god of the wired.

Lain Solus || 30 || Lycan || Arno Pack || Hacker || i see everything. that is my curse. 

[ramimedley1981]

[lainsolus]

ericxaquino: 

“Hmm, not exactly,” they chided in mild agreement, shrugging off their keen avoidance of the issue. It’s not exactly like Eric had even given the packs a chance to screw with him, blending in amidst the robust population that Rome contained. “And, you’d actually be pleasantly surprised at those who come to Dante’s tripping off said drugs,” they smirked, though they knew there was a broad difference of the drugs that were laced into the fey’s menu compared to that of regular street drugs from humans. “I am trying to get close to your level, however, and I think this may just do the trick,” he plucked a champagne flute from a nearby table, a rich purple concoction swirling around the glass, “Are you always this screwed up?” Perhaps their heart sank at the wonder if Lain ever held a breadth of sobriety, though Eric held his tongue, downing the drink with a small grin.

The way Eric had dismissed his inquiry only fueled his curiosity towards the other lycan. Although they seemed friendly, Lain began to ponder what it would take to make Eric snap. He reached up to remove his mask, the reflective glass covering his face made eating and drinking with it in place impossible. Lain gave the drinks on the table a suspicious look, only taking one after Eric had picked up a glass. "Everything here has gotta be laced with something. If you take too much, you'll end up like that," Lain gestured to a sweaty witch that had stripped down to his underwear, aggressively flailing about in a crowd of people in a crude attempt at dancing; pupils blown wide, a smile that was all teeth etched into his features. It was not the first time someone had asked if he was always intoxicated. Friends, exes, family, therapists, the question always came up at some point. Some brought it up out of genuine concern, others out of annoyance. He was unsure of what Eric’s reason was. "Not this bad, I think I overdid it this time," Lain admitted with a sheepish grin. He paused, looking them over, "Does life ever feel like too fucking much for you? I can't cope with this shit sober." 

[sanctimoniovs]

where. grand hall who. @lainsolus

Burak was in the middle of denying a dance from another guest in a ruddy looking mask when the scent of Lain caught his attention. If it hadn’t been the familiar smell of the other, he certainly wouldn’t have noticed him with the helmet that seemed to be placed on his head. “Did you get sucked here from some motorbike race?”

[lainsolus]

"C’mon, this mask is fuckin’ sick.  See how reflective this thing is? People keep coming and looking at their reflections. I bet I threw this bitch in a pool I could drown some of these narcissistic fucks," Lain laughed, watching the people on the dancefloor.  Some of them looked like they were succumbing to exhaustion, but showed no signs of stopping.  What the fuck was going on here? “Can you dance or are you just here to watch these people flail around?”

[lainsolus]

for: @senatusstarters

where: post plot drop, outside near the maze

Lain watched his own reflection distort in a puddle of fresh blood. What he was looking at he no longer recognized, the beast bore some resemblance to his lycan but was more grotesque and deformed. Yellowed teeth protruded from the edges of a pointed snout, the shape of the muzzle more crocodilian than wolf and its eyes were unblinking, jagged red slits. The veins on Lain's arms had turned black, the fingers on his left hand had already transformed into claws that looked like shards of obsidian. When he blinked, it was gone. A shrill, desperate scream caught his attention as he turned his head to see a woman get crushed in the massive jaws of a hulking monstrosity. The mortals trapped in this realm had been led here like lambs to slaughter, perhaps as some sacrificial offering to be  thrown at the feet of an unknown power.  

The river of causality had run red with blood. Who would be fortunate enough to escape their doomed fate and break free of its flow? Just like a fish leaping from the water. "Hey! If anyone's still alive, answer me!" Lain shouted, frantic as he trudged through the piles of dismembered corpses scattered across the ground. “Serkan! Burak! Anton! Val! Flora! Emory!” He called out the names of friends and pack mates that he had encountered earlier in the night.  

Standing alone amidst the carnage was Salvatore, an old, grizzled lycan that had been a part of the Arno Pack for decades.  His back was turned to Lain and the older man stood eerily still.  “Sal! Oh thank fuck you’re still ali-,” Lain’s words caught in his throat as hidden tendrils made of blood soaked sinew lifted the hollowed husk of Salvatore’s body up in the air, shaking him around like he was a puppet. Something had eaten the lycan from the inside, leaving only a broken shell of muscle, skin and bone.  The changelings broke the body in half, the tendrils feeding the corpse into the mouth of a massive creature.

[lainsolus]

Lain Solus @ The Masquerade

[drunkonschadenfreude]

[lainsolus]

ericxaquino:        

  “That would have at least made it interesting,” he bore a wicked grin, raising his brows as if expecting their suggested rematch to go to such grisly place. Eric  subconsciously open and closed his hands, the residual ache dulling the perpetual ire within him for the moment, sparing a glance to survey Lain’s bloodied countenance. They hadn’t meant to inspire such bloodshed, especially since Lain seemed positively sideways, their grin transforming into a mild smirk. “I can’t say I’m up for kicking your ass again, I’d feel like a bully. Though I could offer you a drink or a buddy to walk you to the infirmary,” he presumed there was one around the grounds, though the witches could also have an entirely different trick up their sleeves when it came to healing the wounds obtained from the matches. “Loser’s choice,” Eric decided for Lain as if it was the least he could do.

“C’mon, this at least has to be kinda interesting,” Lain pressed, “How often do you get to fight lycans tripping on interdimensional demon drugs?” But with skills like that, it was difficult to determine exactly what Eric had and had not encountered in combat. Lain found himself feeling envious of how in control the delta was over their body, even in the midst of the fight.  “A drink sounds great,” he replied, the thought of an infirmary made his skin crawl.   They would all know he was high.  He was not about to become some witch’s experiment.  “I take it that you don’t really have to worry about the packs around here fucking with you,” He observed with a small smile as they walked to the bar. 

