[M] This sinful collapse,
#1
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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364 || Dated for 29th, at like, 2 AM. Thorn's house.

Ink was left in a stupor. Not really that, but he wasn't really... all together yet. The journey home had been met with a peacefully sleeping Sura, meaning that, despite his exhaustion, he still had some time to relax outside before going to bed. He wanted to limp into his room, curl up in his hammock and sleep forever- but the buzz of his journey left him wide awake and rearing for something to do.

So he wandered Jordheim. He stopped outside of each of his friends' houses. Andy's. He'd love to see her again, but she'd been so busy lately, he was sure she'd been sleeping for a while now. It was late. He wouldn't wake her. Next was Tem. Though Ink adored Tem's company, it wasn't the young prince the boy sought out tonight- no, he'd hang with him in the daylight. For now, the boy moved on. Colibri? She needed her rest. No. Roland hadn't been home when he'd stopped by, so that voted the wolf out, too. Niernan? Nah, the older male was probably dead to the world. Saul and Lilin were bound to be sleeping too, if not busy with alpha stuff. So, much to his dismay, the boy wandered on...

...until he came to a stop outside of a familiar scented house. Thorn Russo. He'd been an interesting new friend a week ago. The boy stood back with hands in his pockets, tilting his head so his hair would fall to the sides of his face gently. He wore his usual gypsy pants and layered top, along with his belt of everything, but only because he hadn't bothered to stay in- modesty. The optime boy stared dumbly at the hill's door, that familiar and welcoming scent almost too good to pass up. Surely the wily Thorn would be home and awake at this hour! Hesitantly, Ink lingered by the door, hand raised as if to knock. It wouldn't be nice to wake him... I'll knock once. If he doesn't answer then, I'll leave. He rapped the door with his knuckles and stepped back, waiting patiently to see the result. He hoped he hadn't woken the man...

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#2
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Word Count :: 347

This was fun to write. Super fun.


There were nights when Thorn kept the hours of a normal law-abiding diurnal creature. He rose with the sun and set with the sun, perhaps straying an hour or two more here or there but otherwise sticking to a schedule. Then there were times that the old white Russian felt his younger bones creeping back to him and he would find his stash of weed or mushrooms and just chill. Mary Jane was his mistress far more than the mushrooms, he could contribute to society while the smoke filled his lungs, but tripping was something different entirely. Today was one of those days when MJ called him and he couldn't say he had to wash his hair.


He had managed to cook something that resembled a berry jam mess, he knew how savage the cravings for food could be and made sure to cover his bases properly. As he was gently rolling weed together into a second cigarette there was a scent, closely followed by a rapping at his chamber door. Setting the cigarette on the counter and double-checking the fire burning in a small scavenged black iron cauldron he rose and walked to the door. His fedora sat loosely on his head, always atop his head if he was awake and sometimes even after he fell asleep. Otherwise it was just his kilt, no top needed given he was a boy and a wolf and could get away with such things.


Thorn opened the door and smiled before he even saw who stood on the other side of the door. When he did see who it was he smiled a little broader and stood to one side to let Ink in. "You are up late! Come, come inside and sit." It was then that he remembered the cigarettes calling him. "You can smoke with me, green smoke is wonderful to bones, helps young wolves grow." He remembered the promise he made to the leader of Vinatta and he doubled back on his words. "Or not, not everyone does drugs. Drugs bad." He was a horrible liar.


Photo courtesy of fatedsnowfox

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#3
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291 || Ink's mom was a pothead. Tongue He nursed on weed milk.

Thorn's greeting was a grin and friendly, more-than-happy welcome. Ink couldn't help grinning, though a bit awkwardly. He wasn't used to the whole... kilt thing. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the male's ramblings. Smoke? Green Smoke? He'd heard of that, hadn't he? Cannibas, right? It was used in the Caravan often. His mother favored it, especially once she became sick. Was Thorn sick? No, he couldn't be. He didn't smell sick. The male went on to half-heartedly scold the use of drugs, but Ink grinned. "If it's just cannibas, it's not bad. That stuff's good for the body- kept my mum alive for a while." Actually, kept her comfortable during the pregnancy too. He didn't know it yet, but the boy was born and nourished to be a pothead, thanks to his mother's obsession with the stuff. Those of the Carvan had told him he couldn't smoke any until he'd reached a certain age. Was he old enough, now?

