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World of Darkness: Attrition - A New Way [Complete]


z-August Turner

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August was red when Declan finished talking. It was a pleased blush; she was happy at his words. She liked having a friend like Declan. That gentle sentiment was forgotten the second she saw the bacon-stealer on the verge of more larceny. “Stop that!”she snapped, slapping the back of his hand.

Declan pulled the offended limb back, giving her a mock glower. “I said no!” August insisted, giving him a matching scowl, even if it didn’t have the Vargr’s feral aura backing it. “Leave the bacon be or else there won’t be any for the meatloaf.”

“But I’m hungry,” Declan whined.

Fine,” August sighed, turning back to the bacon and peeling off two strips. She started them cooking and handed the fork to the MSO. “You burn it, that’s your problem.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dec said, even as he started to cook the meat.

“Heh, it’s tradition. When my aunt made this, she’d always have to cook a couple of strips for the audience… which she only had because she would cook strips for people,” August said, smiling at the memory of those meals. She dumped the cooked bacon into the meat mix and squished it all together. “She told me when I was older that it was a good way to get me to sit in the kitchen and talk to her about my day.” She put the meat into the pan and started to shape it into the loaf.

“Do you have any secret family recipes?” August asked as she started to layer the uncooked strips of bacon over the loaf. “I’d be happy to cook them for you, if you want.”

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"No secret family recipes I know about." Declan shrugged as he (using his fingers, August noted) flipped the bacon over in the pan (before licking his fingertips clean). On the surface, it was an incredibly guy thing to do, but then was it really as faintly reckless as it seemed, if he healed right up from little burns? She looked down at her own knuckles, still red and aching from the bag work earlier. They'd be hellishly sore tomorrow. Dec had said she should get used to hitting the solid bag without gloves - after all, she wouldn't be wearing gloves when she got attacked, would she? August privately mused that it was easy for him to say, Mr Heals-From-Bruises-In-Seconds there.

"My uncle used to do this venison and bacon casserole thing he learned from my mom, he said." the Vargr said after a short pause for recollection. "But I don't really remember much about how it's made. He stopped making it when I was eight." He looked sideways at her questioning look and smiled, shrugging. "We had a fight - I wanted to know about my mom and dad, and he didn't want to tell me. About all I could get outta him was that I got my momma's last name, and he was my dad's brother, not hers." Dec's eyes went back down the pan as he frowned across the years since that event, obviously replaying it in his mind's eye. "Now that I think about it, I reckon he was a little in love with my mom too. Said he looked after me for her. Didn't mention my dad in that sentence. I was such a little prick about it, though. I deserved the cuff round the ear I got that night - I even knew that at the time."

"He hit you?" August said, blue-green eyes on Declan's face. He smiled at her again and shrugged.

"I always deserved it when he did. That night, I said some godawful things about how he weren't my dad and he should tell me, runnin' my mouth so bad I expected him to smack the taste outta it. All he did was box my ear, though. Just the once. No matter how bad I acted out, that was the worst he'd do. Bop - and then he'd tell me to pick myself up and behave. That night, though, he didn't say anythin' to me for a whole day afterwards - he just went hunting without me. That's how I knew I fucked up bad." Declan shook his head. "I said sorry next time I saw him, and he said it was okay, and that was the last we talked about it. And the last time he made the casserole, too." Declan sighed slightly as he twitched the bacon out of the pan onto a plate, setting the pan in the sink. "He was a good man. Rough, but not mean. Couldn't have been easy, raising me."

"What were you like?" August smiled at the thought of a little Declan.

"Hell on two legs as soon as I learned to use 'em." Declan grinned at her. "Hyperactive, into everything, more energy than even I knew what to do with. So he'd channel it into hunting and chopping wood, chores around the cabin. He'd get me good and tired out before my lessons, so I'd sit still. Or else I'd probably never have learned to read and write."

"He sounds like a good man." August said as she slid the meatloaf into the oven and straightened up, smiling at Dec. "Somehow, it's easy to picture a pint-sized version of you running around a cabin in the woods chopping wood. What type of hunting did you do?"

"Mostly setting snares, when I was tiny." the Vargr replied. "When I got bigger, he'd take me with him once or twice a week to hunt something bigger, or to fish. He was gonna let me shoot my first deer when I was twelve... But that never happened."

"Why?" August asked, moving to the sink and washing her hands off.

"Pneumonia." Declan said shortly, his silver gaze distant. "Got into his chest bad, and finished him off in days." Talking about it brought it back, the sight of his uncle dying and knowing that it was his fault. He'd stayed by the bedside till the end, sleeping in the big chair so he'd be there if needed. Too small to walk through the winter snows to the nearest town, though he would surely have tried if the older man hadn't needed him. Too small to dig out the truck and forge a way through the snowbanks. And there was no phone there. "It wasn't the best way to go." he said softly, only half aware of his words. "But at least he forgave me."

"Why would he need to forgive you?" August demanded gently. Dec started slightly, then glanced at her before turning and washing his own greasy fingers off.

"I used to take runs." he said. "Like sleepwalking, but running naked through the woods without a care for the weather. When I was littler, it didn't matter so much. The door and window latches kept me inside. When I got bigger, I used to wake up in the hollow of a tree, or in a clearing. Blinking stupid from the sun and wondering where the fuck I was. Once I woke up in a bear's cave, though the critter had already left it for the spring, lucky for me." August was staring at him and Dec shrugged sheepishly. "Guess the wolf wanted to roam even before it was awake." he said with a wry smile.

"Anyway, so it got so my uncle would set bells on the doors and be up and after me before I could get far. I'd fight and bite, even in my sleep, but he never held that against me. That year though... I'd gotten bigger, and faster, and he couldn't catch me up as quick." Declan dried his hands off sadly, looking out the kitchen window. "He had to track me for an hour or two through a fuckin' storm, and it was too much for him by the time he found me and carried me home. Mebbe he didn't wrap up right in his hurry. Still... It's a helluva thing I did."

