turmoil

Crestview 
#1
Don't mind this guy over here trying not to think with his dick.


Rowan didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing her away. Her as in Milla. Carmilla. The woman that he had liked, accidentally turned into a leopard and then loved. And guess what, idiot?! She loved him back. Sure, they had their fair share of there and back again in their relationship. He left to get further along in work. She left because she was going to get her things and then bring them back… only to be taken hostage. The idea still pissed him off.

At one point, Rowan even bought a ticket to fly down there. His anger was white hot. He even shifted in fury, claw marks still covered what was left of the desk in his den. He kept the door locked, not wanting Carmilla to see that side of him. To see the weakness that was never there. He had always been so sure of himself. And then - after all of this - he felt broken. Like he was trapped in a burning building.

That hadn’t happened in a long, long time. Perhaps it was time for him to change professions. He could always become a mechanic like his cousin Quinn. He sighed, bracing his upper body on either side of the island, his knuckles white from his grip. Rowan had waited until carmilla left that day. Possibly going to the fair, possibly the collection of shops down at Red Rock… perhaps to find a job. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed to get his shit together before he completely lost it.

Before he lost them. Could he lose them again? He couldn’t. At least he knew that answer.

He was pissed at her, at him at the world and that needed to stop. He needed to move past this. He needed to be with her or let her go.

He took a deep breath, but that did nothing to ease the ache in his chest. Was it supposed to hurt like that? Surely, there was nothing wrong. Not when they healed ungodly fast. A heart attack or stroke would probably heal before it even hit home. At least, that’s what Rowan thought.

Rowan pushed away from the island, moving to pace back and forth in the tiny space of his kitchen, hands rubbing up and down his face. Really? Why the fuck was this so difficult?? His chest rumbled, the beast within clearly unhappy about the situation. It knew what it wanted, but the human needed to get on board. Could he open up his heart again? Could he be vulnerable and live if she chose to walk away?

If she walked through the door that minute. He wouldn’t have an answer for her. If she challenged him to it, he wouldn’t be able to give her what she wanted. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lie. The harsh reality of the situation was that Rowan didn’t know which was a lie. The fact that he loved her and he thought she was his mate or the fact that he might not want to take that final step and tether themselves together and have it end up being a mistake later on?

There were always two sides to every story.

Rowan stalked to the fridge, opening the door with a little more strength than necessary before yanking out a beer and popping the top with his thumb. It was gone in just a few seconds. It wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t strong enough. When did he get so weak? So indecisive? He had always gone off of instinct. When did that instinct turn into hesitation. He knew when. When she left him… again.

Screw the beer. He threw the glass in the recycling bin, the sharp sound of glass hitting glass rang in his ears. He didn’t care. He went for the good stuff. The strong stuff. Colonel EH Taylor Barrel Proof Bourbon Whiskey - 135 proof, 67.3% alcohol. That would do the trick. Surely. He didn’t bother putting it in a glass. Instead, he lifted it to his lips and walked out the door to his back patio. There, he would lounge in one of his seats, taking in the view of the city and sorting out his fucked up emotional turmoil.

The alcohol helped. It numbed the rage, the fear… everything. It made it so the danger of a shift was further off but still in the works. He didn’t know when Milla would get home. One thing was for sure, he’d be drunk off his ass and probably wouldn’t be able to walk inside without major guidance. Or maybe he would just sleep here. It was comfy and it lacked any manual effort from him. Drink. Drink. Drink.
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#2
Had she ever even been to Crestview? Raziyya didn't think so. But she was now here mostly out of curiosity, mostly to see if there was a leftover cat she might be able to torment. She flew the skies as a bat, safe under the cover of night.

It didn't take long before she did pick up a whiff, and she circled a block once before she tracked from exactly which house it was. The vampire took to a high bough of the nearest tree, settling into a natural hang upside down.

He looked a miserably drunk thing, which was undoubtedly fun to play with. But first to see if he had any reaction to her presence, her scent. She was certain she gave off as unpleasant of one to their kind as they did to her.

At least she didn't need to breathe!
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#3
The bottle was what... 3/4 gone by the time he set it down on the side table of his chair. He didn’t quick know. All he knew was that he felt completely, blissfully and utterly numb by the time his fingers left the glass of the bottle.

There was a buzzing in his hears and tingle in his lips, but that was all. The leaped within was quiet, like Rowan had finally drank the beast far enough away to leave him and his pathetic human thoughts alone. Rowan couldn’t say that he liked the feeling - having relied on the beasts instincts and constant opinion for some time now.

He almost missed it, the smell of death and decay. His nose scrunched up and -after a few terrible tries - he sat up in his chair, looking around to find the source. Rowan hadn’t encountered a vampire before so it didn’t even dawn of him that one was so near in the form a bat. He just hoped that whoever killed that animal killed it quick.... he also hoped that it’d soon rain to wash the smell away.
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#4
It took him a while, his senses rendered stupid apparently. Raziyya watched through it all, though there was some excitement as he finally seemed aware of her.

"Keep looking," she spoke into his head, amused but mostly by the idea of him having never met a vampire before. He seemed poorly suited for the games she wanted to play, which made him greatly suited, actually.
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#5
"Keep looking." The voice rang in his head clear as day when everything else was murky and muddled. What in the actual fuck? Rowan’s brow creased in confusion. It wasn’t a voice he heard before unless it was on some TV show he let play for background noise.