The boy stepped inside almost delicately, looking around the place curiously. The sharp, familiar scent of cannibas did indeed reach his nose and he couldn't help smiling- it smelled like home. "I didn't know you smoked it. Any reason, or is it just recreation?" His voice was friendly, curious. He wouldn't say no if it were offered his way- he felt old enough, now, and it would do him some good to relax after the long trip. He also wouldn't openly ask to take part in it- he was in no hurry to get intoxicated. He hadn't even sipped alcohol before- cannibas would be an interesting first try of anything intoxicating. Y'know, other than Gemma, but that was a whole other kind of toxic.

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#4
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Word Count :: 238

Cannabis. Bis. It's probably just Ink but the word keeps staring at me. O_O


"It is a miracle plant." He had known of a few wolves that had used the stuff to help with illness and at least one of them was partially blind with pain in his eye. His homeland hadn't looked down on those that liked the drug but they had always warned that maybe someday the drug would become more important than those that he cared about. He wasn't there yet but in new social situations it was far more familiar and kind than new creatures could be. If he just stood up to his anxiety and started a conversation he was fine, he could be the life of the party but Mary Jane helped lubricate his social wheels and make the train of thought run a little smoother to the station.


Ink came inside and Thorn widened his already friendly and happy smile. He pointed to a little alcove that offered a place to sit and the Thorn opted to stand. The elder Russo straightened a scavenged thermometer and began wandering toward the cigarettes he had rolled. There was a tiny part of his mind that wondered what Ink thought of his home, if the black and white wolf was just being friendly or actually was interested. Ink's question made him pause and he tended the little fire. "Have done so since I was young. Helps me relax, helps the aches of being old, helps me meet new creatures. Reasons are list long. " He didn't want to sound depressed, like he couldn't survive without it which wasn't true. His smile had dropped and he let it slip back onto his face, tail wagging as he picked up the cigarette. "Can share if you want, or I've got two." Skip to the point Russo.


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#5
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152 || SHORT.

Ink toddled on over to sit down, crossing his legs underneath him in a show of flexibility- unconciously so, mind you. He brought his tail around to rest against his hip and leaned forward on his knees, ears perking at the offer. "Oh jeeze, twist my rubber arm." He joked, nodding towards the rolled cig that Thorn held, happy to share, considering it would be his first time smoking anything. "Be prepared for coughing fits galore, though. Baby lungs."

He certainly didn't mind his first time smoking being with Thorn. The two got along great and Thorn was never a downer, as far as the Trovato could tell. "So, how's them brewery plans coming along?" His friendly smile became a coy grin, the black tip of his tail twitching. Conversation to pass the time? Probably. But the boy really was curious to know as much as he could about Thorn's project.

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#6
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Word Count :: 316

Inky and Thorny sitting' in a tree!


Thorn dug around and pulled out a hollow wooden crate to sit on, after revealing the smaller nesting box that was underneath it. That became a table and the larger box became his seat as he scooted closer to Ink and put the fiery cauldron between them. The second rolled cigarette was set near the cauldron and Thorn fussed with his kilt until it draped around the box instead of hiking it up his white legs. Salt and pepper tail swayed slowly as he nodded to Inky and pretended to be completely serious about the whole situation. He failed. "Everyone virgin sometime, whether normal or Mary Jane virgin." Big stupid grin, really big and really stupid. He slowly lit the tip of the rolled joint, bringing it to his muzzle to gently inhale and allow the embers to burn. If the cherry didn't like properly then the joint would go out and nothing killed a friendship like a mis-lit joint. Or so Thorn thought.


Taking a longer inhale he passed it to the younger wolf, exhaling as he did so, then shaking his head. "Little puffs," he warned, "dis comes from my motherland." His accent was already starting to slip in and he tried not to frown. The mention of the brewery almost caught him off-guard but the older wolf paused to think and replied, "it goes well. Have found temperature reader," he pointed to the thermometer that he had adjusted earlier, "and found lots of big pots to heat wort and baby beer in. Now just need jugs, bottles and things to make moving liquid easier. Hope ze pack will help there, many bottles needed to make many good bottles of strong beer." There was a passion in his voice, not yet numbed by the green smoke and his green eyes sparkled a little more. He liked this wolf, something about him made him comfortable.


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#7
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380 || P-U-F-F-I-N-G! ~♪

Ink's ears perked up at the retort and then proceeded to disappear behind black hair. The expression couldn't have been more priceless, though it only lasted a second. He looked away quick enough with a small laugh to almost cover it up completely. That was the only reaction given to the comment, though, as soon the joint was lit, started, puffed and passed. The boy took it between surprisingly well placed fingers (he'd seen his mother puff a million times growing up, at least) and nodded at the advice. He readied himself with a quick- but not too quick- breath and drew off the roll, listening to Thorn as he spoke of the brewery. He stopped abruptly and moved the joint into Thorn's reach while moving his head away and down to cough out the smoke slightly, managing to exhale before errupting into a coughing fit.

