everybody hurts

bianca crowe

[hungryxyes-blog]

"— get that thing out of my face.”

[biancacrowe]

"I'm sorry. Just didn' want you to starve is all. Ain't much food left after the pack started feedin'."

[biancacrowe]

bianca crowe | moodboard [1/?]

[fillemortex]

                    “Den?” 

            [ Oh, never mind. She doesn’t need to know. But oh does her  heart beat. Curious kitten she is when her mind decides it. She’s mostly like a fox, probably because she grew with them and still is, but she’s like other animals too. Feral little thing. Guess she was just fated to be a little more than something singular. Everything at once. 

Hesitation is expected just as much as the polar opposite. But people have grown to be such desperate creatures, in a way they are almost as feral as her. They wouldn’t have much more thought about Romy’s silly offerings. They could have taken it it, and than some. They were have asked for more. They might have hurt the little foxfaced, killed her. Because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter if you are the lion that eats the gazelle or the gazelle itself, you’re running. Always running. Survival. How did the world make room for such strangers girls? They seem to kind.  ]

         ”Alright.. I’ll leave the rest for you than. Don’t plan on coming back. It’d take too many trips for me to get all of it back.. “ 

[ Really, that probably worked better anyways. For all Romy knew, this girl lived a minute away from where the elk is. Or at least closer. She stands now. Five feet tall, but tall neither the less. Crimson bears her, her knife close in her palm. ]

        “…Do you know any good stories?”

[biancacrowe]

[ Hearing the girl's question about the den cause Bianca to start nodding slowly, partly in hesitation about whether she should be disclosing such information to somebody who wasn't already in the know, partly due to the fear of the unknown that still coursed through the blonde's body at the mere sight of the girl in front of her. Figuring that it couldn't really hurt to tell the girl anything - most of the people in the city already knew of the gangs anyway, Bianca stared slightly above the girl's head as she began talking. ]

"Yeah, the Den. It's where I've been livin' since bein' accepted as a member of tha Wolves, y'know? It ain't really like where I used to live, it's bigger, got more freedom back at tha den than I had before, ain't like I really need freedom, though. I'd be happy just stayin' at my dig cookin' for the whole day if I could."

[ Hearing the next words that came from the other girl in the vicinity caused a small genuine smile to cross Bianca's features. She felt somewhat comforted by the words, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like someone, somewhere, was looking over her and blessing her for a moment longer of life in the hell-forsaken city that was the fringe. It was odd, when she considered it, that she was so relieved to still be living when little less than a year ago - hell, little more than a month ago - she was so desperate to be taken from the planet in almost any way possible. It just showed how fickle life was, how one event could make somebody so desperate to die yet another completely unwanted event reversed some of that mentality. ]

"Thank you. I'll be leavin' it a bit when I get back to the pack, gotta give you enough time to get far enough away. I'd be hatin' myself if I found you got hurt because the pack thought you were stealin' from 'em when it was your kill firs'."

[ The smile that was adorning her features remained fixed to her face as she spoke,  acting as yet another way to show both her thanks and relief that she'd be allowed to leave the meeting with her life and with a bonus of food for the pack. It was odd, meeting another person so kind-hearted in the fringe, regardless of the fact that she'd come across the girl whilst an animals still warm, beating heart was pumping blood onto her hands and down her throat. Hearing the girl asking about stories, Bianca began shaking her head. Stories had never really been her forté, she'd never really heard all that many as a child when too much dismay had taken over the lives of the family. ]

"I ain't all that good at stories. Ain't really ever been told any. What about you? D'you know any stories?"

[roryshaw-blog]

Right ‘n’ on three I wan’ ye to jump. I’ma pull ye up.

[ Her hand was dainty and small in Patch’s calloused hand which he used to hold her in a firm grasp. As she jumped, he guided her up and with his free hand he caught her under the arm and half lifted and half swung her onto the bin.  He didn’t let go straight away. He waited until she was steady on her feet first and then he released her, an excited grin across his puppy-like features. Patch pointed a finger at the side of the building, indicating to a set of ladders that were bolted into the brick. If he were alone he wouldn’t have bothered with the ladders but with Blondie being with him he didn’t want to risk her falling to her death. He didn’t want that guilt on his shoulders.]

See tha’ ladder, yeah? We’re gon’ get over to tha’. Once we’re on the tops it’ll be an easy run. I’m an expert, no need to look so terrified.