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What did someone say to that? August hadn’t a clue, beyond the usual platitudes. They didn’t seem appropriate somehow, not with the silver-eyed MSO staring at her. Of course, the fact that she was having this conversation in his kitchen while cooking him meatloaf only added to the surreal nature of their talk.

August had never really been good with words, so she just walked up to Declan and put her arms around him. He started again, as if surprised she’d touched him. August just squeezed him close, her hands finding very sexy handholds in the swells of muscle on his back. After a moment, his arms closed around her shoulders, pulling her close. She felt his head drop onto hers; his warm breath shifted her dark hair.

In his arms, she found some words, and they weren’t even about the tingles of anticipation running over her skin. While her brain had issued the memo about being friends, some parts of her clearly hadn’t read it. She pressed her cheek to his shirt and tried not to think about how masculine he smelled. “That sucks,” she said softly, thinking about her own change in parentage. Hers hadn’t dumped her in an uncaring foster system, though. She’d been lucky enough to have her aunts and uncle there for her.

“Worse for him,” Dec grunted.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck for you, too,” August replied. She eased back from Declan and the wolf-in-man’s-clothing let her go, his hands sliding over her reluctantly as she stepped away. “Besides, you were a kid, and you didn’t know.” She was falling into the trap she’d tried to avoid; platitudes. “Also, it’s like a rule that kids have to be shitty to their parents, and doubly so for adoptive and foster parents. I threw the ‘you’re not my mom’ in my aunt’s face once.”

“What’d she do?” Dec asked.

“She didn’t box me, that’s for sure,” August said, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “She just… reminded me where my mom was. In that, you should be grateful I’m not your mom way.” The question was on Dec’s face, so she saved him the asking. “While my dad snapped, my mom broke. She’s in Laurel Park. That’s a long-term mental hospital. She’s been there since I was ten. My aunt Molly took me in after Mom was committed. I had other relatives too, but Aunt Molly didn’t have any kids of her own and I became her surrogate daughter.”

“Was she nice?” Dec questioned, his silver eyes interested as she checked on the potatoes before leaning against the counter.

“Yeah. Overwhelmed, though,” August sighed. “I wasn’t an easy kid. I was grieving my sister and super-pissed that my mom was flaking out on me. Then there was the ghost stuff. She made sure I got therapy, that I was feed and had clothing and a place to sleep. She just hadn’t planned on being a mom, ya know? She did her best, and I’m glad she did. Otherwise, Aunt Tracy and her husband would have taken me, and they already had two kids. Georgie, my cousin, was close enough in age and looks a little like me… it would have been like having a reminder of Tyla around all the time.” She wondered if she were boring him, but he still looked interested. “Also, I would have had to share a bedroom, and I’m not sure that would have worked without one of us killing the other.”

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"Family's strange." Declan said with a pensive expression. "I found out right after my Change that I still have one. Still tryin' to decide what to do about that." He leaned against the counter again, silver eyes on the floor thoughtfully for a moment before they flicked up to regard her. He took a breath as he considered telling her more. After all, she didn't seem inclined to run to Animal Control and tell them to get a SWAT team round to his house... But the family was a big secret. August watched him as he pondered something, then he shrugged one shoulder. "They're like me. Well, not all of them, but yeah... It's in the gene pool. They look in on me once in awhile and invite me to the ol' homestead for Thanksgivin'... But I'm not sure how I feel about them."

"Why not?" August asked quietly, trying not to imagine what Thanksgiving with a family of werewolves was like. A rogue thought popped into her head. "Ma, I'm bringing home a girl for Thanksgiving!" "That's great - you know how Uncle Elmer hates turkey!" It was funny in a terrifying way, even as she felt guilty for assuming that they ate people at all. After all, Dec hadn't eaten her.

Yet. supplied the treacherous hindbrain, even as another department chimed in with Maybe I should drizzle myself with something. She ignored both voices studiously and checked the timer before looking at Declan. Humor did seem to be the best way for her inner self to deal with being in a kitchen with an MSO. Laugh or scream, perhaps. "Don't you want to meet them?" she asked him.

"Well, yeah I guess." he admitted with another shrug. "But I think a part of me is sore that they weren't there earlier, when maybe I needed them more. And... well, I don't know what to expect." He shifted his feet, a little embarrassed. "My cousin tells me I'd be made welcome right away, but the only time I've been made welcome in my life is when you invited me to that party, which wasn't a family atmosphere." He grinned wolfishly (he rarely grinned any other way), and August smiled back, coloring as she remembered the highlights of that night. Dec sobered a little as he continued. "I'm not sure how I'd deal with uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins all happy to see me. Part of me wants to see what it's like, and part of me's scared I'll do something dumb like start cryin'."

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“That’s not dumb.” August’s words were quick and a touch harsh. “Dec, family’s really important. It’s okay to get emotional about it,” she said, her voice softening. “I know how important – they kept me out of the foster care system. So it’s alright to feel overwhelmed, or even to cry.”

Declan didn’t look convinced, and August rolled her eyes. “I know you’re all ‘me biggum werewolf, me no baby-bawl’ but it’s nothing terrible. So you have emotions! That’s a good thing. Feeling things is good. Even if what you’re feeling is sometimes bad.” August lightly elbowed him in the ribs, earning a grunt from him. She was smiling as she said, “But the conversation has gotten a bit down, and I like to see you smile. So… got a deck of cards?”

Declan quirked an eyebrow, his silver eyes filled with curiosity. “Gonna do tricks to cheer me up?”

“No, we have some time before dinner and while we wait, I’m gonna whup your ass at poker,” August promised, her smirk turning to one of challenge.

“You think,” the Vargr immediately replied, reacting to that dare as only an alpha male could. But it had brought a smile to his handsome face, making August feel a bit giddy.

He was still smiling as he turned to get the cards, only to have August add in a mutter he didn’t think he was supposed to hear, “Besides, if I’m gonna do tricks to cheer you up, I’d like them to be naked tricks.”