Not a big one. For some reason, Ink had this way about him; everthing he did was soft or cute or girly in some way or another. Even his coughing fit. It was all chest coughing, the small sound of it barely noticeable but obviously coughs. He covered his mouth with his sleeves until they subsided and he cleared his throat testingly. "S'all good!" He clerified, giving a customary thumbs up.

Another clearing of the throat, and it was back onto conversation. "Pipes and pumps." He stated simply, before realizing his vagueness and continuing. "For moving liquid. You set up a pipeline to where it needs to go and connect it all to pumps. It's rough work but it's easier than buckets and pails." He'd grin at that, cheeky for a change. The tingling behind his ears was a new feeling- he liked it. "My mom taught me all about our mobile wine thing." Oh, that sounded smart. "We'd bring wines and juices to sell and trade in our caravan, and it was always in barrels. My grandfather figured out a way to turn the barrels into fountains without letting people mess with the tap- pipes. I guess... he got the idea from humans or something. I dunno." He gave a shrug, finally finished rambling. The boy liked to talk when it came to the things he knew- he loved to teach.

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#8
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I've been writing this in my head now for a while. Ink is just so adorable, that thumbs up thing really made me laugh.


How long had it been since he had shared some of his marijuana with another creature? Had Rurik been the last wolf to have that honour? There was something slightly depressing about smoking on your own and Thorn could never shake the feeling that he was truly alone when he was smoking by himself. The white wolf knew that not everyone understood or approved of the rolled joints but often he wished it was as natural as hunting or fishing, if only to get more people involved. It was far too easy for the older Luperci to let the days pass by without contact and that, that was depressing. Reaching back to pluck a coin off the shelf and setting it by the cauldron he smiled and waiting for the pass.


The joint was passed and the white Russian made a point of watching how Ink handled the green smoke. He seemed to do very well for a first-timer and it was everything in Thorn not to pat the other male on the back when he was coughing. He didn't know Ink that well yet and so he restrained himself and fiddled with the join in his hand. Taking a little puff off the joint to keep it burning he made sure Ink was okay before taking a longer draw off it, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs. He paused, holding his breath before slowly exhaling. The whole process was like a ritual to Thorn and he refused to rush it for anyone. He gently tapped the end to take off the bit of burnt ash that had accumulated and passed it back to Ink.


He considered the males words and rubbed his chin. "That might work. You show me? I get supplies soon and then you can show me how to make them work. I've only seen the old way, the new way sounds simpler, better." His ears pushed forward a bit and his tail wagged a little faster. The green smoke was just started to wiggle its way into his brain and he smiled a bit broader. "You have more ideas, Inky? You seem to be the idyeal'niy tri… perfect three." He chuckled and waved his hand a little to help facilitate the words in english. "Cute, smart and funny." Yes, Thorn had no problem hitting on someone a tenth his age.


#395


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#9
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250 || Indeed!

The joint came back around after Thorn had his puff and Ink took it between those same delicate fingers as before, managing to puff it without really coughing this time. As he exhaled, he looked away- Thorn's flirty comment was met with a shy expression and a nervous smile. He decided to ignore it for now- Ink wasn't much of a flirt, especially with other guys... though the idea of kissing a guy didn't really turn him off any. He'd never admit it.

"Once we have the supplies for it, I'd be happy to help you set it all up. I could write down a list of what you'd need." He held the joint out for Thorn to take as he spoke. "You could use a delivery service, too. Sell some of your products to not only Vinatta, but to our neighbors. I'm sure they'd appreciate it and we could get some good trade in return, good relations too." He liked this. This whole planning thing. Projects were a good way to pass the time and an even better way to help develope a sense of community.

A tingling sensation worked its way into Ink's spine and head. It showed as he readjusted his posture, slouching slightly as he rested his weight on his lap. "Have you actually bothered to write anything down yet?" He smirked now, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly. Ink was all about the planning stages. It was the building he had problems with.

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#10
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I ran with this one. Thorn is getting buzzed so, why not?


Thorn would flirt with anyone, anything, anywhere. That wasn't to say that Ink wasn't special and that he wasn't the things Thorn said he was. He was all that and a bag of chips in Thorn's mind. It just meant that he wasn't ashamed when he flirted so blatantly and openly. He didn't see any reason to keep those kinds of feelings back. Sometimes it made another person's day to know that someone found them interesting, attractive, special. If anything he was doing the world a service in being so blunt. Be blunt and give them a blunt, he could start a shop. So he grinned, then laughed and fluttered non-existent eyelashes. It was all in good fun and given the other black and white wolf wasn't leaving or throwing a fist it seemed he was good natured about it. He left the matter for a moment though as discussion returned about the brewery.