[ The unruly blonde lad flashed another grin and turned to the wall. There was a notch cut into it at about thigh height. He shoved the toes of his foot into it and used it as leverage to bounce onto a window balcony that was above and slightly to the right. He caught onto it and swung up onto it with an elegance known to the Wolves. Then, like before, he waited for her to follow his lead and he held a hand down for the girl so that he could help her up to the next level. Everything on ground level was getting smaller and smaller now. That was how the wolf boy liked it. He liked to feel bigger than it and he liked the free feeling of being high in the air like a bird.

Just the other side of the balcony was the set of ladders. They’d have to step off the ladder and onto it but it wasn’t even half a foot away from it. Once the girl was over the ledge and steady again, Patch walked over to the other side and stabbed a thumb in the direction of the ladder. ]

You go firs’, blondie. I’ll help ye over so’s ye don’t go fallin’ or nothin’.

[biancacrowe]

[ Hearing the words that came from Patch’s mouth did little to reassure Bianca’s nerves for the current situation. No, it was only the fact that the bin wasn’t overly high off the ground that properly convinced her to do as the witch doctor said. Well, that and the reassuring lilt to his voice that told her, against her mind’s complaints to it, that he could be trusted with the task of helping her onto the bin. Nodding her head somewhat uncertainly, Bianca prepared herself for the jump that would get her to the other wolf’s level.

A crash echoed around the alleyway as Bianca jumped, her lower legs hammering into the thick rusted metal that made up the grime covered surface of the bin before Patch had a chance to fully heft her up onto the lid. He kept a firm calloused grip on her until she was standingcomfortably without the aid of the other wolf despite the winces that regularly corrupted the usually innocent features of the blonde’s face because of the aching pang that shot from her legs.

As she properly gathered herself and took note of her surroundings, her gaze fell back onto her fellow wolf. The excited grin that had transformed the witch doctor’s face - one that would’ve sent sparks of adrenaline down every other wolf’s spine at the mere sight of it - caused a dark pit of dread to settle in the girl’s stomach. She knew that most wolves would only grin like that in the event of doing something dangerous or stupid - often it was a mixture of both, something that absolutely terrified Bianca at that moment. She wasn’t like the other wolves. She wasn’t brave. She wasn’t as athletic or graceful as them. She was a cook for a reason; it was the only thing that she was good at.

Watching the way that his grin only widened as he went to traverse the notches in the wall up to a nearby balcony did nothing to calm her. Spark her determination? Yes. Calm her? Absolutely not. It terrified her. Once he’d safely reached the balcony, Bianca took in a deep breath and began muttering to herself, trying to fire herself up to rid herself of the lingering fear, before she herself set off to attempt to do the same thing, reaching out for the experienced wolf’s hand as soon as she was in reaching distance.

As soon as she reached the somewhat secure floor of the balcony, Bianca sucked in another deep breath of air as she attempted to hold back the grinthat adrenaline was trying to force onto her face. She could feel it flooding her body, invading her cells, preparing her for what was to come.

Seeing Patch point off to the ladders slightly away from the edge of the balcony, Bianca nodded slightly and hesitantly made her way towards them. She had to go first. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was the only thing making her continue on forwards, was the only thing - other than Patch - that encouraged her to stick out her foot to reach for the ladder before swinging the rest of her body around to join it once she’d got a comfortable stance on the thin metal. ]

We jus’ climbin’ to the top, right? Ain’t anythin’ else I gotta navigate ‘round first?

[biancacrowe]

BROKEN - a Bianca Crowe playlist

| 1. Don't You Worry Child - Swedish House Mafia | | 2. Stronger - Kelly Clarkson | | 3. Shake It Out - Florence and the Machine | | 4. Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses | | 5. Everybody Hurts - R.E.M. | | 6. By The Grace Of God - Katy Perry | | 7. Loser - 3 Doors Down | | 8. Youth Of The Nation - P.O.D. | | 9. Fade To Black - Metallica | | 10. Bullet - Hollywood Undead | | 11. Don't Try Suicide - Queen |

[ LISTEN ]

[nursewallace-blog]

[ If rain could kill it was aiming for Ethan, cool drops pouring down his cheeks and pelting at him like bullets from gun. He’d lost track of where he’d gotten to, the streets of the Fringe all nameless and shapeless to him —  a night like this made this place even more terrifying. Everything terrified him though and it was obvious a man in his state should not be out in the pouring rain when everyone was safe and sound in their beds, when the wilder ones came out to play and to hunt and people like him just got in the way. He stumbled this way and that, slipping on puddles, vision blurred with the clear drops clinging on rigidly to his eyelashes. The world spun around him and he could feel an incredible sense of falling, his stomach flipping over as he plummeted despite his feet planted firmly on the ground. He always felt this way after; his anger cooling down into something more desperate, something cold where he had been previously so fired up.

