUR FATHER AND THE FATHER OF ALL THOSE BEFORE YOU! I AM THE ORIGINAL ALPHA!โ€ The pack that had filtered into the room, surrounding the pair of them fell silent. Where they had been quiet before, they now even held their breaths, the very air a pregnant pause.

Looking around the room there was a full spectrum of expressions from the downright dumbfounded to the disbelieving. It took everyone at least five seconds to process what they had just heard in silence, and even after that their voices remained caught in their throats. Sector 2, the notoriously rowdy, big-mouthed pack of them all, was stunned silent. There was not a stir in the crowd until one of Ianโ€™s own pushed his way to the front, Lieutenant Bishop. He appeared calm despite the tension that hung thick in the air. He looked at him steadfastly. โ€œSir..โ€ He shifted his eyes towards the exit, his only concern getting in and getting out with his leader safely, saving the talk of political ramifications later. But one voice made it clear what he thought right then and there. Darting out of hiding from an overturned table and in a flash by his fatherโ€™s side, Cade excitedly stared up at his Alpha, โ€œYouโ€™re Adam?โ€ he gawked, big luminescent blue eyes filled with innocent admiration. Not waiting for more than a second for his answer, for he already knew it, he turned to face everyone else and with uncensored gloating, cheered, โ€œHA! Our Alpha is the Alpha of ALL others!โ€

โ€œCade! What are you doing here?!โ€ Bishop exclaimed startled at the appearance of his unruly son. Now he was not as calm as he was before with his offspring in enemy territory. He then ordered him seriously between gritted teeth,โ€œBe quiet.โ€

Collaborative post between Moonstruck & Mistress of Disguise

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Maia Murdock Character Portrait: Jared Geyer Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth Character Portrait: Melanie Johnsheed

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Ian Bohen

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Ian blanched, actually blanched, once he allowed the boiling blood pounding in his veins too cool so his brain could process what it was his body was actually doing. The words had left his lips and yet they had not been premeditated. There was no familiarity to such an odd sensation. Never again, he vowed. The wretched mutt had pushed him over the edge and far out of his character--infringing upon Daryl's own animalistic nature--so now he was laying with the mongrels like a dog, likely to rise with fleas.

His glacial eyes scanned the malformed crowd, one insidious brow cocked. Not everyone seemed totally displeased, some were even, dare he say, reverent--though more than most in that particular sector seemed to be locked in a state of confusion and stricken with horror. There could be worse things, though, he mused. His sweeping haughty gaze finally came to rest on a smattering of unruly dark hair and a feral excited grin that could only belong to that of a child as Bishop's offspring came bounding forward, not bothering to cow in full view of a rivaling sector, his eagerness apparent with every word he hastily queried. โ€œYouโ€™re Adam?โ€ Ian nodded his head solemnly, as if his replying answer was a grave burden to carry. "That I am." Cade was obviously pleased with the answer and felt it had earned him bragging rights, โ€œHA! Our Alpha is the Alpha of ALL others!โ€ He taunted, lashing out at the other pack with a sorely timed gloat. Bishop was quick to admonish his feckless son but Ian swiftly disabused his fussing. "It's quite alright Bishop."

The Alpha placed a well-meant hand on the kid's shoulder, looking down at him with a feigned crinkled eyed smile that from anyone genuine, would have warmed the soul. "You are a brave one...just like your father. Perhaps...someday even Alpha material." He looked over to Bishop who beamed with pride before his eyes returned to catch his captive audience's as he opened his mouth to address them directly one last time. "We shouldn't fight amongst one another when our enemy is darkening our backdoor. It is true, I have chosen to reveal this to you but not to inspire your fear but just to open your eyes. Show you that our race is truly indomitable and unconquerable. We have suffered a loss but if you listen to me, follow and trust in me...I can lead you to our future. Daryl was right-" He paused, as if the words were just too noxious to speak. "Right in the respect that we can no longer hide in the shadows, but we needed to strike when it was in our favor and we did not..."
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He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to sway the crowd, his speeches were always a thing of beauty because Ian--correction Adam--was filled with this evangelical zeal, convinced that this shattered world, as he perceived it, could never be repaired until all living humans submitted to their race and all wolves alike bowed down to his divine greatness.

"You have spent the entirety of your lives stuck in this labyrinth, thinking of how you'll escape it one day, how amazing freedom will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present. It is time to stop imagining and start acting. To capture that which you have sought for so long. I am Adam, the original wolf; the first Alpha. Father of our race. As long as my heart beats, it beats for my children. Please...stand with me and let us obtain all that which we deserve." He gave them one last sweeping gaze before throwing it over his shoulder at his downed rival and grinning. "Stay smart Daryl." He intoned mockingly before turning heel and stalking out of the hall with Bishop and his son right on his coattails. He knew damage control in his own sector would be an immediate must. They would not take it lightly if they had to hear about their Alpha's exploits from another pack.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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Lauren woke up the next day with not many hours of sleep and bones aching from the change. She ran her hands over her face down to her bare shoulders confirming she was indeed human again. She had managed to before transformation clean her sheets and hang them to dry. She sighed heavily being reminded of last night's events as she turned over seeing the not so white sheets anymore hanging between two chairs. Hopefully the girl made it home okay and the Alpha too... Perhaps she should go see him later. The mere thought unconsciously put a smile on her face. She sat up and stretched contentedly, reaching her hands towards the ceiling and arching her back. She then hopped out of bed to get ready for the day, slipping on a light blue robe and sitting back down with a mirror to put her make up on first.

Life showed no reprieve for her though and just as she was finishing, there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" she called out still focused on the mirror in front of her, finishing applying her lipstick pursing her lips together.

"Lauren! It's me!" a breathless voiced called back.

"Lucas?" she set down her mirror at once, sensing the panic in his voice, but before she could even get up to answer, he had already burst in the door. "Lucas! What's wrong?" She gasped.

Lucas's face was completely drained of color as he came right over to her on the bed. "Lauren... Something has happened... Multiple things."

"What? Tell me." Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, now in a panic herself, not knowing what it was but knowing it was very bad from the difficulty her friend was having in expressing it. Oh no she thought to herself. Had the girl and the Alpha not gotten out of the tunnels undetected? Had the Alpha been caught above ground?

"Jared and Daryl followed through with the attack on Ordoghaz.โ€ he said after catching his breath.

"WHAT?" her pitch was so high it was almost a scream, and fell forward "No! Jared! Is my son okay?"

โ€œYes, Jared made it." Lucas grasped both her arms, keeping her steady. Now he was trying to remain calm for his friend. "But... A lot of people didn't..."

"Oh my god..." Lauren murmured, putting her hand over her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "... I can't believe..."

"That's not the only thing that happened though... Not even the worst."

"What?" What could have possibly made this situation worse?

"Ian went over to Sector 2... He was furious, he annihilated Daryl in a fight... And he revealed that he was, uh, that he was the original werewolf."

Lauren didn't say anything.

"The first Alpha, Lauren. You know... Adam?"

She knew who he was referring to when he had said the original werewolf, but she was in such a state of shock she was unable to utter a single word for a couple minutes. Ian? The first werewolf? The Alpha of all Alphas? It didn't seem possible... He had supposedly died 200 years ago and it didn't seem possible for him to have hidden that long right under their noses. Not only that they had all known Ian for decades, how could no one have known?

She sniffed and with surprising composure spoke, "How do you know it's true?"

"Sector 3's Alpha confirmed it... He's the only one who would know. He's known apparently all along." Lucas gazed at her curiously as she seemed strangely dazed. He shook her slightly making her focus again. "Lauren you need to leave here before things escalate even further than they already have."

"You think I'm in danger?" she asked, "But --- But I can't just leave. This is my home. I've been here forever..." Lauren said, "And I certainly can't leave without talking to the Alpha first."

"What do you need to talk to him for? To get his permission? What if he doesn't let you? Lauren, GO. Protocol be damned! Who knows what he could do to you!"

She shook her head almost defiantly, "I don't believe he would do anything to harm me. He wouldn't. Ian is a good man."