Woof, Dec thought but managed to convince his libido to get the deck of cards instead of getting naked. When he’d returned, August was counting out two piles of peanuts, an empty Planters can next to her elbow. “Our stakes,” she explained before he could ask.

“Aww, no strip poker?” Dec asked as his libido scored a solid hit before he even saw it coming. Fuck it, I wanted to say it anyway.

August blushed as she looked down at her peanuts. “Uh… how about we reserve that as a peanut buy back… or another game? I, uh… losing pieces of clothing is dangerous.” And that’s why you like him.

“But fun,” Dec observed with his wolfy grin.

“Yeah, it would be.” August heard herself say, wondering what the hell she was doing leaving this open. “Alright, you can trade clothing for more peanuts, if you can convince the other person to sell them. How’s that sound?”

Declan studied her for a moment, his silver eyes roving over her face and dark hair - and a quick but unrepentant glance down at her clothing-covered breasts - before meeting her eyes. “Dangerous,” the werewolf remarked. There was a warning in his voice, but it only thrilled August deep inside, curling her toes under the table and making her stomach tighten.

“And fun?” August clarified, feeling a blush creep up her face.

“Lots of fun,” Declan assured her softly. He passed the cards across the table; their fingers brushed and August felt a shiver run up her spine. As he pulled his stakes over to his side of the table, he offered, “You can deal first.”

August smiled as she started to shuffle the cards. “Ladies go first. Just the way I like it.”

Int (to remember the rules and strategize) + Composure (to keep cool and have a poker face): 2 sux

Carver *rolls* 4d10: 8+4+2+8: 22

I figure the rolls will give us an idea of how they’re doing. :firedevil:

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Declan eyed his cards with one resigned and wary eye as August watched him, then he shrugged and folded, grinning as she let out a faint exasperated noise and raked in the pitiful pot. She'd had a low flush, dammit! She'd not yet been able to bait him into a major loss, though to be fair he hadn't managed to take much from her either. Small quantities of nuts were shuttling back and forth across the table, and both players still had their clothes on after seven hands.

"Let me guess." she said, faintly accusingly. "You have magical werewolf poker powers." Declan laughed, a rare happy sound as opposed to his usual throaty chuckle.

"Frail, if I had magical poker powers I'd already have your tank top over here." he said with a sly grin. "Though poker's all about readin' the other side..."

"...And you can smell my bluffs?" August challenged, smiling as she dealt once more.

"And hear your heartbeat." Declan nodded, lifting the edge of his cards to look at them. August stopped and stared at him, which prompted him to start snickering. "Gotcha. Hearing a heartbeat is hard wearin' two legs unless yer really close. Smell's more reliable. Oh, don't look at me like that! It's not like I'm a lie detector. Instinct and better senses don't tell the whole story. It's like the polygraph machines - they need a trained dude at the controls, someone who knows what it means." August was half-glowering, but Dec's smile was unrepentant.

"I'm so going to get you for that." she said as she tossed a couple of nuts into the center. "So what can you tell right now?" Curiousity prompted that question, and she wondered if he was aware of how she felt something inside her turn liquid when he looked up at her from his cards, silver eyes gleaming through his shaggy hair. Dec's slow grin brought a blush to her face. "Nevermind!" she told him.

"Raising." Declan said laconically as he tossed five nuts into the middle. "It's mostly basic, strongly-felt stuff. I can tell when someone's nervous, or afraid. Anger, pain, sadness, whether someone's sick or pregnant, turned on or drugged. Anything that changes yer body chemistry, basically. It ain't foolproof, and it's not a patch on my sense of smell on four legs." He considered his cards again as August raised, then squinted at her before matching her bet. "The sense of smell was the biggest change in the sense department, but the others got an overhaul too. And it's like the command center for 'em all is workin' better. I guess that matches the weird way animals just seem to know stuff, and we call it instinct or intuition. I've got a buttload of that."

1d10=2, 1d10=5, 1d10=4, 1d10=10

poppin' 10...

1d10=8

Evil Vargr senses to read August ;) Wits + Empathy + 2 for enhanced senses

1d10=8, 1d10=3, 1d10=6, 1d10=9, 1d10=8, 1d10=3

+ 1 dice with smell (Hound's Honor)

1d10=10

poppin' 10

1d10=7

4 succs with smell, 3 succs with all other senses. It's just an indicator of his rough accuracy in reading her tells.

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“You have a buttload of something, all right,” August muttered after she was done staring at Declan for a moment.

“You doubt me?” the werewolf asked, tilting his head so he could peer at her through his hair. He did it on purpose, August thought darkly. He knew that maneuver made him look charmingly disheveled and caused issues for her. Those issues weren’t entirely unpleasant, but they were distracting. It was totally unfair of him and he was effectively cheating.

Maybe she should cheat back.

If his perceptions were based on alterations to her baseline, then maybe she could screw up his reading. She couldn’t alter her baseline, but she could overload it with other sensation. August bit her lip as she considered her hand. For a long moment, she hummed softly and folded. “Deal the next hand. I need to check the meatloaf,” August said, standing and stretching. She felt a little stiff and sensed it would be worse tomorrow. She felt rather than saw Dec’s eyes on her body as she raised her arms over her head; air passed over the sliver of bare skin under the hem of her shirt.

Turning, she opened the over and bent over, trying not to be obvious about it but sure that Dec enjoying the show. After checking the food, she straightened and shut the oven, saying, “Time to start the potatoes.” She set them to boil and took her seat again, picking up her cards. Not a good hand, but she matched Dec’s starting bid of two nuts.

“How much longer?” he asked, smiling at her. “It’s starting to smell good.”

“Not long,” August assured him, discarding a couple of cards and replacing them. Her green eyes flicked up to him, her eyes settling on his lips. She imagined them pressing to her throat, soft and warm, while his stubble pricked her skin. The girl felt a flush start to stain her cheeks, but she didn’t relent. He tapped his fingers on the table and August wondered what it would feel like to have those strong fingers press into her skin, into her. The air felt heated and her skin tingled; August resisted the urge to clear her throat as she pressed her legs together. It was a little too easy to get aroused around him.