He tried so hard to control it but moods and behaviours came so indiscriminately that even he couldn’t keep up. Every move from him was unpredictable and he knew people grew tired of it. Truthfully, he wore even himself out, his moods jumping from one end of the spectrum to another so frequently that no one bothered to calm him down anymore, they just let him tire himself out with his rampages or his hyperactivity. He didn’t blame them. He would not bother with a boy like him either.

He could hear sounds all around him but the streets were empty, wandering around in one of the quieter parts of the fringe, he threw himself down on the ground, back against the wall as he tried to orientate just where in the world he had found himself. Even with the anger subsiding to slumber in the back of his mind, Ethan couldn’t seem to calm himself down no matter how hard he tried. Techniques had come and gone, medicines and calmers all wasted on him. He hated it, the cold unpredictability of his mind, the lack of control — how was he to protect his family when he could barely retrain his own actions? ] "Stupid, stupid, stupid.” [ He mumbled, palm hitting against his forehead with each word. He knew what it meant more than anything to hate oneself. Staring out into the rain, he counted down from one hundred, hopelessly praying his hands might stop shaking, or perhaps he would escape the urge to hurt, break, smash something. ]

[biancacrowe]

[ The heavens had opened as she was on her way back to the den, her bairn cradled within the comforts of her arms as the young blonde wolf ran down the streets, hoping to get back to the Den before she got any more soaked than she already was. Her blonde hair was plastered to her flushed and heavily breathing face as she attempted to run, attempted to keep her balance so as not to harm the baby in her arms.

Feeling her breaths coming in at a heavy, burning pant, Bianca allowed herself to fall to the floor to regain her breath, leaning back against the crumbling wall that lined the path. Shrugging off the patchwork coat she was wearing, she wrapped it protectively around her baby, hoping to save it from the cold hard fury of the elements that attempted to destroy anything that it could get its grip on. Her baby would be one of those things and so protecting it from the elements was at the top of Bianca's priorities, regardless of the fact that it'd result in her being soaked completely through and likely leave behind a bout of illness, something that she'd risk if it meant keeping her bairn healthy.

Leaning back fully against the wall behind her, Bianca closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards towards the sky, allowing it to sooth the tiredness from her joints as she took in deep breaths to try to steady her breathing. She knew she needed to get back to the den as soon as possible if she wanted to get any relief from the weather in the form of sleep before having to wake up to once more roam during the night.

With that in mind, the young blonde pulled herself back up to her feet and once more started off in a jog back towards the warehouse that was the pack's den. At least, that was until she rounded a couple more corners - left then right - when she came across a man in a similar position to what she'd just been in, slumped against a wall. Cautiously approaching him - knowing full well of the brutality of people in the fringe most of the time - she hesitantly spoke up when she reached a position a couple of metres away from him. ] 

Are you- are you okay? You shouldn' be outta your home when it's like this. It ain't safe at the besta times an' it's only worse when it starts rainin' like this.

[eleanxrmoody]

[ The thing that attracted many people to the Fringe was the one thing that terrified most of the populous in the Bureau - it was a Dangerous, with a capital “D”. The files on each of the residents of their shanty town, if you could call it a town, were emblazoned with red stamps, marking out residents to be watched. The one way to stay alive in the Fringe, was to know where you were, and to stick to your corner. Take a wrong turning and you ended up in the grips of the Wolfies, or running a mile from the Lost - god forbig you ended up near the Syndicate. No the way to stay alive was to find your place, and keep to it.