Lucas stared at her stunned, not believing what he was hearing; this seemed too naive even for Lauren. He looked as if he had trapped an alien between his two hands. He leaned forward, speaking slowly and clearly for her, "He's. Not. Ian. This is Adam we're talking about: Medieval dark lord. The werewolf responsible for thousands of innocent deaths. A paranoid, genocidal maniac!"

She nodded, "No, you're right he isn't Ian anymore... But he is still the same man, I'm sure. Even if he goes by a different name, what difference does it make?" she seemed to say this as much to convince herself as Lucas. She stood up and grabbed a dress flung over the foot of her bed. "I suppose there can be no question of allegiance in a situation like this though..." She said distantly. She slipped on the dress and began buttoning it up, turning away from her friend so that she could hide the tears welling up in her eyes again. "You're right, I shouldn't be here. I should be in Sector 2. But I won't go. Not until I see him."

---

Despite Lucasโ€™s urging for her over and over again to just abandon Sector 1, Lauren went to face "Adam" anyway. She had been under his liege for more than three decades after all, sneaking away seemed wrong especially after practically begging to stay. It would be disrespectful to not give the Alpha notice and personally she felt compelled to do it not just out of conventionality but for the mutual bond she felt had been growing between them.

This hurt her the most, feeling a twist in her heart like a knife had been stuck in it. How could she have been so stupid as to fall in love again? It always ended in misery and disappointment; always discovering that the other person was not who they said they were. In that light maybe she should have been grateful. At least she knew before she had committed herself who Ian really was.

Too soon she found herself in front of the big metal doors to the Alpha's quarters, she had thought the walk might be longer. She stood for a pensive moment staring down the rusted barrier, before lifting her hand and knocking on it. When Adam answered, she bowed her head then looked up trying her best to maintain an inexpressive face.

"Alpha... Alpha I.. I --" She had to look down in order to get the words out, "I've come to tell you I'm leaving." There was no mincing of words, but the abruptness only spoke to how painful it was for her to say it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผต๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ ๏ผณ๏ผฉ๏ผฌ๏ผถ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฅ๏ผฉ๏ผฎ
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Adam crossed the room in a measured gait and began pacing; running a hand roughly through unusually wild and messy hair--disheveled from battle. His aristocratic mask seemed to slip away like a silk sheet and underneath it, his expression screamed of sadness. He looked lost somehow, almost betrayed. Something was eating him up inside...or so he wanted her to believe. He had known when she had shown up at his door, she'd be cross--angry even, feel deceived or even outright lied to because she had been. But she was Sector two's Beta's mother therefore a valuable tool to utilize in his seizure of the other packs and a fantastic hostage/bargaining chip. He had to play this just right and what angle to better play than romance? Lauren was notoriously a sucker for the wrong men if her history was anything to go by.

She stepped inside the room as he receded in and shut the door, watching him anxiously as he paced about the room. Adam stopped, faced her, and opened his mouth to speak, but only a small croak managed to escape his throat. He clamped his jaw shut tightly again and resumed his menstruation's as if he meant to wear a rut into the stone floor. It was nearly a full minute before he finally violently shook his head and tried once more, looking every bit as pained as some angsty, love sick, conflicted teenager in a YA novel would be. He made Edward Cullen appear like a downright well adjusted and healthy individual. "Our lives are not our own, Lauren. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future...but I must to take more accountability for my actions than most, as they birthed the future of every werewolf in existence...I am the founder of a race...responsible virtually for any fate that becomes them or any horrors unto others that they commit." He began, pausing as if unsure how to continue. He wasn't going to get this out if he had to face her so he decided to pick up moving about the room again as he spoke, unable to meet her heady gaze...or so he wanted it to seem.

"Contemplate our living forever, or how ever long God wishes our journey to continue. How do you fair? Our eternity is a miracle, wondrous too, but it is not some reward. This world is fragile, and if you can, imagine me as such. Everything passes me by and I am left to endure, alone. Forever perhaps. Imagine that, forever. The only one of my kind. How do your beliefs from five years ago stack up today? What about today's in twenty, forty years from now? How about a hundred? A thousand? Everything passes me by...and only my hope is left to me. The world and I no longer share that. Hope. I have made....so many mistakes." His voice cracked like small brittle bird bones being snapped, his blue eyes squeezing shut like he couldn't bear to let tears form. "I can't pretend that I am proud of my history or the choices I have made but you have...no idea...what it was like...or maybe you do." He sighed before his voice turned wistful and distant sounding but it remained forlorn. "I was drawn to you the moment I met you, you know. We were both forced violently into this life, you and I. Never truly accepted by those around us, never understood. Always on the outside looking in...I-..I was beaten, tortured, experimented on and told I was less than others for being simply made what I am. And everywhere around me, I watched as they used me to condemn others to this life too. The guilt...."

In all actuality, everything he was stating was factual enough, his actual history; and he abhorred having to reveal the wounds he carried around with him to this day from it, but the more rooted in fact the treacherous web of lies he spun for her, the more drawn in and ensnared she'd be. "And when I hoped to break free, others wanted to follow me. I was so young. I had no clue what I was doing and many lost their lives...I was foolish. I fought Daryl today for the same reason...he is too young to understand but that blood will remain on his hands forever just like it coats mine." He looked down at his own hands as if he could see blood stains there. He had killed or been responsible for enough deaths to bath in an ocean of blood, not that he cared much. "Believe it or not, when I had heard they had gone to Ordoghaz, I kept thinking about Jared...what if he had been killed. What it would do to you...I just lost it, lashed out."

He finally stopped his incessant pacing, shoving his hands in his slack pockets, but he did not raise his eyes from his black leather loafers. Adam was rooted in detachment, but he was also a master of faking like that wasn't the case, schooled to be an expert in the art of manipulation. "Lauren...I-I wanted to tell you but I feared what you'd think of me...your opinion...it's the only one I find I truly care about and that scares the living Hell out of me. I don't know what I'd do if you found you couldn't stand the sight of me." Adam lifted his eyes and finally captured her gaze, his breath catching. "I see your smile and my hope and faith...it's renewed. I'm a broken man, and I've seen you, know there are days you feel the same way too...but maybe we are not separate sets of shattered smiles. Maybe we are a puzzle waiting to be pieced back together again." This was a lot to take in he was sure, although they had known each other for decades, they had only been close over the course of the last two to three days but he couldn't waste an opportunity. Lauren was vulnerable and open to suggestion, he had to strike hard and fast.

Adam witnessed a mixture of panic, apprehension, tenderness, and the smallest glimmer of desire on Lauren's face and he closed the gap between them, encroaching on her personal space. "Lauren...is there any conceivable way....could you find it within your heart to forgive me for being too afraid to tell you, forgive me for all I've done?" He breathed. He didn't wait for her to respond to anything he had said, because in time, she'd come to eat her words anyway...but for now, he was sure she'd prefer to eat his. The delectable nectar of his false promises were a reverential pleasure behind her teeth. They would make her drunk on fake love, but what a bitter aftertaste those words would have.

Realization of what was about to happen undoubtedly hit her when Adam's lips brushed against hers, hot breath curling over her sensitive skin. He could feel Lauren's heart pounding against his own ribs, the two of them pressed so close together. It was just a chaste press of lips at first, their mouths barely touching, but it was enough to take her breath away. Then Adam leaned in again, and that time, it was a real kiss--deep and unrelenting, teeth scrapping and lips that would be swollen and flushed when it was over. After he pulled them apart, not wanting to overstep, he brushed a stray tendril of brown hair from her eyes affectionately and sighed in faux amazement. "You are fire: hot flames burning under my skin whenever we touch. You are electricity: sparks shooting up my spine as our eyes meet. You are innocence: eyes glowing like gold in this light. you are everything I'm afraid of. Everything I can't have....Because I feel vulnerable when I'm with you." he finally murmured, like he was admitting it out loud for the first time. "Defenseless. Because it feels like you've ripped me open and slipped inside, Lauren Silverstein."