“Your turn,” Dec said, looking up from his cards – and blinking a little as he took a good look at her.

He’d raised and August considered her cards, nibbling in her thumbnail as she thought. Unfortunately, her thoughts were having trouble staying on the game now. Stupid hot werewolf, she grumbled to herself. “Folding.” She dropped her cards on the deck, then claimed his hand and the discards to shuffle again. She eyed his pile of peanuts, which was a little bigger than hers now. The thought that she might have to choose between conceding the game or trading in her clothing for stakes sent a spark of heat down her spine to her groin. August licked her lips, quickly shuffled and checked her hand, stifling a groan. Don’t think about the cards! Think about his abs, about his tongue licking your skin and about the taste of his skin!

If this didn’t work, she was going to be horny as hell and half-naked. Please work… please work…

Int + Composure to play: 1 sux

Carver *rolls* 4d10: 9+3+4+7

Manipulation + Persuasion to distract Dec: 2 sux

Carver *rolls* 5d10: 2+8+6+3+8: 27

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Horny as hell and half-naked was, in fact, what the MSO was aiming for, as August didn't need anyone to tell her. Declan's senses picked up the spike in August's arousal and sent those signals right to his body and brain, causing his own desire to peak sharply. Oh yeah, she wants me... he thought to himself as he watched the way she licked her lips, hearing the slightly deeper intake of breath as her eyes met his across the table and scenting her strong pheromones drifting on the air. The fact that August did, in fact, want Dec was a convenient assistance to her 'deception' as she allowed her thoughts to dwell on, for instance, what it would feel like to have nothing between their skins except sweat.

It was dangerously easy to think things like that around the Vargr, once you were confident he wasn't an actual physical danger to you. When it was plain that the barely-contained ferocity she could feel radiating from him like body heat wasn't an impending threat, the mind started to dwell on what other channels could be found for All. That. Energy.

Declan wasn't having it any easier. Of course, part of that was just because he was male and August was hot. About the only thing that had been restraining him at all was that she was a friend and they were hanging out together, which was at best a losing battle. He liked the way her shorts hugged her backside when she'd bent over in front of the oven. He liked the way the pulse jumped in her throat when their hands brushed. He liked the way her scent filled the air here, in his den, smelling of his soap and shampoo over the basic scent of Female. He wanted to stay friendly with her, but he also wanted her. Trying to steer his primal instincts with the few pounds of gray matter in his skull was like trying to steer a Ferrari with reins - possible, but the equipment wasn't able to do the job very efficiently.

And so his own body started taking matters into it's hands. Hormones began to pump with every beat of his powerful heart, sending chemical signals around his body and pheromones into the air. As August tried to block thoughts of her lousy hand with imaginings of how Dec's skin might taste under her tongue, she noticed he wasn't looking at his cards, but was instead looking right at her. His head was lowered slightly, tilted to one side but not in that teasing, playful way he used to distract her, and his silver eyes burned as he looked at her, the gaze sending flashfires of heat down her spine to her groin. She noticed him wet his own lips, an unconscious action that nevertheless drew her eye, as he slowly placed his stake into the center of the table, leaning forward a little and keeping his eyes on her. The lines of the muscles in his arm shifted with his movement, her eyes following them all the way up under the sleeve of his thin cotton t-shirt and to his shoulder.

"Over to you." he told her in a voice that sounded lower than normal, something primordial lurking behind the human words.

Int + Composure to play

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 4d10: 10+2+2+3: 17

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 1d10: 3: 3

1 success

Wits & Empathy to realise he's being distracted, senses not helping.

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 4d10: 6+7+4+7: 24

[Owns-The-Night] 12:06 am: lol

0 succs. She's got him foxed.

Smoldering at August: Presence + Predator's Bearing + Ferocity (August likes 'em dangerous!)

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 7d10: 7+10+8+10+1+7+9: 52

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 2d10: 9+9: 18

Owns-The-Night dies laughing

[envoy] 12:48 am: good roll.

6 succs. :nana:

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Resolve+Composure: 1 sux, fail

Carver *rolls* 4d10: 5+1+1+8: 15

August didn’t really have much of a chance. The way that Declan was looking at her short-circuited every decent intention she had about remaining friends. The pheromones filling the room made it hard to breathe without drawing in another dose of the mind-altering chemicals. It wasn't completely her fault; Declan was a hard man to resist when he wasn't trying; when he was, it was all she could do to stop him. It was like trying to use a barricade made of paper to stop his sexual Ferrari - and about as effective as using the reins to steer. His tongue moving over his lips tightened her groin; the silken movements of his muscles made her ache to feel their shifts first-hand. His eyes scared and entralled her; they promised danger and offered the Other in a safe package. Man-Shaped-Object or not, he was enticing.

It wasn't like she hadn't wanted him from the first moment she'd seen him. When she'd turned around to find him blatantly staring at her on the grounds, she'd wanted him to chase her down. She'd wanted him to come after her so many times; she'd almost gone after him at the party. It was starting to seem like inevitability that they'd fall into bed together, or maybe just chase each other around and around.

Maybe, she rationalized, if we cut through the sexual tension then we can just be friends after. It was the worst kind of rationalization, but August didn’t care. After that heady look and her own dumb idea, she wasn’t really thinking at all. Her cards dropped face-down on the table and she gave Dec a sultry look of her own. One side of his mouth curled up in a smile; then the smile faded when August ducked under the table.

He wasn’t sure what she was doing; when her cool hands touched his knees, the Vargr jumped at the unexpected contact. August in turned flinched in surprise – and there was a loud crack under the table. “Fuck!” she squawked.

“You okay?” Dec asked, leaning over to see her doubled over, hands pressed to the crown of her head.