People went missing when they took the wrong turning here. It was a simple fact, and if you were on the wrong side of town, you were fair play for anyone to have fun with. And perhaps the blubbering blonde in front of Talia was easy fodder, all sweet innocence tinged with something darker. Watery blue eyes and a sniffle. ( P a t h e t i c. )

Still Talia didn’t release her, eyes narrowing as she took in the shaking figure in front of her. Quite clearly she wasn’t from around her. Sure some patrons were dodgy, and their kinks disturbing, but no one would pay for this waif, not if she blubbed over the slightest thing. So she clearly wasn’t from around here. It was a shame really, she could think of a good few people who would pay top money for someone with her shape. Nice skin too. Slightly blotchy, and her eyes were red, but she supposed that was understandable, given that Talia was holding a knife to the women’s throat - and didn’t show any signs of letting up. The Bureau weren’t wrong when they marked the residents as dangerous. They were a genetic fuck up, an experiment gone wrong. Cruelty knew no bounds in the Fringe, and the weak were eaten up

—Frankly it was a surprise that this woman was alive. She clearly couldn’t put up a fight, and most people died before their teens, yet this was not a young ingénue of sweetness and light. No this was a woman…a woman who had seen pain and heartbreak.

So really she was the easiest target in the world, and unfortunately for her, Talia had lost that little bit of humanity she had had, once upon a time. The blade tightened against the blonde’s throat, not applying quite enough pressure to cause a bleed, but enough to be more than just a little uncomfortable. In contrast to her whimpers and pleads, Talia was cold and unforgiving, her face an impassive mask of emotions, broken only slightly by the laugh at the woman’s words, cutting her off sharply ]

You’re on the wrong side of town here honey…unless you were looking into a change of profession?

[biancacrowe]

[ Seeing the way that she apparently wasn't about to be released from the harsh grip that held her pinned against the wall at knife point terrified Bianca more than initially being forced against the wall did. She was absolutely terrified and she could feel her heart hammering against her rib cage, trying to burst free from its confinement. She was certain she was about to die. She was certain that she'd die and nobody would ever find her body. The Pack would probably label her as something akin to a traitor for running, they'd teach her bairn to hate her for her 'desertion' of the pack.

It was the latter, more than anything else, that pained the young wolfling and she could feel her entire body shaking as tears began streaming from her eyes. She didn't want to be hated. She never had done but she knew that the world was full of hate, she knew that such a dream was little more than that; a dream.

The feeling of the knife digging slightly into her neck was what made Bianca realise that at that moment she was the bigger danger to her life than the other woman. She was the one who was uncontrollably shaking and thus unwillingly pressing herself further onto the cold sharpness of the blade. She could already feel the small trickles of blood drip down her neck that she knew would go on to form gushing rivers if she didn't manage to get herself under some sort of control. With that in mind, the young blonde wolf took in a few deep shuddering breaths, trying to keep her neck tilted upwards away from the blade that was holding her in the current position. She kept her gaze away from the woman's, not wanting to know what emotions - if any - would be evident within them.

As she heard the sound of laughter coming out of the woman's throat, Bianca was more than certain that she was dead. Laughter that sounded like what was coming from her assailant was something that she'd never be able to associate with anything positive. It sounded how she'd imagined nails scraping down a blackboard would sound; abrasive, cutting. It did nothing to calm her like the laughter of the pack usually did. No, it did the opposite. It put her on edge, made her panic about how much longer she'd still be on the earth as opposed to in the earth.

Hearing the woman's comment caused Bianca to instantly start shaking her head. She was almost frantic in her action despite the limited movement she allowed herself, not wanting more cuts to be decorating her neck. Taking in yet another shaking breath, a weak, pleading voice emerged from the blonde wolf's mouth. ]

Please... Please jus' let me go an' I'll never come back here again. I'll jus' find my way back to the den an' forget about this happenin'. I didn' wanna be here. I ain't gonna stay, I can't stay. I got a bairn to care for. I ain't able to change profession, I gotta be near him. Jus' let me go. Please jus' let me go.

[fillemortex]

[ Romy’s rosy petals are parted as she shaves away, each little piece she puts in a separate compartment of her bag ( right next to the ferns ). She wouldn’t want the velvet floating around the bottom. Silence envelopes the heart-eater, she merely glances back at the other. There was uneven rhythm in forest this evening. This blonde wasn’t the only one lacking knowledge in this situation, if she only know she was talking to a gang member — well, actually, there wouldn’t be much else she’d do different. It’s just that sometimes she thinks gangs are more myths than the fairytales that spun her head. ] 

         ”Medicine.” 

[ Oh warm and fuzz; the antler velvet has medicine properties, you see. It stimulates strength and endurance. It improves the immune system. It counters stress and anxiety. And promotes rapid recovery in illness and injury. Some think it does something to your sex drive, too, an aphrodisiac of sorts. But Romy wouldn’t know much about that — she’s utterly innocent when it comes to that. The poor thing’s never even been kissed before. But here is where her generosity comes to a halt. She doesn’t know if she wants to part with much of the velvet. If the blonde asked for some  though, Romy gusses she’d give a little. Just a little. ]

"Pirates and princes used to cross miles and miles to seek medicine men who had elk velvet."