"Alpha... Of course I'll forgive you, for whatever you do, whatever you have done." She said, and there was immediate relief on his face. She came forward again, cupping the side of his face with her hand. "Whoever you were I do not care about. I care about is who you are now."

She rested her forehead against his, smiling but with tears forming in her eyes. "You say such beautiful things, I cannot believe they are about me. I do not deserve such praise." She was unable to hold back her tears at this point and they made salty trails down her cheeks, her body shaking with contained sobs. Despite all her past experiences here she was falling in love again. In the past she could have blamed such foolishness on her youth, now she had no one to blame but herself.

"I'm sorry..." she took a deep breath and wiped her tears away with the back of one of her hands, embarrassed. "It's just... Everything you say, it's just so utterly perfect. I should be happy to hear all these things but to be honest, I'm overwhelmed... Scared, really." She nuzzled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her hold desparate; her voice quaking with vulnerability, "Please let everything you say be true. Love me and say you always will."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Coren Somerhalder Character Portrait: Rose Wilson Character Portrait: Melanie Johnsheed

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Coren blearily awoke to the familiar sound of dripping water, the drops echoing and bouncing off the cavernous walls like some natural metronome. The room, or more aptly put, cell was simply a hole carved in their bulwarks taped off by iron bars--long jagged claw marks scarring stone walls that were missing entire chunks of bricks and mortar. He moved to sit up, groaning at the jack hammer pounding against the insides of his skull as if his brain were under construction. Lactic acid had built up painfully in his muscles over night and when he tried to stand, he tottered upon unsteady legs that felt like over cooked spaghetti noodles. The ground seemed to tilt vertiginously beneath his feet, sending him crashing back down into a sitting position, back posted up against the wall, long legs unceremoniously stretched out before him.

ImageCoren sighed, would he never get better at this? Of all the things he was not very good at, being a werewolf was perhaps the most outstanding. He let his head smack against the stone behind him in despondence, grateful last night that Lauren had left him before his change gone underway. His wolf was not a pleasant thing to see up close. It was rabid, untamed, and dangerous; a frightened wild thing that lashed out at everything in direct proximity to it like some caged animal. Hence why he barred himself up on nights of the full moon like some prisoner to her pale faced whims. Other wolves could manage to remain by each others side, calm and tranquil in pack presence, but not Coren. He had zero control over his inner beast, his four years of experience doing nothing to dampen his beast's ferality.

He let his eyes trail lazily over his exposed, filthy, and sweat coated body, swallowing at the sight of it. How right that his body was a gallery of scars, a canvas of experience, a testament to life and his capacity to endure it. A map of injuries left from his human and wolf life told the story of a boy who by all rights was fated to only ever know pain. Could he remember what it was like to not have violence stamped in his mind every second of every day? Did he remember what it meant to be whole? Of course not. That was much too long ago...He had grown up yearning to become more familiar with how bodies without black eyes and bruises worked. It was simply natural, simply instinct, to want to be somebody else, because he didn't like who he was when he was home. He'd been an unwanted, tremulous child whose jaw would click when he yawned and whose frame seemed to fit naturally in a corner as he cowered away from whatever sought to hurt him. He had thought being a werewolf would have changed things, he was strong and capable of defending himself now, but it seemed rational understanding did little to appease frantic instinct learned over the years. The only thing that had changed now was that he was capable of seriously hurting those around him in a way even his father had never been.

Coren was quickly pulled from his disconsolate musings by the sound of steady footfalls approaching, an unwavering tapping to accompany the chorus of dripping water. It was completely pitch black in this part of the tunnels, usually being devoid of life not accounting for himself. The dark brought him comfort, as if he could hide his shortcomings from the rest of the pack wrapped in this obsidian security blanket so it made for the perfect place to hole up during the rise of the moon, but now he could point a pinprick of light in the distance, flickering as it found it's way to his hiding place.

The shadows dancing across his vision didn't dissipate under the wavering beam of a weak flash light that had long since yellowed with age, it was more like the shadows simply peeled away; layer from oily layer as he blinked, his pupils adjusting to the intrusion. His unfocused gaze was met by a woman with crimson hair too vibrant to be natural and a face luridly illuminated by the dim sole source of light in the black, where only the expression of anxious irritation was stamped. A smile twitched the corner of Coren's mouth on a good will mission, but he only received a weak approximation in return. He braced himself for the cocktail of unhappy emotions that would probably, undoubtedly, chase the answer to the inquisition he was about to make. "What's the matter? What's happened?" He questioned, voice dropping all hints of pretense, growing more staid by the second. When Rose locked eyes with the Omega, her gaze did not seem to stop at his face but peeled back the skin and muscle and bone to the frantic starving brain beneath. "Did you know?" She asked, anger lacing every word she spat down at him. "Did you know Ian-Adam was the original Alpha?" Coren blanched. What? The inside of his stomach suddenly felt like it were coated with lead, sinking down to the floor. "How dare you keep that from me, I know you're his little pet project but I have known him for a few hundred years. You've known him for four." She scowled. "Well just so you're aware, the secrets out. He made an announcement to sector two after serving Daryl with a beat down then briefed the rest of us this morning. You're not the only special little one who is privy to that knowledge anymore. Anything else you want to share with me before it gets brought to light too?" She asked venomously. She was a petty, vain creature who preened and prided herself on her own imagined importance. Coren never could fathom why Ian had made her Beta.

ImageA feeling of betrayal roiled within him. Ian had never told him anything...not that he'd let this bitch know that. He held his head high โ€“ his expression fixedly neutral and blatantly false. "Just that nobody actually suspects your dye job is real, it's the talk of the pack actually. We were all wondering when it was you were going to give up on trying to fool everyone in thinking that you're a natural redhead...Ian doesn't like redheads anyway. He goes for the brunettes." He stopped himself from going any further, She could whip his ass five ways to Sunday if she felt so inclined and her infatuation with the alpha was a sore subject to touch on. Rose sneered, lip curling back to reveal sharpened canines. "You are such a brat, you know that? Why he drags your pathetic ass around, I may never know." Funny, he was just thinking the same thing, but about himself or her, he couldn't be sure. She disappeared back from where she came, the clack of her absurd heels fading into quiet, taking the light with it.

Coren was suddenly filled with too many angry words about his alpha that were sharper than any dagger, but he'd let them tear him apart from the inside, before heโ€™d let them go anywhere near Ian. Over the span of his short life, he had become aware that such cries ended up dead and useless, scraping his throat raw for no good reason at all. So he had learnt to endure them along with the scars too. Pain was never meant to be beautiful or poetic. It was feeling like you were in mid breakdown and laughing like you were fine. There were depths of hurt which could not, which should never be articulated, brought out into the harsh light of day where they could not scab over and be forgotten. This was one of those pains.

He eventually hauled himself off of the floor and dressed after his legs had regained feeling and he had splashed some water over his face and body, taking what he liked to call a whores bath. After that, he wandered aimlessly to the dinning hall for breakfast though he had no appetite to speak of upon hearing the news. He wouldn't seek Ian out. He couldn't. His eyes listlessly scanned the people hunched over their plates, picking at food remnants and whispering in hushed tones. There was not a friendly face among them. Where was Melanie when you needed her?

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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Adam had never heard (or read) a definition of love that didnโ€™t bore him to tears.

It was all tedious clichรฉs and contradictory absolutes. However inspired the phrasing, I love you simply did not mean anything to him. The words were but a blinking bright neon sign that read; I AM PLIANT AND CONTROLLABLE. I AM AT YOUR MERCY NOW TO UTILIZE. Two thousand years and forty generations of self proclaimed geniuses, and not one of them had come up with a description that made sense to him. Not Chaucer: the life so brief, the art so long in the learning, not Shakespeare: bears out even to the edge of doom, not Byron: a spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, and not Nicholas fucking Sparks: more than there are stars in the sky and fish in the sea. (Do not ask how bored he had to have been to read any of that garbage with the hope of some insight into how to feign sincerely feeling one way about another.)

His heart was but a husk, all carbonized and black.