"A list would be good. Plans were go near the Sugar Woods, find a sugar house and get things there. Halifax will take more time, 2 days journey, maybe." It didn't help that he didn't ride a horse or even own a horse, that would make the journey a lot simpler and shorter. Thorn took the joint and considered Ink's words, a trading system for alcohol would surely profit all the packs that joined it. Maybe it would help to get Vinatta more on the map. Puff, puff, pass. "Very interesting. I will talk to the leaders too, they like this idea and your words make it better. It could become very good for Vinatta. I have done bartering back in Russia, we traded many things there.


Thorn noted the shift in posture and gave a little nod to say he felt the same, straightening his own slouching body and running a hand through his salt and pepper tail. He smirked and noted the eyebrow raise. A little sigh of relief ran silently through him. Did he write anything down? He had thought of little other than Russia and the brewery. "Da! Da!" He stood and fumbled in a pocket of his kilt for the scraps of paper and bit of pencil he kept in a bigger pocket. "I know basic supplies and basic pieces to fix up inside brewery. Still must talk to pretty… Saul, must talk to Saul about his ideas." Great job Thorn, let Ink know about your little crush on Saul. "We write more down." He set the paper with cyrillic scrawls on it down and pushed the pencil nub towards Ink.


WC: 430


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#11
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310 || Weu! XD Witty banter away!

Ink was thoroughly enjoying all of this. Spending time with Thorn was proving to be a great way to spend the day. While the man spoke, Ink listened with interest. Sugar House? He'd heard little about the Sugar Woods, had barely gone that way before. Somehow, the word made sense though- a house stocked with sugar from the old days, maybe? Probably. Thorn passed him the joint and Ink took a puff from it, another, and then passed it back as he exhaled. Next came the paper and pencil. Ink looked at the nub and smirked- wouldn't last long. Luckily, he had quills and ink at his place, for a better copy of the list. So, he took up 'arms' and started writing things down as they came.

Piping. Lumber. Gears. Wheels. Bottles. He put down little notes for each one, why they were needed, how many, what kinds- some were left blank, of course, for he didn't know what to note about them. The mention of 'pretty' Saul stopped him from writing for a moment, a sly grin working its way onto his face as he looked pointedly at Thorn. "I wouldn't say Saul's pretty." He teased, testing the air about it.

"Regal, maybe. Handsome, if that's your kind of thing. But not pretty." He leaned forward and waved the pencil nub at him, lifting his eyebrows. "A lady can be pretty. A cat or a horse could be pretty." He continued. "But somehow, I don't see our lovely leader as being the 'pretty' type." The grin Ink wore couldn't have been possible for him, had he not been smoking. The corners of his eyes were crinkled with how toothy his expression had become, the thoughts revolving around the brewery now fading from his mind. "Does Thorny have a horny for our Virding?" Oooooo, cheesy teasing deployed!

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#12
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-smirk-


Thorn watched with interest as Ink jotted down notes and items. His own scrawling in his native tongue seemed rather unimpressive compared to it. The white Russian was glad for it though, it made the conversation that much more interesting. When he had come home to rest, he had no idea he would be having this much fun. His purely coincidental meeting with the other salt and pepper wolf had been just that, coincident and yet it had paid off ten-fold. Now here he was enjoying a joint and discussing his future plans for the brewery with a good friend and the fruits of their labour tonight would eventually translate into a wonderful business they could trade to other packs. How much better could it get?


Running a finger down the list to forget what he had said about Saul, Thorn would have turned scarlet if he could at the turn of conversation. It was all his fault too! He had intended to continue with his statement, to say pretty handsome or pretty amazing looking. It seemed Ink was feeling the effects of the smoke, the white wolf seemed more open and more extroverted. The elder Russo could get used to this. He smiled at Inky's words and reached a finger out in his slightly hazy mind to poke the pencil nub. "He is many things and perhaps pretty isn't the best word…" Tapping the table and puffing, he handed the joint back before coming to his own defence. Gesturing with a hand, his mouth wide in a smirk and tail wagging, "what does Inky think of our lovely leader? Thorny's not afraid to say when he think someone's attractive." The cheesy teasing was only enhancing the evening and the smoke let Thorn's features soften a touch and his smile to become a smaller smirk. "Like you Inky, you're beyond pretty…"


WC: 311


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