[ This is mere play, really. Words spun on spot. They just make it all easier. Children understand, her stories always bring smiles upon their weary little faces. After she’s got most of the velvet — all the velvet she could get off with her knfie — she moves back to cutting into the elk. It’s only two small pieces. But it’s all she can do now. She doesn’t want to stay here too long. The blonde may see harmless, and maybe she truely was, but what if she had a father or an uncle or a friend that was vicious and would take advantage of Romy’s good nature. Romy’s a little nervous too, she just keeps herself occupied, and doesn’t show it. ]

     ”Here..”

[biancacrowe]

[ Silence had fallen between the two like a curtain being drawn as Bianca watched the girl work on the dead elk. It was almost soothing to watch, reminding her of way back when everything was better in the life, back in the butchers shop with her parents before Joyce came in and ruined everything for her. It was a time that she often wished she was able to go back to, back to when all she had to concern herself with was working the shop from time to time. It also reminded her of her current life. The one with the pack. It reminded her of how the changes she'd been forced to go through had eventually made her stronger even if the proces to get there was rocky at best.

Hearing Romy mention that she was getting medicine from the dead elk confused Bianca but she didn't query it, she didn't want to risk annoying the girl and having to face any anger that she may harbour towards her. The girl had eaten the raw, virtually still beating, heart of an animal, what was to say she wouldn't do the same to any human corpses she came across? She'd heard the horror stories that people told about cannibals roaming the streets and taking innocent children away for their latest meal. What was to say that this girl wasn't going to do the same to her?

The wolf was brought from her thoughts as the girl spoke up once again, this time apparently talking about some sort of story to do with the 'elk velvet' as the girl called it. Bianca wasn't sure whether she believed it or not but refrained from speaking, once more not wanting to anger the potential threat that the girl could prove to be. Seeing the way that she began cutting into the elk itself after finishing with the 'velvet', the blonde had presumed that she was doing it for herself, was going to put it in her bag and proceed to leave so when the girl did the opposite of that, Bianca was shocked. Snapping herself from her confusion, Bianca began shaking her head and held her hands out, hopefully not coming across as being ungrateful as she did so. ]

No, no. You ain't gotta do that. You should take it yourself. When I get to the Den I can tell the pack about the elk an' they can send out hunters for it. Unless you're plannin' on keepin' it after all. I ain't gonna tell them if you ain't wantin' me to.

[emily-kinney]

[roryshaw-blog]

[ The young Witch Doctor was Wolf through and through. There was hardly an ounce of him that would deviate from their traditions, mentality, and beliefs. Everything about them were reflected in Rory’s mannerisms, his dress, his free spirit and his no-shits-given personality. Therefore running on the roof tops to him was almost easier than running on the ground. It was faster with more places to gain leverage and different floors to overtake on. If you knew the terrain – and Rory did – you could travel miles in no time at all.

His fingers gripped the wood rimming the window of the ledge in which he stood. Like most things in the Fringe the window frame was rotting and decaying and any pain that had been protecting it had long since been peeled away. The prospect of the ledge falling away beneath him didn’t faze him in the slighted. In fact, he thought it could be fun to have to leap down before clattering with the earth. Patch’s knuckles of his hands turned white as he held himself up, his torso faced out into the street so he could look down at the teenage girl as she spoke.

The cheekiest grin around spread onto Rory’s features, teeth showing and eyes scrunching up. ]

 Ain’t many who’s so quick as me. I’ll go easy on ya, sister. Follow me lead, gotta learn sometime, am I right?

[ With that the scruffy haired, cheeky faced, lanky lad shuffled his feet across the window ledge so that he was nearer the girl and then he stepped up onto a large overturned dust bin. It was the sort size that a small Slummer family could use as a squalid if they really wanted to. Once up there he glanced around to decide to route they would take and then he reached a hand down to Blondie for her to take so that he could help pull her up. ]

[biancacrowe]

[ The way that Patch so fluidly moved as if he were little more than a river of water paving his own path to the sea - which in this case was the Den - was both daunting and beautiful to watch for the blonde. It was daunting, to think that he'd be trying to make her do the same thing that he'd just done sooner rather than later. Bianca didn't think she'd ever be able to move about the rooftops like most of the child wolves did, let alone with the grace and dexterity that the likes of Patch did.