There was this disease that coal miners had contracted in the first world. It was affectionately dubbed black lung back in those days. They went down into those unlit shafts of damp and shadow, and the coal dust and the black mold got into their lungs and coated them in filth. And then their lungs started dying before their bodies did, turning gray and hard. They rotted from the inside out.

Thatโ€™s what this pitiable woman loving him would be like. She had fallen down into that black carbon heart and the rot would soon root inside her.

He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing lightly the underside of her jaw, then inhaled slowly as if he cherished their closeness. "From this day until the end of days. I swear it." It was quite a declaration, but then again so had her statement been. He pulled back to stare into her eyes for a breif moment then recaptured her mouth, hungrily and with abandon. She was his for the taking now and he intended to do just that. He would seal the deal as they said and ensure she was lost to reason, that's what passion was--an acceptable form of madness. His fingers came to rest on her nimble hips before they slid lower to capture bundles of fabric, rucking up her dress around her waist. He thought he heard her make a soft noise in the back of her throat like that of a sigh or a light moan and he accepted that as a queue to continue further. With the dress up out of the way, his hands found her thighs and he lifted her up so she could wrap them around his waist, his fingertips sliding on her skin, leaving hot trails where they skated. He carried her this way, with their hips lined up and bodies pressed together to the bed which lied just behind an artful triptych, both unwilling to break away from kissing each other long enough to break the spell cast over Lauren. It was done. She was his as soon as the clothing fell away and the night was spent solely focused on one another.

They would both awake the next morning ignorant to the fact that with that one act, their world had been changed forever as they knew it...and not for the better.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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๏ผก ๏ผฃ๏ผฏ๏ผฌ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผถ๏ผฅ ๏ผฐ๏ผฏ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฎ๏ผง

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๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผต๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ ๏ผณ๏ผฉ๏ผฌ๏ผถ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฅ๏ผฉ๏ผฎ
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Lauren awoke, not realizing she had fallen asleep at all, her head resting on Adam's chest. He was steadily breathing, leading her to believe he too must have fallen asleep. She nuzzled her face into his chest, a smile playing at her lips. She didn't want to get up; she didn't want to face reality just yet and all the trials and tribulation ahead. For a few more minutes, she just wanted to be happy and revel in the feeling of new found love. After a while with some reluctance she got up as quietly as possible, placing her feet on the stone cold ground and following the trail of scattered clothing that she picked up along the way back to the other side of the triptych.

Adam had lied awake hours before Lauren's big doey eyes ever fluttered open. He would never allow himself to be vulnerable by being in a state of unconsciousness and unaware of the persons actions beside him. He kept his breathing steady and even, eyelids heavy and relaxed whilst his brain whirled and clicked like a great machine. He had a long day ahead of him and a war to plan for, but this he could not find the sense to regret. Of course, if he had meticulously planned his great announcement and the beginning of the end of life as they knew it, it would have been more elegant and full of false securities, but out was out and he could not wait to get out--to escape their home, or as he viewed it, their tomb. He'd be damned if he mourned his secret identity when it had rested like chains shackled around his voice, manacles to his power of persuasion. Adam was buried underground like a well kept secret, but soon the world would know just what they had thought was safely six feet under and well of out reach.

This Alpha had always been duplicitous. All of the packs knew his nature, and yet they didn't. They fooled themselves with his words rather than trusting their gut baser animal instincts. They called him โ€œsilver tongueโ€ but it wasnโ€™t a compliment. Dissembler, they meant. He could charm the babe from a motherโ€™s arms and the sweetness from a loverโ€™s touch. He could twist reason until it sounded like madness and he could steal your own words before you knew to guard them. Such was his gift. And he was confident in that gift as he felt Lauren move against his chest, felt the smile that hung from her lips as she pressed her mouth into his chest with a light nuzzle. He silently and patiently waited as she snuck from the sheets, to observe her actions covertly as possible.

Lauren was putting her clothing back on on the other side of the triptych, but paused having spotted something of interest; a leather bound book with loose pages coming out of it sat open on the coffee table. It appeared very old with elaborate calligraphy writing like an old manuscript. It looked like it was from the Middle Ages and it probably was knowing what she knew now. She clasped her bra together in back then slowly lowered herself onto the love seat and began leafing through the brittle yellow pages curiously. Some pages like the first were neatly written, other notes appeared barely legible and more like scribbles - either way she could not read them because it was in a different language. There were illustrations as well, many plants, pictures of animals, crudely drawn and one dimensional. She paused upon one illustration, a drawing of a white wolf, standing over a disemboweled man, baying at the moon. It sent a chill down her spine. What sort of book was this?

This told Adam all he needed to know, catching her scanning over some of his loose scrolls as she dressed herself. Curiosity killed the cat, but what did it do to the wolf? He would have to stay on top of her sense of inquisitiveness if he hoped to be successful in this venture. "Good morning."

Lauren almost jumped out of her skin, quickly turning back to the original page that she had held with her finger. Her heart was still pounding when she finally turned to face Adam. How could someone with such presence have the ability to sneak up like that? "Alpha, I didn't hear you... I was just getting dressed." She swallowed and grabbed her dress off the arm rest beside her hastily. She stood up as she began buttoning up the front. She smiled at him weakly and looked down embarrassed. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to wake you."

"Nonsense. It was half past time I got up anyhow...an Alpha's work can never be put to rest. I'm sure there are things which need my attentions." he intoned with a voice almost too soft to belong to a once warlord. Still, even then, there was some danger in the light of his eyes. They were as blue as the worlds oceans, but flecked with pale gray. Like ice. And his feigned smile and soft tone never could thaw them. He pulled her flush against him and tilted her chin up with a gentle hand to catch her darting eyes. He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and watched it bloom on her face in the form of a smile.

His eyes wandered unwillingly from the adoration on her face back to the page she had been examining only moments before. "It's poetry, in case you were wondering. Hungarian poetry." He said, gesturing to the paper yellowed with age. "It's a coarse language but it produces some beautiful poets. Don't judge me too harshly, I tend to be a bit of a ridiculous romantic at heart." Those scrolls were in fact, NOT poetry, but instead battle records from a bygone age taken by a man named Fabian Novosad. They were the first ever records of ancient werewolves in action and told of experimentation to come. They predated Adam, foretold of his existence. He could almost see the hollow empty eyes of his creator behind the hastily scrawled text. Poetry, indeed.

It was strange, Lauren hadn't thought about what his native language was, but of course it wasn't English. There was so much she didn't know about him, even less so now that he was Adam. She doubted what she was looking at was poetry and if so Hungarians had a strange, off taste in literature. But she decided to let it go, it had been none of her business to go through his personal things anyway. "I should go see Jared now." she said switching subjects.

"You should go to him, I hadn't a chance to speak with him before you came along. I'd like to know how he is holding up after everything. He is not at fault for being under reckless persuasion. Daryl..." He sighed, biting off his words. "If anything would have happened to Jared under his stubborn lead..." He shook his head as if to dismiss the thought.

"I don't know what I should say to him... for comfort or advice." Lauren frowned, "I don't think I should say anything about us. Not now anyways... He won't understand and he has so much to think about already." She sat back down sighing heavily, the weight of reality coming back to her. Now she would have to navigate a new relationship and a whole new world. Werewolves were on the precipice of a revolution whether they liked it or not, ready or not, and undoubtedly her mate would be at the forefront. She rested her head in her hand. "What if this is a mistake? I'm an omega, a... a..." she hated even saying the demeaning word, especially in front of him, "A mutt. It was fine when Jared became Beta, but this...? " She looked genuinely panic-stricken and pitiful, as she looked back up at him, "I am no Alpha female. You should have someone stronger by your side."