“Mother fucker! That hurts!” August moaned, and not in a sexy way.

“C’mon,” Dec said softly, reaching under and drawing her out on her knees. She might have knocked the sexual mood out of herself, but he hadn’t, and the image of August kneeling before him was enticing, to say the least. “What was that about?”

August was already red, but she blushed harder. “I… uh… the plan was to… um, give you... a blow job.” Her voice dropped into a whisper at the end. "I kinda failed..."

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Must... Not... Laugh...

Resolve & Composure check

Owns-The-Night *rolls* 5d10: 7+8+2+10+8: 35

[Owns-The-Night] 5:21 pm: Whaddya know? He didn't fall off his chair laughing

Must... Not... Laugh...

Declan stared at her, feeling the corners of his mouth tremble with contained mirth. It helped that August had hurt herself, but only a little, because whilst the sight of small tears of pain in those big green eyes wasn't at all funny, pretty much everything else about the situation was... Apart from the fact she'd just tried to blow him under the table on a sudden impulse. Blowjobs were serious business, dammit. And he'd just been about to have those very kissable lips wrapped around l'il Dec - right up to when she smacked her head on his table.

Fuck! Do I try and get her to carry on? Am I retarded for even asking that question?

August's obvious embarassment, coupled with her hand cupping the top of her head, made Dec's decision somewhat easier. He crouched down and, sliding his hands under her arms to grasp her waist, lifted the slender girl easily to sit on the table. August blinked at him from under her lashes as he gently took her hands away from her head.

Damn, but she's sweet. And hot. Tell me again why we ain't asking her for a date?

Because she's had too many tough-guy assholes in her life. I don't wanna be tough-guy asshole numero-whatevero.

"Lemme have a look at that." His voice was gentle, a little amused, but warmly so as he looked down at the crown of her head, fingers lightly brushing aside her black hair. Still blushing from embarrassment, August just stared at his cotton-clad chest. "Hmm... Looks okay. Just a bump. One sec." He disappeared, coming back with a wet, cold washcloth folded into a square. "Hold this on it for a bit." he said, handing it to her and then gently helping her hand into place. As August felt the cold water seep over the bruised scalp, she became aware of Declan's work-rough fingers tenderly turning her face up to his. Was he about to kiss her? She looked up at him, feeling her heart skip slightly at the thought.

Dec examined the green-blue eyes carefully, focusing on first one, then the other, and August realised that he was checking her for a concussion.

"It's just a bump." she told him, dropping her gaze to his chest once more. Dec crouched down before her so that she was looking down into his eyes, his hands on the table either side of where she sat.

"And I just wanna be sure." he replied with that half-grin. "I'm flattered, you know."

"Sure." August grumped. "Like you never had a blow job before."

"Sure I have." he said quietly. "But not from someone like you. Somethin' tells me you're not the type of girl who just up and does stuff like that. Y'know, just jumpin' a guy under the table."

"Gee." August shot back, a trifle snarkily. "What gave me away?"

"Ain't too sure. But the absence of a hard hat, that was a big fuckin' clue." Dec said with a dazzling grin.

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“Fucker!” August laughed, slapping his arm lightly. Dec faux-cringed but he was already laughing at her, particularly since she winced again after. She looked up at him, her green eyes sorrowful as she realized that she didn’t really feel like biting into that yummy silver-eyed apple anymore. Her sorrow was mostly from her libido, but it was drowned out by the throb coming down from her crown.

“Too bad,” she sighed after a second of looking at him gloomily.

“About?” he asked, even as his gaze suggested he knew.

“It’d have been fun,” she told him, then leaned forward and dug a peanut from under her thigh. “These things hurt to sit on,” August said, then popped it into his mouth.

“If that was from my pot,” the werewolf told her gravely, “yer gonna owe me.”

“It was trying to crawl up my ass,” August said, noting the slight change in Dec’s chewing just before he swallowed. Would it work? she wondered. Could we have sex and be friends… or date? August let the thought go unanswered. She had Lucien; she wanted Lucien. She wanted Dec too, but not the same way. Lucien had been her dream for years now.

She had a sad thought: what if she waited for Lucien too long? What if she waited for him so long she ended up old and alone? I won’t, she vowed to herself. Christmas. I’ll ask Lucien then myself… and if he says no, I’ll move on. And not just no to a date. No to ME. I won’t wait forever.

“I swear, usually my attempts to administer a blow job don’t end like this,” August said, frowning at Dec. “Usually, they don’t end up with me having a headache and the object of pity.” Yeah, she was fishing for sympathy – her head hurt!

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"Well, there's always next time." Dec said with a smile. "Or we could switch around - y'know, I could go down on you while you can smack me round the head with piece of board, just t'get that authenticity." That mental image was enough to make August laugh again. She looked at the Vargr's grinning face and pictured it between her thighs - which was kinda hot - but then the image of her hitting him over the head with a flat piece of wood was enough to push the scales over into the realm of surreal comedy. The giggling felt good, though a stab of pain from her crown made her wince despite the laughter.

"Oww." she groaned, then cracked one eye open and tried to summon up a glare for her tormentor. He was unrepentant, however, simply leaning close to give her a (stubbly) kiss on the cheek. She just couldn't keep her mad on in the face of the smile/kiss dual assault. "You're impossible, you know that? Girl injured here, and all you can do is be a smartass." she told him with a forlorn smile.

"You want me to baby ya?" he asked, head tilted to one side and smirking at her. August resisted the urge to kick him in the shins - this time.

"A little sympathy wouldn't hurt." she groused, then blinked in surprise as he stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. Waarrrrrmmm, her hind-brain supplied as it noted, not for the first time, that Declan seemed to run a little hotter to the touch than other guys. Or maybe that was just her body heating up from the proximity, some kind of call of the wild. Whatever the reason, Dec's cheek was against hers as his hands gently cradled her, and she felt surprisingly safe. Which wasn't all that surprising, considering that the most dangerous creature in a ten block radius was giving her a sympathy hug.

