contaminating everything [p]

Lolita Monroe · 01-07-2010, 01:43 AM

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700 words.

####The unhappy look on her partner’s face went unnoticed by her, but she leaned into his touch instead, welcoming it. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in any way, positive or negative, and she so craved physical contact with anyone. It did not matter what kind of touch it was, but just feeling someone near her was good enough. It made her feel less alone, as if she belonged with someone else, even if they were practically strangers. “You’ve got one right next to you,” she whispered sadly, before sighing loudly, shaking her head briskly. This was not a time to be sad, not with the warmth of the liquor running through her veins and her mind clouded by the lovely, fruit-flavored smoke. Emerald eyes glimmered as she turned to look at him once more, straightening out her torso so that she was no longer leaning into him. There was no need for her to bring him down now, when they were in such high spirits. It was a dangerous game she played, though, flirting and dancing with the loneliness that followed her. She did not want to be sad now, though, when she was having such a good time with the Russian pirate, and she certainly did not want to bring him down along with her.

####If there was anything to be said about her family, it was that they had always been emotionally separated. No one had ever been close to one another that Lolita had ever noticed, with the exception of her passionate relationship with Pippa. She did not know what it felt like to be a part of a large family, and she did not know what would have been expected of her. “I have one brother, two sisters, and that is the extent of my family,” she said shortly, leaving out her deceased mother, unknown father, and living-but-estranged uncle. She hated him, anyway, so it certainly was not as if he counted for anything. She hated her brother, too, but that was different. By killing her, he’d created a bond she could not ignore. “Back at home, no one ever really used their shifted forms, unless it was for special circumstances,” she said, stressing the last two words in an almost mocking manner as she thought of the Elders and her uncle. As far as she knew, those were the only ones who had been granted frequent use of their two-legged form. She and Pippa had done it on many occasions, preferring their encounters to be in that form. It had been the form she had been in when she had died, and now she was stuck in it. “Now, I have no choice, but it is not so bad. I prefer it, too,” she added, very much a fan of the hands she had in this form. They allowed her to do so much more than her four-legged form could offer her.

####He spoke of a place she had never heard of, which was not surprising in the least, but as he continued, he spoke of other things she was unfamiliar with. “I have only drank and smoked this herb,” she mused, curious to know what these other drugs were like. Drugs had never been a part of her life in her old pack, but had simply become a part of her death when she picked up the habit from a passerby who had helped her get started. Because of this, it was unsurprising that she had not heard of the drugs he spoke of, never having found many others who smoked, let alone did other things. If they gave her the same feelings that marijuana did, then Lolita was most definitely interested in them. “Can you find the others here?” If she could try them, then she would do it in a heartbeat, more out of curiosity than anything else. She had started smoking because she felt that she needed to pump life back into her, and though it was not completely life-giving, it was good enough. If she tried anything else, it would be to see what it was like, and nothing else. What other reason was there?

Table by Samael Lykoi![/html]

Rurik Russo · 01-16-2010, 05:29 AM

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531.

There were, of course, grins and leers from the Russian wolf; he was not one to hold off on flirting. He didn't dull down his personality much; to Rurik, life was a game. One's primary pursuit in it was pleasure—he had long given up on love. Once was enough to burn him, to scar him deeply enough to keep him away from deep commitment forever. His children were different from women; they were an extension of him and they deserved the best treatment from the Russian werewolf simply because he'd helped create them. Were it not for Rurik, they would not exist; therefore he must play some role in their lives.

"I would say y'look like you can take care of yourself, but everyone needs a pick me up every once in a while," he said, the grin on his face clear what his intent was. Rurik preferred the blunt method; he would soften up his ladies with a suave comment and dive in for the kill, and more often than not it worked, whether it was for his pretty face or his ways one simply could not tell. Flirting was something quite natural for the wolf, and he was certainly not afraid to follow through with his offers.

The werewolf listened to the pale woman describe her family, a concerned look passing over his face. He couldn't imagine coming from such a small family, and he could only hope that Lolita's family had treated her kindly and showed her love. After all, it was not the size of the family but the amount of love that it produced. "No worries, chica. Mine family does not judge who I bring home for dinner," he said, smiling. They would accept her as they would anyone else Rurik showed affection for; Zinoviya held out hopes that someday the wandering Russian would come home to Sobirat'sya with a nice girl and settle down, but it simply was not happening for Rurik.