"Lauren." He barked suddenly, as if offended by her statement, causing her to jump out of her skin a second time. "Do you find doubt my judgement? Think me incapable of putting the well being of my people before my own selfish needs or desires?" His voice had grown kinder and more soft as he carried on, almost sotto voce. "Part of my loving you is because you are someone who has the inner strength yet understanding qualities that an alpha female needs." He praised, as if proud of himself for recognizing that in her before anyone else had. "Just you wait, my dear. Everyone will see what I see...my love, a wolf worthy of the title mate." It was a backhanded compliment meant to prick her subconscious. Her importance revolved around her connection to him, she was strong...but only in so far as he made her to be. It would give her the boost she needed, but keep her head from getting too big for his liking.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Rose Wilson Character Portrait: Jared Geyer Character Portrait: Daryl Garreth

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โ€œI really should go now. Itโ€™s a ways there and back.โ€ She finally removed herself from Adamโ€™s hold and walked towards the door, pausing as she opened it, โ€œI will see you when I come back.โ€ She promised before exiting. As she walked from the his quarters she hummed a nostalgic tune to herself. Until the sound of another pair of heels came clacking up the hall towards her.

Her song caught in her throat as Rose came around the bend of the corridor and both automatically froze in their path. โ€œGood morning,โ€ Lauren greeted bowing head. She smoothed down her frizzy hair and closed her collar a little more to make sure no marks were showing. It was useless though, as there was very little that escaped the attention of the older female. She could tell from her disheveled looks and her flushed cheeks just what the little omega had been up to.

Rose smiled at Lauren, but it was a scary, manic looking thing. โ€œGood morning Silverstein.โ€ she replied voice dripping with saccharin. Her head raised as if she had caught the scent of prey, โ€œI'm surprised to see you still here in Sector 1."

"Why is that surprising?"

โ€œWell given what transpired in Sector 2, don't you think it might be, I don't know... safer for you to be over there?"

The words were of concern but her tone was sinister; a poorly disguised threat.

โ€œI do not see how." Lauren lifted her head at this point, looking at the Beta directly, "Who would harm me? Why? I've done nothing."

"Really? It certainly doesn't look as if you've been doing nothing. It seems you've been quite busy." Rose's strongly contoured face cast a look of pure disdain at her. She stepped forbiddingly towards her, head lowered with a predator's look in her eyes until she was mere inches from her. "Listen to me, don't let one little fling with the Alpha get to that cute little head of yours and think you're somebody. You're still a nobody. Always have been. Always will be." Rose sneered, so close Lauren felt the tiniest drop of spit hit her face before she backed off. "Charm can only get you so far sweetheart, and it certainly won't protect you. Not for long..."

Lauren did not reply and was apparently not expected to as Rose then abruptly continued with a more heated stride towards Adamโ€™s quarters. She cast a scornful look over her shoulder and wiped the spittle off her face as the Beta strode away. She had to take a deep calming breath to push away the malicious thoughts entering her mind. She could not worry about what the likes of Rose thought anymore. All that mattered was what the Alpha thought and he had deemed her worthy enough to be his Alpha female... Soon anyways. She would have to learn to walk with her head held high and be confident enough so that others would not view her as she was once was as an omega. With that thought in mind she suddenly became more conscience of her posture and straightened up, rolling back her shoulders and lifting her chin a little. She had to be strong. For her pack. For Adam. For herself.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Rose Wilson

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Ian Bohen

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ImageAdam was almost completely dressed by the time the crimson haired irritant came rapping on his door but his place remained in disarray, and by disarray I mean the bed was still unmade with Lauren's scent lingering in the sheets. He heaved open the door but hovered in the entryway, blocking Rose's path to keep her from waltzing in uninvited as she oft felt comfortable enough doing. He realized it was a probable indication that it was time to nip that notion in the bud, there was a chain of command here...and the best way to enforce that idea to Adam might be to go fetch a literal chain he could beat her with until she understood just who was in command. "Rose, what can I do for you today? I was just on my way out." He said kindly, not wanting to seem like he had any reason for not inviting her in. She blinked in confusion, her glassy eyes, darkened by his looming shadow, questioning. "I-I have news from above ground. It's fairly dire, I thought you ought to know." He smiled serpitilliously down at her. "I ought to know everything, now speak up. What's happened?"

ImageRose dipped her head low with a sudden bought of sense and kept her gaze trained on the ground, hoping not to encourage any upset with the messenger for simply delivering the message. "It's the city...they've shut it down completely. No one is going in or out. They've issued a nation wide alert broadcasting that werewolves are loose in the L.A." She hesitated for only a moment with bated breath before she dared to lift her head again. She was met with Adam glaring through eyes which people had compared to the ocean during a storm, but were more like the blue of the complete abyss. Something you wouldnโ€™t even have known you were drowning in until you were already dead, it sucked the very air from her lungs. "Are you positive, irrefutably so?" He asked, not seeming all too concerned with the answer he already knew. Rose paused for a moment that seemed to span a life time before responding in a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sure." Adam nodded once and reached over to a low hanging hook on the wall, snagging a coat to pull on before he pushed passed her and closed the door behind him. "Go and gather the pack, if it is a war these self proclaimed warriors want, it is a war they shall get." His jaw clenched so tightly, his teeth would've cut through solid steel. "When we actually let loose on the city, they will know what Hell is."

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Rose Wilson

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Rose stopped with a haughty twirl of her long skirt amidst the hoard of wolves, looking at all of them with her eyes cast down with superiority. โ€œI have gathered you all here regarding a very important matter that the Alpha will address with you shortly.โ€ Rose announced with gravitas. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Lauren and she was about ready to leave before Roseโ€™s eyes caught her. โ€œSilverstein.โ€ Rose voiced her name like a teacher singling out a student in a classroom. She clacked slowly over to Lauren with vicious amusement on her face.

"What on Earth are you wearing?" Feeling everyoneโ€™s eyes focused on her, Lauren wrapped her arms over her chest self-consciously. โ€œThis isnโ€™t my clothing... I was just about to go change...โ€ Lauren responded in a small voice not quite able to keep the irritation out of it. โ€œOh no no no, I think it suits you quite well. Definitely better than all those stuffy old things you've been wearing."

Satisfyingly no one laughed with Rose. It was obvious she was baiting her into an unfair fight. Most faces in the crowd looked concerned. โ€œWhy don't you wait until after the Alpha is done making his announcement. He should be here shortly."

"I think there is some time, I'll go change..."

"That was not a request! Stay!"

Lauren stopped in her tracks, seeming to contemplate for a moment whether or not to obey then continued forward, but before she knew it she was jerked backwards by the wrist and flung to the ground. She caught herself from falling completely onto her back by the heels of her palms, the gravel lodging into her skin and stinging.

โ€œI said stay! Submit or I will punish you for insubordination." Rose threatened, her envy green eye lighting up.

Lauren got to her feet, brushing herself off and glowered back at Rose. "Get. Out. Of. My. Way." she bit off each word, flashing her eyes boldly back. She attempted to shove by, but was caught again by her wrist. This time Rose violently twisted her arm behind her back, dropping her to her knees and digging her pointed heel between her shoulder blades.

"You think you're really something now don't you? You want to be treated more than just a pathetic, little mutt; To be taken seriously? Then you'll have to do more than talk tough and dress like a little slut." Rose hissed, pulling her arm even tighter like a dish rag until her bones creaked from the stress.

"Why shouldn't I be taken seriously?" Lauren countered through gritted teeth, getting her words out despite wanting to cry out in pain, "People somehow take you seriously... with that terrible dye job..."

There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd and Rose grew even more furious. "SHUT UP!" She let go of her arm and kicked Lauren down flat on her chest. Immediately the laughter stopped and there were gasps of horror. The Beta circled around Lauren and kicked her in the side. Lauren cried out and wrapped her arms around herself, but was then kicked in the head. A rivulet of blood streamed down the front of her face, down the bridge of her nose. She curled up as Rose continued without relent to kick her. There was an eruption of voices and chaos, some crying for the Beta to stop but not intervening. Then all of a sudden the whole room went silent and she was not being kicked anymore. Lauren slowly uncurled herself, the pain almost too great for her to move. She got on her hands and knees, spitting some blood onto the ground before looking up and seeing that Adam had entered the room.