"Sorry you bumped yer head." he said in a low voice, then pulled away slowly. "Tell ya what: you can sit down and direct operations from here, I'll finish up the cookin' and serving. How's that fer a consolation prize?"

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"That would be-" Hot. Sexy. Romantic. "-wonderful." August beamed up at the werewolf smiling down at her. "And I'll have to make it up to you next time. Hopefully without injuring myself." Dec looked at her, and August realized the possibly implication of her words. While she'd meant their next dinner, she hadn't been trying to cook when she'd bumped her head. Clearly, that was the first thing that had gone through Dec's mind - it should have been the first through her mind, before she'd said anything. "Do you like brown... fuck, uh no, you don't... Steak?"

"Love it," he assured her with a grin, stepping back as she eased off the table. He kept a hand on her arm to make sure that she had her balance, but once he was sure she did, he let go. "You have a family steak recipe?"

"No, but I thought you could come over and I could cook on our grill," August offered, still pressing the compress to her head. Her arm was getting tired, so she shifted. "We have a massive-" A buzzer going off sounded and August said, "That's the meatloaf. You need to take it out."

"Yes'am," Dec said and moved to the stove. August directed him through checking the food. It was done and she had him drain the potatoes and mash them with butter, milk and garlic salt. The salad was as easy as pulling the bag open, putting it in a serving bowl and slathering the included dressing over the top. The gravy was a bit harder, but Dec was patient through the thickening process, stirring constantly to keep it from burning. It would be worth it, and the appreciative sniffs he was giving everything suggested he agreed.

"You take orders really well," August teasingly observed from her chair as he brought the finished food over and grabbed some plates and silverware. Her mind considered where else that might be useful before she clubbed it into silence. "Well-trained?"

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His initial response to the teasing was a rude noise, then he grinned. "You can thank our Uncle Sam for that." He mimicked his old drill sergeant. "'Son, there's three ways to do things. There's the right way, and the wrong way. And then there's the Army way, which for you is the Word of God.'" He cocked an eyebrow at August and smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I hated takin' orders. Always have. But it keeps you outta trouble when you're in barracks and alive when yer in the shit, so I adapted. Besides, I liked the Army. They were good to me, brought my readin' and numbers skills up, put me forward for non-com school. Then... well, I Changed. And the Army'll tolerate a lot for a good troop, but there's limits."

"I'm sorry." August said quietly as she watched his eyes rest on the table for a moment. Dec looked up at her and shrugged.

"Life is what it is." he said. "I ain't gonna pretend it doesn't piss me off a little that I had to take a fall and get sectioned, but it's better than being in a lab because I told my CO I'm a werewolf." He shrugged again and dished up, serving August with a generous helping of everything and himself with the meat and potatoes. Not a salad man... shaped-object, she noted, not really surprised. Still, she couldn't pass up the chance to razz him a little.

"Not into the green leafy stuff?" she asked with a smile as Dec grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. He grinned lopsidedly as he sat back down, shaking his head.

"It don't sit too well on the stomach if I need to shift... But I guess a little bit don't hurt." he added, using the tongs to serve himself some salad before forking up some meatloaf. August watched his face as he took a bite, and wasn't disappointed. So that's what a happy Declan looks like she thought to herself as the silver eyes lit up. He blinked and pointed at his plate with the fork.

"Hey, this is good fuckin' meatloaf!"

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“Told ya!” August said with a big grin. “It’s the bacon – there is no substitute for fat when it comes to tasting good.” Declan snorted with amusement but wasted no more time talking when he could be eating. Silence descended over the table as the two focused on eating.

It took a while, but forks and knives were set aside and Declan leaned back, his jeans almost groaning. Though they had made enough food to keep August in leftovers for a week, there was only about two inches of loaf left now. The potatoes were a sad lump in the bottom of the pan; the salad was the only thing that had any volume left to it. “Wow,” August said, her eyebrows arching high as she contemplated the damage he’d done. “You are a growing werewolf.”

Dec snorted. “We have a high metabolism,” he replied, not sounding even a little defensive. He stifled a belch, mumbled an apology and started to clear the dishes. “How’s yer head?”

“Oh, fine,” August said. Eating had helped a lot, mostly as a distraction. “Don’t really even feel it right now.” Maybe we could pick up where we were just before I bonked my head.

No! Bad girl! He’s a friend and wants to stay one. No more bad thoughts.

“So… uh… what now, Dec?”

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  • 2 months later...

"Well..." August was treated to the rare sight of Declan at a loss as he finished clearing the dishes away. So what now? Good question. We trained, talked, shopped, watched a movie, cooked and ate dinner together. And let's not forget the hottest game of cards I've played in ever. This has been pretty much a perfect... date? Crap. What else do you call it when two people who want to jump each other's bones spend good times together? He rinsed the plates off in the sink and placed the leftovers in the fridge as his brain worked, then grinned ruefully over at August as he sat back down at the table.

"Damned if I know." he said with a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck and glancing at the clock. "It's getting late, so I could walk ya home... if you like? I like to take a little wander around anyways at night, make sure the area's peaceful. It's, uh, a four-legged thing I guess. Territoriality, and all that." He paused, watching her eyes and face. At least she wasn't flinching or tensing when he mentioned being a werewolf, however obliquely. Did that mean there was a chance for something more there? Would she deal, could she deal with what he was?

Could anyone, that wasn't? He thought about the blonde wolf-girl at the party again. She would understand... but how much? What if she was a moon-caller? Vargr were rare. Most werewolves he met would be Uratha, that was simply numbers.

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  • 2 weeks later...

August smiled at his offer. “Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, fighting the urge for her smile to become shy. This wasn’t a date, for god’s sake – he was just being polite. No, more than that; he was being considerate and safe. “Just let me get my things real quick and we can do that. Just as long as you aren’t going to make me run it.”

Her grin at her jest slipped a little when he pondered, “Well… it would be good practice…” He chuckled at the look on her face and said, “Naw, save it for tomorrow’s training.”