Seeing the cheeky toothy grin that the experienced wolf gave her both reassured her and terrified her further. The fact that he had the faith in her to be able to do it, that he wanted to help her to become a better wolf than she was - as impossible as that task may turn out to be - made her want to prove him right, prove that she could do the things that he was trying to make her do. But she was certain she'd never be able to. She was terrified that he could look so perfectly calm whilst standing on a rotten wooden ledge whilst waiting for her, she was terrified that she'd end up falling to her death and leaving her bairn to face the world alone.

Any morbid thoughts passing through her mind were pushed to the side when he began speaking to her. She needed to focus on the present, she needed to ignore any 'what ifs' despite them constantly forcing themselves into her head. She needed to prove that she could do it. A hesitant nod was her answer to his question before an equally weak and hesitant voice spoke up. ]

I gotta learn, I know I gotta learn I just don't think I'm capable of bein' comfortable runnin' across rooftops, y'know? But I'm gonna try, I gotta at least give it a go if I wanna be accepted fully.

[With those thoughts running through her head she awkwardly moved over to the large dust bin that he was standing on before reaching out a dainty hand to clasp his with to help her clamber onto the top of the bin with. She was still uncomfortable with the idea - terrified, really - but it was mixed with a sense of determination that had been absent previously. She knew that if she was to learn the ways of the Pack then she'd have to once more place her trust into Patch, no matter how hesitant she may have been to do so. ]

[eleanxrmoody]

[ It’s cold in the Fringe. A sort of cold that seeps into your bones and leaves you for dead, and raids your corpse before moving on. The sort of cold that was merciless and cutting - much like the residents of of the the Fringe. How appropriate. But money was tough in the Fringe, and it was far better to eat than to be warm. Priorities were important - but Talia had her fair share of soft gloves and warm scarves that lay in the bottom of cupboards and drawers. Gifts from people that shed’d collected over the years. She never brought them out. The entire Fringe was built on instability and danger, and Talia walked close enough to the line. Brighting out those gifts and trinkets would have just been asking - no begging, for a knife in the throat. So she suffered in skimpy blouses, cut low and daring. Talia didn’t mind particularly. So long as she kept to herself, she could usually walk through the cobbled streets without fear of attack. The other prostitutes were be less lucky - it was hardly surprising when one of them turned up dead on the ground after attracting the wrong type of person but Talia?

She played her own game.

Her heels clattered off the cobbled stones as she walked, a thin shawl draped around her shoulders. She had only bothered to button up her blouse half way, and in the waistband of her trousers she kept her familiar knife, only an arms length away should she have needed to drag someone’s throat out. She could hear someone behind her - indeed she’d heard them tracking her for the past ten minutes, but she hadn’t turned around, and she’d just carried on walking. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be followed, but the people usually got bored, and skulked away. This person, whoever they were, was different. More determined.

The alley way was near her. One, two, three steps away - and she had ducked into the darkness, breathing slightly heavier as she took out the knife, no hesitation or nerves as she held the blade between her hands, allowing the follower to reach the alley, before she swung her arm out, pinning her follower to the wall, the blade pressing lightly against the hollow of their throat, her voice low but sharp, much like the blade that was in her hand ]

"Don’t you know its rude to follow people home?"

[biancacrowe]

[ Moving across rooftops was something Bianca had never expected herself to be doing, especially not ones littered with holes that could fall at any moment, but it was the exact thing that she'd been doing as she tried to navigate her way towards the marketplace. Unfortunately for her, the crumbling rooftops and ever-changing scenery as she slowly moved from one to the other did nothing but disorient her, take her to places she'd never known existed in the fringe where she didn't know her way back to either the den or the market.

As she clumsily and jerkily lowered herself down a rusting metal drainpipe, the blonde wolfling sank down to the floor and held her head in her hands. She didn't know what to do, she'd gotten lost in such an unforgiving city. She was as good as dead. She knew of the dangers of the fringe. She knew that things were safer staying in known areas. The fact she'd found herself in a street swamped with what could only be prostitutes - based on the skimpy rags hanging off of their frames - only made matters worse for her. As she sat, lost and terrified, she gradually felt the caressing hand of the cold creeping down through her skin and into her bones, freezing her through.