Rose strutted in front of Lauren, her ruby lips pulled into a smug smirk. โ€œNow, was that a sufficient enough beating for you to understand your place?โ€ Lauren's mouth hung open but a reply never came. She looked at Rose, looked at Adam again, then down at the ground. Rose gave a feaux frown pulling her lips down dramatically like a clown and placed her hands on her knees. "Oh sweetheart, don't look so disappointed, did you really think you could beat me? That's adorable." She laughed and straightened back up turning away from her and monologue-ing to the crowd, "When you dream you dream big don't you? But what did I tell you? Once an omega, always an omega... Don't take it hard dear we all have to learn our place sometime..."

While she was turned away Lauren reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her legs out from under her and climbing on top. As a turned wolf Lauren wasn't nearly as strong as Rose but with her full weight on top of her she managed to keep her down just long enough to get a few good punches in. She heard a bone crack and stopped, panting. Rose grabbed her face and rolled onto her side, screaming. "You BITCH! You fucking whore! I'll--"

Lauren got to her feet and quickly cut her off.

"DO NOT utter another word!" Lauren silenced Rose with a surprising amount of authority in her voice, "Let me be clear, I will never EVER obey you again and no one else here will have to either..." There were murmurs in the crowd confused now as to what was going on. She sniffed and wiped some blood from her nose then continued, "My pack will not be subject to someone so petty and you will resign from your post as Beta. You will be allowed to stay in the pack only because you did not know who you were attacking, and such ignorance is not your fault..."

Lauren looked over to Adam, looking for his approval. He nodded. She looked around the room at all the faces staring back at her, bewildered. Suddenly she was feeling nervous again. She resisted the urge to look down as she normally would, and instead assented her chin upward in a regal manner. "... I am your new Alpha female..." she finished.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Coren Somerhalder Character Portrait: Rose Wilson

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The 'wicked witch of the west' marched straight over to poor 'Dorothy' to make a mockery of her, and Coren, like the little black dog he was, tucked his proverbial tail and slunk back to the corner. Now he hated Rose with a fiery passion, and if he were really Toto, he'd of jumped straight up and bit that witches hand the moment it reached out and wrenched poor Lauren's arm, but this is how things were in 'Oz.' There was a pecking order, a pack rank and Coren was at the dead bottom of it. Of course, you could climb rungs by shows of strength, but Coren was weak...and knew who'd come out on top if he stepped in. He would do more harm than good by dragging out Rose's little show of power. For the first time, he wished he lived anywhere but underground, somewhere where this wasn't the norm. Perhaps 'Kansas' hadn't been so awful all along...

He let out a sigh of relief when Adam entered the room, Rose stopping her brutal assault and monologued, putting on a show for the man she worshiped. It was down right pathetic really, as he could care less about his beta. His face remained set in stone, revealing no indication of how he felt to come in and witness the woman he had affections for being harmed in such a way. He must have been very practiced in his control...or simply uncaring.

It was then Lauren surprised everyone by seeing the opportunity and seizing it the moment Rose's back was turned. She threw down the gauntlet and opened a can of whoop ass on her superior with a pent up rage and concealed aggression Coren hadn't know she harbored. "DO NOT utter another word! Let me be clear, I will never EVER obey you again and no one else here will have to either." She growled with authority. "My pack will not be subject to someone so petty and you will resign from your post as Beta. You will be allowed to stay in the pack only because you did not know who you were attacking, and such ignorance is not your fault..."

Coren's mouth hung open in shock, head whipping in Adam's direction. The Alpha took stock of the crowd reaction and upon noting it was in favor of his champion female, he smiled and nodded in approval to his mate to continue. "... I am your new Alpha female..."

"Rose..." Adam chided. "You really ought not provoke your leaders leading lady like that." He grinned and winked at Lauren then strode happily out toward the center of the room to address his adoring pack. They all looked as if they wanted to whoop for joy, shocked at the news just delivered to them but joyous all the same, but they knew they had to contain themselves for the moment.

It was no secret the pack favored Lauren and while subservient to Rose, they hadn't taken a shine to her little arrogant and sometimes demeaning dominance games. Just to know someone like Lauren would stand by Adam's side spoke leagues about his true character, she would make a wonderful second in command. They knew with her kind heart, she'd never let them be abused. Their shadow doubt in their Alpha was demolished in one bright flash of light, save Coren's, who though while he could imagine nothing he'd love more than for Lauren to become his adoptive den mother, a coil of distrust in his surrogate father still writhed and twisted around in his stomach. What was wrong with him? Couldn't he just be happy for once? must he always be such a miserable little whelp? Adam motioned for Lauren to come stand by him while he delivered his address, and Lauren complied, stepping over her previous superior without a glance back. Coren thought of rubbing this news in Jared face, they were practically related now whether he liked it or not, and he let go of the dark tide of feelings that accompanied Adam's presence for a moment to bask in the sight of Lauren marching over to stand at her mates side as Rose was the one slinking away like a cur kicked one too many times. It was a glorious sight.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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In the weeks to come life changed drastically in the underground. The locked down on the city had all but halted trips to the surface. It was near impossible to meet with a fencer without great risk to oneโ€™s life and compromising the location of the pack, so trips were made sparingly. They were forced to ration food and dig into their reserves, but after a month those resources were starting to dwindle.

The previous order of leadership had also been upheaved by Adamโ€™s resurrection from the dead. Sectors three and four quickly aligned themselves to the now reigning Sector one with no fight, while Sector two still stubbornly refused to trust Adam. It did not help that Jaredโ€™s mother was now mated to his former Alpha which only deepened the mistrust. Save for Lauren, no leaders from any other pack paid any visits to Darylโ€™s sector. And as much as Lauren pleaded with Daryl and Jared to set aside the past and trust Adam, they refused.

Lauren had abandoned her own living quarters and moved in permanently with her mate. It was a strange sensation to share space with another person after being alone for so long, but Lauren loved it. She only hoped Adam didnโ€™t mind as he was such a solitary creature. Lauren kept busy most of the time though and found being Adamโ€™s mate and second in command involved little time being with him. Her main job was to be keep people out of Adamโ€™s hair, dealing with unimportant pack drama while he handled the more important matters.

For a while she was non-stop flitting between dealing with her own pack issues and visiting sector 2, but then she began to slow, beginning to feel worn out. And sick. It was rare for a werewolf to ever be sick given they were practically immortal. She tried her best to hide her illness from everyone else around her. If anyone noticed her fatigue she quickly passed it off on the small food rations and lack of sleep. The excuse worked, but Lauren knew it was something else. It quickly came to her as the symptoms added up, the final being a missed period.

She was pregnant.

It wasnโ€™t such a sad realization to her. It was simply overwhelming. She had only just become Adamโ€™s mate and with werewolf existence hanging precariously by a thread it was hard to think of bringing a new life into such an uncertain world. Not only that, she had no idea of her mateโ€™s attitude towards family and children. Had he ever had any? Did he want any? They had never really talked about family. She had no idea if he even had parents.

She broached the subject hesitantly with him while they were in their quarters in a rare moment of solitude together. She was sitting in the fainting couch sewing (she did not quite give up her old job as seamstress) while her mate sat to her left reading his papers. She had been in awe of the lavish furnishings but quite amused by the fainting couch at first and had poked fun at him for it. โ€œHow many ladies do you expect to faint in your presence?โ€ she had teased. Ironically, now she found it the most comfortable chair in the room and had claimed it practically for her own. A few times she tried to start asking her question, opening her mouth to speak then shaking her head and going back to her sewing. โ€œDid you-- did you ever have a family? Or want one?โ€ she finally came out with it, trying to make her asking come off more curious than anything.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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โ€œHow many ladies do you expect to faint in your presence?โ€ Lauren suddenly asked from her place on the moth eaten, Victorian fainting couch; interrupting the comfortable silence where they could both focus on immediate tasks at hand-hers being the mending, his battle stratization.

The growing weeks had been tumultuous to say the least, one problem after another arising without fail. Thankfully, most of the sectors had fallen in line without too much provocation, but sector two remained as aberrant and divergent as ever, regardless of his hold over Lauren. Adam also had the sequestration of the city to contend with, with Los Angeles on Lockdown; veritably quarantined, it was difficult to get supplies in and out of the underground. He sighed heavily, his nerves more frayed than his couch as of late what with the constant invasion of his privacy. Sharing your life and domicile with your 'beard' was proving more difficult than originally thought. It was wearing the mask of civility in your sleep, never letting your guard down, and a continual period of faux infatuation.