The idea of spending more time on four legs was not foreign to Rurik; he knew that was more common on this side of the world. Still, he'd only been four-legged a few times since gaining the ability to shift, and it still puzzled him why these feral types preferred their Lupus forms to the dexterity of their Optime forms. He couldn't judge, though. "The same might be said for mine home. We do not really run on four legs much," he said, punctuating the statement with a chuckle. "To each his own, though," the wolf added quickly, surely not wishing to offend the woman's family's choice of lifestyle.

Her question brought him to think, and he considered this for a moment. "Some of it grows wild, maybe mushrooms here. Opium? I do not think so. I bring seeds, maybe if I find someone to plant them here..." he trailed off, thinking. He would eventually trade these seeds with Anselm, who had a far better chance of germinating a plant than Rurik did himself. "If I do find any, I will surely look you up," he added excitedly. Tripping was always an experience, and one shared with comfortable partners was surely best.

Lolita Monroe · 01-25-2010, 05:28 PM

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I swear I replied to this, was so convinced that I just went through every single post link in my sosu count to find it, and I wanted to find out if I accidentally posted elsewhere. . . Nada, I'm just a suck. o.o; But a confused suck. 620 words.

####She smirked heavily at his words, the meaning behind it not completely missed. Lolita was always one to appreciate a good deal of flirting—and more, when she could find someone to give it to her. It never meant much to her at all, but when she found someone good, there was always a chance that she would go back to them for more. She did not mind spreading her love around multiple times, it was a nonissue. “Maybe you’ll have to give me a pick-me-up sometime,” she suggested with a small laugh of her own. She would not mind getting something like that from Rurik, not one little bit. He knew his alcohol and his herb, and seemingly everything else. It only seemed logical he would be experienced, per se, in other matters. A coy grin passed over her muzzle at the idea of being intimate with the pirate, even if it was only once, but it would not be today. Maybe soon, though.

####The broken bits of a family that had existed between those that were blood related to her were not ones she enjoyed thinking about, knowing all too well how awful family could be to one another sometimes. It was most unfortunate, especially when bad actions brought about the vengeful sides in people. Lolita had never been an angry individual, but simply annoyed at her condition and her state of being. Her body had never been right, but that had been her only real qualm with life before her death. But it had been the actions of her awful brother that had brought out the worst in her, the desire to hurt him and everyone else she felt deserved it increasing by the day. The hatred lurked beneath her skin, simmering until it would finally be released in some form, ignored on most days. She had not always been like this, though, and she hated knowing how much she had changed in death. There was really nothing good of her left.

####“Do you often bring ladies home for dinner?” she asked, mocking an innocent tone, trying with incredibly difficulty to stifle the grin that threatened to spread at those words while she attempted to pout at the mere suggestion of him bringing home someone else. Of course she did not care if he did, because she would certainly never begrudge him, or anyone else, their taste in having many partners. Still, it was fun to joke around with him in a way she rarely ever did, as if she did not have much else to worry about. That could also be related to the combination of alcohol and smoke, as she did not partake in the former nearly as much as the latter of the two. She had never been overly concerned with the way she felt when drinking or smoking, but had only been smoking so much due to her death. It was good for her to keep her body moving, and the side effects of smoking were only that—side effects, nothing she went out of her way for.

####The idea of trying something else, however, was very intriguing. Drugs had never been part of her social life, something she had done alone for so long that it seemed strange to think that there were so many here who smoked as she did. It was less surprising to hear that there were drugs she had not heard of, as she did things alone, but she found the idea completely enthralling. “Yes, please do! I would like to try these things, with you,” she added, hoping he would look her up either way. The Russian pirate was most definitely fun, and Lolita enjoyed his company.

Table by Samael Lykoi![/html]

Rurik Russo · 01-26-2010, 09:23 AM

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No worriessss. <3

The Russian's silvery muzzle split wide into a grin, and he leered at the red-haired woman, already enamored with her. She hadn't come off as strange to the pale wolf in the least. She did seem a bit depressed, though Rurik figured that could happen to anyone. To her statement he gave a nod in her direction, leveling his blue-eyed gaze at her, seriousness creeping over his face for a moment. "Name the time and place, love, and I'm as good as there," he said, and he certainly meant it—the werewolf was rather indiscriminate with his loving, and he certainly wasn't picky.

Lolita's next statement cracked that seriousness immediately, and shook his black-haired head quickly. "Only my favorites," he said, and this was true—he had a lot of lovers, and while he liked a great many of them, some weren't exactly the type to bring home to mother, and this he knew. Kiska had been one of those, and maybe Phasma, too—he didn't know Lolita too well, but he liked her a hell of a lot for the short time that they'd been together. She was a good smoking partner, and Rurik's brothers would have absolutely adored her. Rurik thought Schast would have been particularly jealous of her, but he was dead now. His older brother only bested him by a year age-wise, but the elder man had always considered himself far less able to get the ladies than his younger siblings. Thorn was the one to simply evince confidence; there wasn't a woman he couldn't bed or a challenge he couldn't conquer.