The blonde didn't know how long she'd been sat there, feeling sorry for herself, when she noticed someone walking away seemingly full of purpose. Figuring that trying to get answers from the woman was better than freezing to death, Bianca slowly pulled herself back up to her feet - wincing slightly as her muscles began working again after so long of sitting prone leaving an ache to spread across her body - and hesitantly began trailing after the woman. A part of her was screaming to not interrupt the woman, to let her get on with her life without Bianca's interference, and to find the way back to the den alone yet the other part of her knew that she'd never do that. If she had to find her way back alone then she'd never get back. She'd forever be lost amongst the shady patrons of the fringe and presumed dead. She wouldn't even be mourned, no. She wouldn't even be able to watch her baby grow, she'd just be another faint memory forgotten amongst the thousands of others who went missing.

Bianca was instantly snapped out of her thoughts as she felt herself thrown against a wall, her head recoiling back and slamming back into the surface, and a knife held against her throat. Once she'd managed to get some of her wits back, the wolf looked back into the face of her assailant, ignoring the throbbing that she could feel coming from the back of her head. When she spoke, her voice was pleading, words tumbling out of her mouth in a jumble. ] 

I'm- I'm sorry. I didn'- I don'- I ain't gonna harm you. I ain't a threat I jus' got lost. I jus' wanna get to the market, I ain't wantin' trouble. Please don't kill me, I'll do anythin'.

[roryshaw-blog]

[ Under his hand Rory felt the girl stiffen uncomfortably. He pulled his hand off her shoulder without a second’s hesitation and held it up with his fingers splayed to demonstrate that he meant no harm by the action. The girl was damaged and he knew that. He wasn’t entirely sure how or why but he would figure it out eventually – it was his job to fix things. He just needed to make her open up.

The wide grin that spread across Bianca’s face was phenomenal. He’d never seen a grin so wide at the mention on his cookies. The cookies were bloody brilliant but that grin was huge. Ever since he was little Granny’s cookies had been a great comfort to him, jack too. He would never forget spending nights wrapped up in several threadbare blankets munching on warm cookies with Jack. Them joking together until tears ran down their chubby little cheeks. At the memory a reminiscent smile curled at the corner of his mouth until he returned Blondie’s grin. ]

That ya do, ol’ chum. Me Granny’s cookie recipe is the best around. Ain’t no cookies better. When I make ‘em I add a special somethin’ that ain’t no one complainin’ about. You’ll see. You’ll love ‘em, Blondie. Ya bound to.

[ If those cookies didn’t perk her up he didn’t know what would. They never failed. Jack and he still enjoyed them on a regular basis. The pack did, too, on full moon celebrations. Giving a nod off back down the alley, Patch began to in the vague direction of the den. It would take ages to walk there on the street level. The lad stretched his arms into the air and flexed his bound up fingers. He then suddenly leapt onto a window ledge and gripped the top of the window as he glanced down to the teen girl. ]

Up for goin’ over tops? I fancy a run that gets me sweatin’ like a Bearded Woman under the knife.

[biancacrowe]

[ The fact that Patch so quickly moved away from her and showed that he was being unthreatening as she stiffened said a lot about the Witch Doctor. Most people would just keep at it, using it as a weakness to whittle her down until she agreed to whatever they wanted her to do. But not Patch. He was different to other people - even amongst the pack he was different - and it was that quality, along with the forced aspect of it, that allowed her to feel small slithers of trust towards him.

For a moment, when he mentioned adding 'a special somethin'' to the cookies, Bianca felt a surge of hesitation bubble inside her before she attempted to squash it down. Sure, she didn't particularly want to eat something that had unknown substances in it but the rest of the pack ate them happily enough at celebrations and she wanted to become a proper part of the pack. She wanted to feel truly accepted and if eating cookies started that process then eat cookies she would do. Instead of verbally responding to his comment, the blonde wolfling nodded, the remaining hesitation she felt revealing itself in her actions.

Seeing Patch start off down the alley towards the den, Bianca pulled herself to her feet and trudged after him, still stuck in thoughts of what he could potentially add to the cookies. At the sight of him jumping to a window ledge, Bianca's attention was brought back to the present and she felt her stomach plummet. She knew what he was about to ask and she dreaded it. She didn't want him laughing at her when he saw how pathetic she was when it came to manouvering around the rooftops. And, as expected, the dreaded question was asked. ]

I- I guess we can do that. I ain't as quick as you though. I ain't as good with all the manouverin' an' what not across the rooftops.

[fillemortex]

        “Oh, well you’re right..” 