Adam feigned a chuckle. "Perhaps I should have picked a less steely mate had I wanted my sofa for it's intended use. What you have not taken into consideration though is, perhaps, the couch was for if I start feeling suddenly faint, not yourself or any other ladies I might welcome into my private quarters." He hastily returned his eyes to his transcript, skimming the page for his initial point before she interrupted him once more. โ€œDid you-- did you ever have a family? Or want one?โ€ It was a question so out of left field, he hadn't a moment to prepare himself. His hands mad malformed fists, the aged paper wrinkling at it's edges in his grip. His breath hitched in his chest and eyes burned a lighter shade of crystalline blue.

"What makes you ask that?" He questioned, his voice calm and level, not divulging his state of aggravation. Adam refused to meet her gaze though, keeping it instead locked on the folio before him. She made no move to answer so he continued, his discomposure growing. Had he been of clear and sound mind, his world not in upheaval around him, perhaps he could have handled the situation with...finesse...Ian Bohen would have, but he was Adam lately which harkened him back to an earlier time in history when he was naught but an enslaved animal to do the bidding of his master and creator. This was a bitter memory to recollect, especially now.

"I have not ever had, nor do I want, a family." he stated dryly. "I was born of hell and tore my way out of it only to come to rest in a glorified sewer, dear. The day I'm ready to hang up my general's stripes and settle down to raise a dozen werewolf puppies, you'll be the first to know, after all, they'd be hanging from your teet." He glanced upward, his eyes returned to their more natural shade. He instantly knew he shouldn't have been so curt with her, and now he was curious, what had prompted such a conversation topic?

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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For beings that live so long, pack and family are everything, the only rocks to hold onto in an ever changing world โ€“ because eventually if you lived long enough you would see whole generations on Earth die and turnover to a new. At 108, Lauren was seeing this happen for the first time with her generation rapidly withering away. Adam on the other hand had lived long enough to see this happen over twenty times. What did it say about him then to have found no family in the long duration of his life? It was not his own fault he started out alone in the world, but he had chosen to stay alone. Family was the first place one learned the habit of love without condition; without having formed that habit, it begged the question on what condition did he love her?

โ€œIโ€™m.. I'm sorry, I did not know the topic would upset you so much, forget I said anything dear.โ€ She told him, his words obviously having stung her though she tried to hide it by going back to her stitching. He was looking at her curiously and she could feel it, the question burning behind his eyes, but now she definitely didn't feel it was the time to tell him about the secret in her womb. However, without looking up from what she was doing she made a statement so softly spoken that it seemed to be a thought escaped into the air. โ€œ..But we all donโ€™t know what we want until we have it..โ€

In perfect timing there was a knock on the door and Lauren grateful for the distraction got up to answer it hastily. Moving aside the sliding door, the hulking figure of the Alpha of Sector 3, Conrad, took up the doorframe. โ€œI did not know we were expecting company, please come in.โ€ she greeted him with as much warmth as she could muster, stepping out of the way for him to enter. โ€œMy apologies, it was not a planned visit, but itโ€™s been a while since I have touched base with the General.โ€ Conrad said, referring to Adam, โ€œAnd I had yet to meet his new mate. It's good to finally meet you, Ms. Silverstein."

"It is very nice to meet you too." she said, all civility, recalling she had met him before, once as an Omega and another time with her son, both times catching him staring at her bare calves like a hungry animal as he did to all pretty women in the underground. She reached out her hand to shake his extended one but instead was surprised as he raised it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it, hearkening back to medieval times when such a gesture was more appropriate. โ€œYou are more beautiful than anyone has attempted to describe and I should have you know you are spoken of very highly in all of the packs." A wicked smile crawled across his sepia features, flashing at her his elongated canines. Unlike Adam he was no good at hiding his barbaric roots and any attempt to behave civilized came off phony."You're very flattering." She smiled weakly at him and tried not to recoil her hand too quickly to her churning stomach as he let go. "You are a woman of your time, twentieth century women should learn to take compliments." "Medieval men should learn that's not all we care about." "And she's clever.. You could not have chosen a more perfect mate.โ€ He told Adam, giving him a fraudulent congratulatory smile.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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โ€œIโ€™m.. I'm sorry, I did not know the topic would upset you so much, forget I said anything dear.โ€ He studied her face closely, looking for an explanation the plaintive lines of her expression but unusually found none. โ€œ..But we all donโ€™t know what we want until we have it..โ€ She hastily added, unable to drop the point altogether. She wanted children? She already had a child. That was one of the only few reason's he was with her, to weaponize her against her son and his sector. He should have not let his frustrations get to him, he should have used a calm and cool intellect to garner what her motive was in bringing up the topic. This discontented him, he who was so much more couth than his animalistic counterparts, who was more the man he made himself than the beast he was made into by Fabian Novosad. This was a missed opportunity and a rare oversight on his part that he meant to correct, that was until a knock resounded at the steel door.

Lauren leapt at the chance to answer it and gave it's source the usual genteel greeting. She stepped aside to reveal the megalithic barbarian and Adam's long time ally, Conrad. She and the Alpha of sector 3 exchanged pleasantries, though on Conrad's part it was a bit less civil. You know what they said, you could take the animal out of the Middle Ages, but it would not make him any less antediluvian...or something along those lines. His predacious and hungry smile was poorly concealed and Adam had to scoff at that. This was why he'd never rule more than a single pack, he couldn't do politics or even reign in his baser desires and instincts. He interrupted their back and forth with the clearing of his throat, stepping forward and extending an arm to his cohort. "Conrad, my friend. Always a pleasure, what brings you to this side of the tunnels?" He was all business, their relationship was solely a working one after all. He gripped the man's forearm in a medieval felicitation, they were both too old for hand shaking. His grasp was a tad too tight, a sort of response to the other man's salivating over his mate. Adam would not stoop to a Daryl-esque show of testosterone, and he wasn't possessive over Lauren as he didn't love her and never could, but he didn't like other people admiring his toys.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Conrad Sutherland

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Conrad dually noted the nail digging into his forearm from the other Alpha and withdrew his arm soberly reminded of whose presence he was in. It was best not to piss off the man who was said to have inspired the torture methods of the Spanish Inquisition. โ€œWe are on the precipice of some great changes and my pack members are understandably concerned with what they are, as am I.โ€ Conrad said. They moved to take a seat around the coffee table besides Lauren who remained standing aloofly from them. Lauren didnโ€™t like Conrad but she especially didnโ€™t like Conrad and Adam together in a room. It gave her an uneasy feeling. She was a century years old but their antiquity made her feel like a child in both their presence.

She was eager to leave, not only to escape the uncomfortable feeling of being the youngest in the room for the first time in many years but hopefully to help her mate forget what they had been talking about moments before. โ€œI will leave you two to talk.โ€ Lauren told them. โ€œThank you for allowing me to steal some of your mateโ€™s time Ms. Silverstein.โ€ Conrad said, now more cautious in the way he looked at her. She stopped mid-turn, โ€œOf course.โ€ She dipped her swan-like neck courteously and left the room. Once the door had clicked shut behind her, Conrad turned to Adam in his seat. โ€œI never took Ian or Adam as the type to settle down. Guess I was wrong.โ€ Conrad commented with a mischeivous smile, but Adamโ€™s humorless expression told him otherwise.

Or not. He thought amused. This was definitely the medieval warlord he was talking to and no one lived to be eight centuries years old by doing something so foolish such as falling in love. Conrad felt some glee to have his old leader back. More so than anyone he "knew" Adam and that wasn't saying much, but he at least knew the rules of play so to speak with Adam. โ€œI donโ€™t imagine Iโ€™m wrong though in suspecting you have a plan. The packs are getting worried. We can only live for so long under siege here. We have to fight back against the Warriors. Although it would be easier to do if all the sectors including 2 were on our side.โ€ He sighed disappointedly. โ€œHow is your son-in-lawโ€™s pack coming along? Has your mate swayed them at all to your side?โ€

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Conrad Sutherland

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๏ผฉ๏ผก๏ผฎ ๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผจ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ
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"You needn't worry about sector two, their unraveling requires but the pull of a string." Adam stated calmly, but his brightened eyes betrayed his irate state. It was painfully clear that the alpha didn't enjoy his effectiveness being questioned, and whats more, he wasn't overtly fond of having his 'play things' ogled over. Conrad was in Adam's demesne, and he would yield to his word or suffer the consequences.