I bet you will, too, August sighed to herself but didn’t say. No point in encouraging him or anything. “I’ll be ready in a minute.” She ducked into the bathroom and collected her clothing, then did a quick check to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. When she came out, Dec was leaning near the door, keys dangling from his hand. Once he’d let her out, he locked the door and they settled into a comfortable pace.

The warm LA night wrapped itself around them. There were few people around – the students weren’t back yet and Dec lived on a quiet street when you removed UCLA attendees. It was also quiet, which August hadn’t noticed before but was starting to recognize. Dec’s territory was quieter than the rest of the city, as if even sound tiptoed around him afraid to offend. It was hard on her, to walk without companionable chatting, but Declan seemed alright with it, so she remained silent.

After a moment, she relaxed. It was oddly comfortable, in a way she hadn’t felt before with guys. It was weirdly freeing; there was no need to say anything. She could do this with Oneca, too, but no one else. And usually, Oneca had to be distracted by something to be quiet for this long. Even the traffic on Hilgard Ave was quieter and the noise of the city didn’t pick up until they reached West Sunset. As they waited for the light to change, August reached out and took his hand.

The touch brought his silver eyes to her with a slight start. “The light’s short. We have to make a run for it,” she told him lightly, leaving out the part where she wanted to grab his hand. “I don’t want to leave you behind,” she teased him with a slight grin, “or have you start chasing down a car.”

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  • 3 weeks later...

He laughed, a sudden barking sound that made August jump in her skin a little from surprise, rather than fear. Dec didn't really laugh much, the girl suddenly realised, casting her minds-eye back over their meetings and wondering if it was an MSO thing. He usually chuckled, a low throaty sound that caused subharmonic rumbles to travel down her spine. His laugh was short and somewhat brusque by comparison, as though he were unused to laughing out loud and didn't want to make too much noise. He didn't raise his voice either. The quiet thing again, she mused. He doesn't make a lot of noise, doesn't work to draw attention. She cast a sideways glance at Dec as they crossed the street. Wolf, she rolled the word around her head. He's a wolf. And I'm holding his hand and I'm safe. Feeling her gaze, silver eyes met her green ones and she smiled, glancing away again and trying to control the pleasant nervous fluttering in her stomach. His hand felt warm in hers, the rough skin of his fingers and palm rasping slightly. Not for the first time, the young student was struck by the surreality of the situation. Everything was normal on the outside: she was being walked home by a guy, holding hands. But the reality of this was...

...was not so different, she realised, and that was what made it so surreal. Because the knowledge of what Declan was changed everything about him, gave everything a new context.

For Declan, things were simpler. She'd reached out and taken his hand, and whatever coy humor she used to cover it up, he knew that a woman didn't take a guys hand unless she really wanted to. He didn't puzzle over it too much: August was into him, but hesitant because he was a werewolf. Showed she was sane, at least. In a rare moment of empathic introspection, he tried to imagine what it would feel like if she was the Vargr and he was the human. Scary, probably. Walking hand in hand with a girl who could rip your head off your shoulders and eat you wasn't most guys ideal date. He'd be hesitant too. Probably. It was getting harder to imagine what it was like to feel human. Slow and sense-blind by comparison to a Vargr.

"That's dogs." he said abruptly after five more minutes of walking, shooting August a smile. "Wolves have better sense than to chase a car. If they can't eat it, then there's no point." August laughed a little at that, squeezing his hand gently, but her sea-green eyes held a wistful curiousity as his words jogged a question loose.

"What... what's it like?" she asked quietly, biting her lip a little as he took a break from scanning the street to look at her. "Talking to them. I know that's what you were doing, up at the sanctuary. What's it like to talk to a wolf?" she ventured boldly, meeting his gaze. Dec considered for a time, his brow furrowing a little as he sought for the right words.

"It's like sharing images and emotions. I didn't have to learn it like a language: it just came with my First Change. So it's more instinctive." He grinned then. "There's one thing that stands out, though. No lies."

"No lies?" August repeated.

"Yeah. Wolves don't really need to lie to each other. Even if they could, they'd see no point in it. That goes for all lies, even the polite ones. If a wolf wants to play, they say so. If they don't like you, they tell you straight. She-wolves don't have to let the males down gently, fer instance." He grinned. "Dogs are a little different. More human, I guess. They can be deceitful, but only in a real basic sorta way. Doesn't come natural to them. Most of it is a result of them havin' to behave in acceptable ways for humans - makes them a little schizo." He paused then, thinking that over, then shrugged.

"I know the feelin'. I've been thinkin' that if I don't get outta the city and back to nature for a few days, I'll go nuts." He smiled wryly at her. "Maybe I'll spend the winter break in the woods."

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Wolves sound a lot better than people, August thought with a touch of wistfulness. People lied all the time and even if there were good reasons for lying, there was something sweet and simple about the idea that wolves spoke the truth to one another. Green eyes watched Declan for a moment, about to ask if werewolves lied, but her courage failed her and then he changed the subject.

"Yeah, I'd guess it'd get pretty tiring living in the city all the time," August said softly, "just like I'd get tired of living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere all the time. Sorry," she added with an apologetic grin, "I'm a city girl at heart. I've never lived outside of the LA area. I've been on camping trips and the like, so I know what the stars really look like, but I always welcome a return to the bright lights." She paused and then admitted in a softer voice, "Besides, in the country, with all the isolation, there's a better chance that something bad will happen, like sickness or getting trapped up there." Her fingers tightened around Declan's but she didn't seem to be aware that she was gripping him more tightly.

"But yeah, if you need to go, then definitely go," she added, shaking off her fugue and smiling up at the MSO holding her hand. How could I forget how good it feels to be touched like this? It wasn't so much forgotten as misremembered. Once she was doing it again, the feelings of comfort, affection and safety came back to her in a rush. Her thumb brushed over his knuckle once before she stopped herself. That was a little familiar, not that she hadn't already shared a sizzling kiss with him in her bedroom. But... if she wasn't sure she wanted him in exactly that way, then it wasn't fair to do that to him. The sure knowledge that he liked her to touch him was the only reason she kept his hand in hers.