[ Romy wouldn’t offer her assortment of weaponry. She wouldn’t leave without it and she didn’t trust the other to just hand over something sharp. She couldn’t cut off two entire legs, she just hadn’t had the time. She continues to consume. Crimson paints her lips, her chin even, drips to the forest floor. She no longer feels the throb of life but she continues to feel love. She wish she could feel that feeling forever. She eats fast, much faster than she’d like to. Fuck it, she had to at least try. Her fingers apply a little more pressure, her ashen eyes are hard. ] 

       ”Why are you unarmed? Don’t you know it’s so unsafe?” 

[ Whoops!! Did that add to the weary this blonde so blatantly wears? Romy must look and appear like a psychopath. But the little foxgirl doesn’t pattern that. She knows who she is ( at least, that’s how she sees it). And sometimes she thinks everyone knows what she knows. If only she could know where she belongs. The heart is devoured, and she lifts the blade that rested under her knee and skillfully starts to cut through meat. She wont go for legs. Instead she cut elsewhere. There will be no bone this way anyways. Pausing, she reaches to stroke the elk’s alters. She can feel the velvet. She wipes blood on her bear legs. Shuffling in her bag, she brings out a clean knife. Angling it just so, she starts removing as much as the velvet as she possibly can. ] 

       ”—-M’name’s Romy. What’s yours?”

[biancacrowe]

[ A small shrug was Bianca’s response to the girl’s question. It wasn’t like she’d planned to come down to the ground. She’d just wanted to stay on the rooftops and watch the sky but the wolfling had been drawn away from her safe haven upon spotting the other girl moving towards the forest. If she’d known what she’d find herself facing then maybe she would’ve brought something as a weapon, even if she never intended on using it. She was still unsure about how to feel about her, the girl looked on the verge of being completely feral and the blonde didn’t know what to do about it. She’d never been faced with a situation like the one she now found herself in. ]

I was jus’ gonna stay on the rooftops watchin’ the sky. It’s safer up there, y’know? Most people ain’t great at climbin’ so I thought I’d be able to get away if someone started comin’ after me.

[ Despite trying to come across as confident – although she was certain she’d failed at that – Bianca was fully aware that the girl could snap at her any moment, wanting to rip her to shreds, like she had the elk, and loot her body. Although her heart screamed at her to be weary of the girl as she pulled out a knife, the blonde wolf couldn’t help her inquisitiveness as she took a hesitant step forwards to watch what she was doing. Before she could get a decent view on what was happening, the feral girl spoke up again. ]

I’m Bianca. What are you doin’ to it now?

[biancacrowe]

Three foods you hate the most

Nuts. They’re just somethin’ that I never liked, really. Don’t ask me why, I dunno, really.

Peas. They creep me out. Small green balls happily rollin’ around on the ground like some sorta eyeball from a fictional monster. I know it’s a stupid reason an’ all but it ain’t my fault, I can’t help it.

Does moonshine count as a food? I mean I know it’s a drink an’ everythin’ but I dunno what else to say. I just don’t get why people would wanna drink so much of it, if anythin’ it just makes survivin’ harder, doesn’t it? I know it makes everythin’ in your head go weird, I’ve seen that much happenin’ at the full moon celebrations since I’ve been a wolf an’ the stories my daddy used to tell me just push me away from it.

[biancacrowe]

Why do you think your step=mum dislikes you?

Dislikes me? She despied me. I did nothin’ to her, she just came in one day an’ instantly hated me. I’d even tried, y’know? Tried gettin’ her to tell me what I’d done, tried gettin’ her likin’ me but nothin’ seemed to work. The only thing she wanted from me was for me to be gone, out of their lives. She got what she wanted in the end. I think it was ‘cuz I took some of daddy’s attention from her an’ the twins though. I dunno what else it coulda been.

[biancacrowe]

The Fringe is on fire: You can save three people. Who do you save?

I don’t think I’d be able to save anyone, really. I ain’t all that great with situations like that.

If I was actually able to three people though? I guess I’ll be goin’ with my bairn - I couldn’t be dealin’ with myself if I left him to burn if I could save him - my daddy - I know he ain’t all bad. He was just under a lotta pressure when he chose to side with Joyce over me, I ain’t holdin’ a grudge over it  - an’, an’ I guess- I guess I gotta choose Patch. I ain’t even that close to him an’ he’s a man an’ all that but he’s probably the only one - wolf or not - that’s ever tried gettin’ me to open up more and join in, y’know?

[biancacrowe]

I ain't very interestin' but I'll help if I can.