"It is not like you to question me...but the again that's probably because anything cerebral has never been your strong suit. Why don't you stick to what you're good at and let me do the scheming for the both of us. All in do time, have patience my old friend." He replied, diaphanous words spoken in such a manner they were reminiscent of the Adam of a bygone age; the surreptitious original wolf that was cold as a Romanian winter and sharp as a slap from from a father, as hard as Turkish armor and wicked as the jokes young boys whispered to one another during mass. Even the word 'friend' dripped with a poison that's sole panacea was the softened, seemingly cordial tone in which it was said.

Adam had his plans, plans to starve out the entire sector until they acquiesced, submitted to his rule, and Lauren would be his key to keep the backlash from coming back on his own sector, on himself. All he had to do was coax his mate into an understanding. Adam was confident that wouldn't be too difficult, Lauren was pliable.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein Character Portrait: Maia Murdock

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๏ผก ๏ผฃ๏ผฏ๏ผฌ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผถ๏ผฅ ๏ผฐ๏ผฏ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฎ๏ผง


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๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผต๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ ๏ผณ๏ผฉ๏ผฌ๏ผถ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฅ๏ผฉ๏ผฎ
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Lauren entered back into the room where Adam stood in profile to her, quiet, gazing through the stone walls past the dank sewer and beyond the boundaries of the city. She wondered where his mind wandered to, what memories he revisited, and what version of himself he was now. She was hesitant to break the introspective silence, but curious to find out what the two war buddies had spoken on. She placed a hand on his shoulder to gently pull him out of his thoughts before she spoke. "How did the conversation go?" she asked, giving him a small heartening smile.

In that moment, Adam was not, in fact, in the best of moods. Conrad had a way of bringing to surfaceโ”€painful memories turned up in his disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid wellโ”€the Adam of bygoner era; the wild, still reckless thing that dared any and all to challenge him. He turned to Lauren and mirrored her expression, pantomiming her feelings back at her. "Not so well, all of the other sectors are in turmoil it seems..." Adam stated, feigning an air of solemnity, his weak smile soon dissolving under the weight of his ready reply. "We need to show a united front, but sector two's division is creating quite a bit of disquiet. I fear..." He paused for effect. "I fear that if they do not pull together with the rest of the packs that panic will infect the other sectors and instead of a warriors, we will have deserters on our hands."

Her expression fell into something not at ease with where this conversation was heading with still the slightest bit of an empathic look in her eye. She brought herself closer, placing a soothing hand on the side of his face where as of late his stubble had grown. "Please do not worry about them my love, they will come around. Give them some time. I will talk to them again." she averred with an aural air of gentle pleading, feeling his exasperation building.

Adam hesitated. Had he not poured enough energy into their relationship? He needed her to be servile now, but coaxing her was like trying to herd a bag of feral cats latterly. She must have been borrowing his strength-an Alpha's strength, fueling herself with his resolve and mistaking it for her own. Lauren was an omega at her core though, and he would remind her of this.

His icy eyes and gathered brows looked ireful and austere, unable to mask his chagrin, but he kept a careful and composed neutrality over the rest of his expression as he formed reply. "My dear, I understand the impulse to be placating here when times are so delicate, but as an Alpha, I have to make the difficult decisions. There is no one but I who can intercede and I can not abide by behavior that would mark that of a traitor." He silently willed her to be of sound mind and understanding, but could soon garner from her expression that she was not. He sighed, raking a hand through his sandy mane before bringing the other one up to her face as she had to him. "I have no choice but to halt all food ration flow to their sector-"

She had dropped her hand as he spoke seeing that she did not have as much sway as she might have hoped over her mate. If this were a mutual relationship of equal footing what she said might have had more weight but since it was all a sham, she had no idea the danger she was treading in contradicting him in any fashion. Her china doll face took on what looked like a parody of its form but was simply another harshly creased version of itself rarely seen -- anger. No, it was indignity. It was the first time in her life she even had a pride for someone to insult. She removed his hand from the side of her face, circling away from him and beginning to pace furiously with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "That's what you came up with? Starve them into submission? Of course! The strategy sounds simply medieval. Fifteen minutes alone with that barbarian and he has you acting like one too." she said scathingly, then stopped to face him once again, her expression of anger weakened with some mixture of anguish. "My son is part of that pack. How could you even suggest such an idea to me?"

Adam growled-not metaphorically, not internally-but very literally snarled. He had lost all semblance of his cool headed, sycophantic persona and had fully disolved into his temper."How could I? HOW COULD I?!" He bellowed unapologetically. "Because I expected my mate, the alpha female, would know what has to be done!" He stepped forward, invading her personal space, then took another step then another until he was cornering Lauren, her back bracing against a stone wall. She was in an untenable situation now. He placed a hand on either side of her head, his arms outstretched and blocking her in as his own head cocked to the side in a bellicose manner. "What's the matter? All bark and no bite?" He asked in a patronizing tone, his voice having fallen into an eerie hushed sort of whisper, breath tickling Lauren's neck. "Did you not think you'd have to make some tough calls? Choose a side when this was all said and done? You made your decision when you agreed to become my mate, to remain in my pack. Now, Act. Like. It." He ground out through barred teeth just before wrapping one of his massive hands around her throat and pulling her forward so that his lips collided roughly with hers. His kiss was not the tender stuff of lovers but instead a show of power that had him biting her lower lip and breaking skin just before he pulled back with a practically vituperative smirk, hand sliding up to caress her jaw with his thumb. It was easy enough to guess what he was thinking with it written as plain as day all over his face. You are mine.

Her powerful presence shrunk to its center while her mind burgeoned with the horror at the monster her love had become. What ego she had was quickly deflated, contained between his two arms and when he pulled her in for a kiss, the phantom shoulders of her wolf form tensed ready to claw and defend its meeker half, but in reality there was no struggle. Her shoulders turned inward as she caved in on herself like a wilting flower bud and had he not been holding her by her chin she might have crumpled into a pile of dead petals made of dried up dreams at his feet. She bowed her head submissively to him, communicating her now humbled spirit.

A sudden and abrupt banging on the door pulled them down from the plain of high emotions and back to reality. โ€Lauren! Lauren itโ€™s me, Maia, I really need to talk!โ€ They both looked from the door back to each other and seemed to come to a quiet understanding. In front of everyone else, it was to be like this never happened. She rolled her shoulders back to a respectable dignified manner that an Alpha female should have, her tears drying up instantly. She wiped the blood off her raw lower lip, fixed her hair, smoothed down the front of her dress. He released her. "Iโ€™m coming." She called out, surprised her voice even worked anymore.

As soon as she opened the door, her chest was being buried into by the sobbing girl, holding onto her tightly like was the only lifeline she had. Well she was basically, and how thin a lifeline it was. "Shh, shh. Itโ€™s okay, itโ€™s okay. Iโ€™m here. Whatever it is I'm sure it will be okay." She hushed the girl, petting down her curly head. Though she would have much rather taken this elsewhere, with no other options she led Maia into the room where Adam lurked in the fringes pretending to give them privacy. They sat down on the couch. She maternally rocked her back and forth like a baby sweetly shushing her, not minding the tears that formed a warm puddle on her blouse. It was something she wished someone had done for her the countless times she had cried after being Turned. "Itโ€™s okay sweetheart. Tell me whatโ€™s going on. Tell me what happened."

โ€œI know who Turned me.โ€ Maia managed to croak out between sobs. She peeled the girl gently back from her so that she could look her in the eyes."Well, who is it?"