"Where might I look you up?" he asked. The werewolf certainly planned on doing so; he was never particularly busy, and he didn't exactly have a pack to call allegiance to anymore. He hadn't really since Syemv had dissolved—while he'd enjoyed the time spent in Aremys, it was distinctly different from the pirate pack he'd called home for so many months.

Lolita Monroe · 01-27-2010, 02:06 AM

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You rock. =D <33 575 words.

####Lolita did not want to make any concrete plans, knowing she would not be able to be held responsible for remembering them. It was not that she really had a terrible memory, but she just did not think of things like days and times and predetermined meetings. The desire to do something like plan meetings and actually follow through with them had died out with her death and her separation from Pippa. It was easier for her to just let things happen, instead. There was really nothing else she could do, anyway, so she did not think it to be terrible for her to live her life in an unplanned fashion. Things would happen when they happened, and if they never did occur, then there was no harm done. She did not tend to get attached to anyone or anything or even any place, not anymore. “I don’t know that yet, but you can count on it,” she added, hoping he would not press for an actual plan. He did not seem like the type who would, so there did not seem to be much at risk there. Rurik seemed like he probably did things the same way that she did—whenever things happened was when they happened, the end.

####It pleased her to know that he counted her among those he would like enough to bring home to his family, and it did not seem like he meant that in a commitment-related way. Lolita was glad he did not seem like the type to get attached to his lovers, either, and that they shared a common interest in spreading their love around to anyone who would take it. That was the best way to live—without attachments and only having an interest in sharing their loving. One could never have too much sex—it was not love, in her mind, for herself—and the more you had, the better. Attachments only led to complications, and she was not at all willing to let herself fall into such a trap. With Pippa, she had considered it a good thing, but there was nothing good about the idea now. No one else would get commitment from her, unless the only commitment they wanted was to get together more than once for sex but did not want her to be exclusive. Such a thing would never happen for her again, the creamy Dahlian knew.

####At his question, she pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying to decide what would be her best option. She knew that trespassers were highly frowned upon in Dahlia, as with most packs, so he could not exactly come to her home. Besides that, her tree was not particularly exciting or open to guests. It would likely be best for them to come to the city again for anything that they did together. “I live in Dahlia de Mai, so if you come to the borders and call for me, I’ll meet you there and we can come here again or explore somewhere else. I doubt it’d be good fro you to come into Dahlia’s territory, and I live in a tree, so it’s not like it’s exciting there, either,” she added by way of explanation. It did not occur to her that someone might find it strange that she lived in a tree, of all things, rather than a den. It seemed completely normal to her, since she lived in that very lonely tree.

Table by Samael Lykoi![/html]

Rurik Russo · 02-12-2010, 07:06 AM

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Hokay, so we will wrap this one up here, and plot for moar Rurik-Lolita laters, y/y? :3

“Whenever, wherever,” he said with a grin, reinforcing the permanence of the meeting—he was cool with not setting anything in stone other than that it would be quite nice to hang out again and a plan (abstract and at an unknown point in time) was all he required. The silver-furred werewolf was certainly appreciative of free-spirited-ness; he was not seeking commitment anywhere, and he would not change for anyone. The only girl who had ever had the possibility of truly roping him in and settling him down had long passed out of his life—Kiska was nothing more but a minty green ghost in his head, her dyed fur a cherished memory of his, though he tried not to keep her in his head for too long. Their relationship had been put to quietus; there was no need to keep digging it up again.

The silver-furred werewolf had never been to Dahlia de Mai—he was relatively new to these lands and he hardly knew the names of all the packs. This could be a learning opportunity as well, he figured—after all, he wanted to secure a niche in this strange new place just as well as he had in the old place. Even then, the silver-furred werewolf knew he had done it the wrong way last time—starting up his own group had been ill-advised; he would have been better to relinquish Syemv once the original members had departed and simply melded the remnants into one of the area packs. These were entirely new lands, though, and Dahlia de Mai had nothing to do with Syemv. “Dahlia de Mai, huh? I'll be sure to swing by—maybe we can go for a walk on the beach, eh?” he said, a grin sliding across his features. The beach was his favorite spot to take girls—something about the salt and sea and being with him seemed to deaden their inhibitions, though he supposed it might not matter where he took his lovers, after all.

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