Well... not the only reason. She liked to touch him too.

"Do you have a place out there, or do you just... hang out in the woods?" she asked softly as they turned onto Copa De Oro Road. They were almost to her house now.

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"I just... hang out." he replied, teasing a little as he mimicked her pause, grinning at her. August swatted his arm lightly with her free hand and resisted the urge to lean against him. "If I go far enough, there's plenty of game, and it's not like I need a tent." He went thoughtful for a moment. "Have a cabin, but it's in Montana. My uncle left it to me, but I never had the cash or time to do anything with the land. Been meaning to go up there and check it out one of these days." he said with a sly smile, nudging her. "Was going to head up there when I thought everything had gone to hell... But I'm glad I stayed."

The large house loomed up on their left and Dec stopped at the driveway, looking at Oneca's place then smiling resignedly at August. "Guess we're here." he said softly, silver eyes glimmering as they searched her face. Behind him, August could see a few lights on and hear music playing: 'Neca and Aradia were likely here, along with that Kaitlin kid. Normal, sane real life... mostly. No werewolves who were also hot guys, just friends who'd likely pounce on her and demand details if she happened to mention having dinner with Dec. All she had to do was let his hand slip out of hers and say "goodnight".

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"I'm glad you stayed, too," August said, turning to face him. Her expression grew serious. "Hunting you down would have been very expensive and time-consuming, two things I really don't have much to spare."

"Hunt me?" he asked and she wasn't sure if he was offended.

"Well, hire a private eye to find you. Maybe a werewolf one, given that you'd probably go off the grid and make things really hard for me." She patted him on the chest, grinning now. "Yeah, better that you stayed, definitely."

"You would have gone lookin' for me?"

"Hell yes," August told him. Though she was still smiling, he could tell she meant it. "You don't let friends like you just walk away, especially if they're walking away because of you.

"Thanks," she added. "For tonight, for walking me home, for the training... for everything." She smiled, the expression oddly shy. "I know I keep thanking you, but you seem to do so much for me." August's fingers tightened around his before releasing. "Thank you," she murmured, her green eyes intense. She knew what she wanted to do and she forced herself to do it before she lost her courage.

Her other hand joined her first on his chest and she rose on her tiptoes, her lips pursing slightly as she headed for his cheek. That was safe, just a quick peck on the cheek, right?

What really happened was all Declan's fault. It wasn't August's - she'd been aiming for his cheek. But as she rose on her toes, he turned his face toward hers, his silver eyes widening as their lips touched. There was a half-second of frozen shock; then the fire that always smoldered between them flared to life. For a moment, they were looking into each others' wide eyes and then their eyes closed as they were swept away by the desires of their flesh.

August made soft, hungry noises that she couldn't seem to stop as her fingers slipped into his hair and tangled in the thick strands. His arms closed around her waist and pulled her tight; her body clenched with need as he kissed her ardently, his big hands splayed over her back. That kiss broke and was followed by another as he lifted her and her legs wrapped around his hips. My room, my room, my room now, was August's desperate thought, but kissing him was much more important than talking about what was happening. There was no more thought; they'd stepped over the crevice and were falling down the rabbit hole-

"August is that- Oh, whoops!" Oneca's interruption came not a second too late to save their intentions to remain friends. Her friend's voice snapped August out of the moment and she pulled back. Declan set her down, then steadied her when her stupid knees wouldn't hold her. "Don't let me stop you... you're letting it stop you, aren't you?" the black-hair beauty sighed as August tugged her shirt back into place.

"Uh, sorry, thanks... damn it... Night, Dec," she muttered, her face red. He looked just as embarrassed or upset or something; August wasn't sure and it wasn't like she could smell what was going on with him.

"If you're not going to finish that kiss," Oneca said, grinning, "can I?"

August stomped down the surge of jealousy. "Sure, if you want," she said, her green eyes snapping with anger as she glanced at Dec. "I... I'll see you Monday, right?"

"Monday," he muttered. "Keep up those exercises until then."

"Yeah, I know, every day... See you Dec." With that, she scurried toward the house. After a second and a quick apology, Oneca followed; the werewolf could hear her asking August what that was all about.

Hell of a way to end a training session.

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Silver eyes blazed hungrily as they followed August to her door, their owner standing motionless but for the faint stirring of the wind in his hair. He could feel his blood still simmering in his veins, the thud of his pulse in his ears. He hadn't meant to kiss her - he'd been looking at the house when she went to peck his cheek and the sudden movement had made him turn... Not that he was complaining.

He could still feel her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist as though she couldn't draw him close enough. Her kiss had been the same: urgent, demanding... animal. Definitely animal, Dec mused. For that long, searing moment there was no baggage between them, no wolf-shaped elephant in the room, no fears or hesitation. All they'd known was that this was right. Maybe not right forever, but right now. His hands tingled, remembering the heated feel of her skin over taut muscles as she'd clung to him with that fierce strength.

The tip of his tongue ran over his lips, tasting her there as he turned, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking back down the street. Her scent clung to him like a mist, calling him back to her. He could go back, he told himself. He could knock on her door, and when she answered he could kiss her without saying anything. He could batter down the wall between them. I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down... he thought whimsically, remembering the fairy tale. And he laughed.

Owns-The-Night was an uncomplicated soul. August wanted him, but she wasn't sure of that yet. She had all sorts of reasons for holding back, he was sure. Some of them might even be to do with his nature. But those were window-dressing, really. Deep down she was drawn to him, wanted him on an instinctive level. He could feel that, smell that every time they were together. He was a Vargr, though, and whether hunt for meat or other, less tangible prey a wolf was, above all things, patient. Even if his blood was singing in his veins every time the woman was near.

Whistling, he headed home.

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