The stench lingered, strange when it game out of no where. The beast within on edge for some reason and Rowan wasn’t dumb enough to ignore it. Nor was he dumb enough to stand when he’d end up falling on his ass and knocking over something in the process.

He did as he was told and looked around, the hair on the back of his neck on end. Something was out there and he was starting to become aware enough to not like it. "Whostherrree?" The question came out slurred, sounding like one word, his Southern twang easily distinguishable now that the alcohol fully set in.
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#6
She withheld the urge to laugh as he slurred and looked every which way for her. This drunk little kitty cat!

"I'm invisible, but you can see me if you shift."

How wonderful it would be to see what he looked like in full. Maybe just the idea put in his head would be enough to trigger it; they were often so happy to break into form.
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#7
That voice rang in his head again, practically begging him to shift. Yeah. Whatever.

He rolled his eyes, and sat back. Whatever this was would pass. He wasn’t into play games. Not when he had a real problem to solve.

"Fuck off," he grumbled, closing his eyes. It’s eventually go away, especially if it was just his subconscious playing with him because he was drunk. Lord knew the imagination went wild when you missed it with alcohol or drugs.
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#8
Boring. That was alright. She could make this more fun.

Wiggling, the little bat clambered along the bark of the bough to where it grew from the tree; the greatest area of support, of course. From there, she took her full form.

His eyes were closed, so she sent a rough gust of air, intending to blast it into his face like a March gale and make his breathing life difficult for a few seconds.
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#9
The stench remained and after a few seconds, breathing became difficult as a gust of wind hit him out of no where. His eyes popped open, missy green taking over as he jerked up, nearly toppling off the chair in the process.

But there she sat - a woman a on a tree and a... vampire. The feline within growler uncomfortably, remembering all Rabbit told him about them. His eyes burned with irritation even when they were unfocused from alcohol.

"What the fuck do you want?" he grumbled. Unable to sounds as threatening as he wanted. At the moment, he was too miserable to handle this shit.
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#10
Funny how he hadn't been able to identify a vampire before. "A little fun, obviously," she smiled. He knew Rabbit, an amusing detail considering Edvin had set her on fire not long ago.

"Tell me, what kind of cat are you?"

Comfortable where she was up in the tree, knowing he'd have to stumble sloppily to his feet before he could make any attempt to try to hop like a, well, rabbit, for the hope of a reach at her.
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#11
He snorted. The sound unattractive and feigning disinterest.

"One that can’t be bothered. What type of vampire are you?"

He didn’t give information without getting it first. That was a fucked up way of starting a convo nosy, smelly creature.
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#12
Just like every shifter she'd ever come across, he was rude and brash and thought himself too good to answer questions.

"The suffocating kind," she answered, and within a second she'd voided out all the air within his vicinity and held him from being able to breathe.

Give her a show, cat.



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#13
He felt his breath leave him, seemingly drying up in his body coupled with the inability to breath. The beast within was sluggish, poisoned with alcohol and unable to have the best reaction time. A single hand - not holding his adult sippy cup - shot up, clutching his throat, all the while glared at the vampire who was cruel enough to come near his property and start shit.

Still, he was in the state of mind that if he died, at least he wouldn't have to do make a decision about Milla. It would spare him the emotional pain that she put him through the physical pain he put his body through. It was like swallowing hot branding iron whenever he was around her and yet, he wanted more. How was this any different.

He could feel the beast trying to claw its way through the murk that was his subconscious. Eyes were a mossy green, realizing that he could do nothing to defend himself from except.

Rowan didn't even think about it. As fast as he could, he took the bottle of alcohol in his hand and threw it at her face as hard as he could. Perhaps that would break her hold on him. Enough for him to get up and slither back inside. Could it hurt him there? He didn't know.


Hit

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#14
Look how fast and perfectly in control he could move while suffocating. Raziyya was struck in the face dead on to the earned effect of a broken nose, and with a cry at the indignity of it all she lost her grip on the air.

"Rude animal," she huffed as she bled dead blood from her nostrils, but it was with something of a laugh. Of course that was because as far as injuries went, she would heal quite fast from this.

She would try to suffocate him again as she held one hand to her face, only to find he was already escaping her, retreating into his hovel. Now what could she do?

Ah, she had an idea!

Raziyya set her own nose back with an unladylike grunt before taking her bat form and taking flight and flying off out of his view, face still smarting at the pain of it all.
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#15
It was hard, stumbling inside when the pressure in his lungs and blood in his face started to build up. It was a terrible feeling, more pained by the fact that he was drunk. He stumbled into the leg rest, bracing his hands on the wicker before we was suddenly able to breath again. Even his beast screamed at him to get away, his skin itching from the need to change and defend himself.

Eventually, he made it the short distance to the sliding door in his kitchen and closed it with more force than necessary before looking back. He saw a black spec of a bat flying off in the distance. What? So they had tricks and could turn into bats. Rowan took in deep, gasping breaths, a hand braced on the side of window as he watched the spec before smaller and smaller.

He was still on edge. Still wondering what he did to even deserve a vampire's attention.
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