[ramimedley1981]

[lainsolus]

floratitus: 

Many wolves tried to make their shifting a formula to follow, clothes to be stashed in a pre-decided location and nothing but trees to roam when the beast in emerged. Only the beast that lay in wait inside of them didn’t live by rules or self-guided mandates, it was feral and followed laws of its own. Being apart of the pack helped with control, Tiber had helped Flora’s wolf much more than they could ever come to understand. She had made it way to the woods on the full moon with ideals of old rituals and old ways to follow – the moon called forth the beast and the best thing the human within her could do is surrender. Her bones broke as her jaw elongated and animal fur grew through her skin. An inhumane howl left the throat of the wolf once her shift was complete, standing on strong hind legs, she was a terror in the night.

Hours had passed and she tracked the smell of wildlife as prey, hunting through the thin trees and her pack had dissipated, consumed by the power of the moon, she quickly found herself alone – at least until she smelt a familiar scent through the air. A growl resounded in the back of her throat and nothing good could come from the two separate packs interacting on that night. She becomes stilled, refusing to be the lamb to the slaughter or a deer caught on an unfortunate night but if an attack is to come, she will be prepared. The claws and fangs come as expected and vicious growl rips out from her own lungs, surging forward to meet him in a clash of her own wolf form. He reigns his wolf in, gains control at the last second but it is too late for her to change course. Her claws find his chest and her teeth rip into his shoulder. Her human conscious remains silent as the wolf has control but she isn’t hungry for his flesh, will only defend her own so she does not strike again.

The witching hour begins as the sun eclipses the moon and her humanity ripples through her from within, an agonized scream as she’s forced into an early change before the night is through. Her mouth is filled with the taste of iron and she spits his blood onto the ground. “Fuck.” She is shaky on her feet as she falls beside him, back hunched against a tree trunk and she cares little for the wet leaves that stick to her skin. “Are you hurt? Are you okay? I’m so sorry Lain.” Desperate eyes and hands scrambling to find the wound she’s left him with, bile rising in her throat for being the one to hurt him.

"Why the fuck did we turn back? It's still dark." Lain said through gritted teeth, gripping the top of his right shoulder where Flora's teeth had made contact. He suspected their abrupt transformations were the result of some witches meddling with powerful magic, not considering that the moon itself was the cause of it.  "Your aim still sucks." This was Lain's attempt at a joke, dark and off-putting. He was staring at the wounds on his chest and shoulder, the one on his chest leaking more than the puncture wounds from wolf teeth on his shoulder.  "A little too far to the right and a little too low," He commented about the placement of her attack and how she had missed anything lethal.  Lain looked her over, searching for any marks his wolf might have left on her and was shocked when he could not find any. 

Turning back with fresh gashes in his skin meant that the wounds looked much more open now that the skin and muscle were stretched over a smaller frame. The contortions of his body rearranging itself  also caused more blood to flow and gush from the holes in his flesh.  With his left hand he grabbed the front of his already ruined t-shirt and ripped the remaining threads of material still clinging to him off so that he could use it as a rag to apply pressure to the wounds.  He flinched when she touched him, a pretty common reaction when any touched him when he was injured.  He looked down at the twin streams of blood that had trickled down his stomach, collecting at the tattered waistband of the shredded remains of the pants he was wearing. If he needed to go to the hospital to get stitches, Lain simply would not go. He hated hospitals and it was going to be hard to come up with an excuse for the obvious signs of a lycan attack on his body. "I'm fine, look, put this here and press down." He gave Flora the wadded up shirt, placing his hand over hers before applying some pressure to the two parallel slashes on his chest. He met her gaze, trying to remain as calm as possible. "Hey, stop worrying, I'm okay." As painful and confusing as his current predicament was, Flora's presence was comforting in spite of her being the one who hurt him this time. "I'm sorry for trying to attack you. You did the right thing."

[lainsolus]

emmaxmicah:

Was there a term for it? “And here I was thinking I’d had an original thought for once.” Micah said with a bit of a sigh, taking another drink, despite the fact that it didn’t taste all that appealing. It definitely wasn’t doing anything. The longer he got from his time in the vigil, the less he remembered it, there’d been some old fey there but truthfully Micah wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t at this point. He’d taken the reigns from Emma somewhat indefinitely, she was always so stressed, if anything Micah justified it like he was doing her a favour. When the money started to run out he’d spare the little pills he’d been getting from Blue and let the curse take hold again. It was peaceful, nice to have nights that didn’t end when the sun was setting, to wake up in the same place he’d fallen asleep. His head hurt less too, less whispering, less inklings. Him and Emory were even in a… semi-good-place, that whole monstrous threesome thing wasn’t something that Micah was going to be able to forget anytime soon.

His attention fixed on Lain, the wolf looked like he was in even worse shape than Micah was, and that was saying something. “Speak for yourself,” Micah said with ease, “definitely fucked up in parts but I dunno, I’d do it again.” Maybe it was the fey in him talking, but even the horrific parts had been a gas.

-

"You'd do this shit again?! Hell fuckin' no, you'll be tripping by yourself," Lain shook his head in disapproval, cracking a smile that faded too quickly. Micah was one of the few people he had met that went harder than him and was somehow still alive. "Like, two days after we smoked I got stuck in this fucked up loop where I was just watching different versions of myself kill each other. And I swear I could feel everything. Then after all of that I kept seeing my wolf kill all my friends and I couldn't do anything except watch."  Lain failed to mention that his experience only started going sour after he had found out about Emory and Micah's past relationship. 

"Look, I've gotta tell you something," Lain started off cryptically, trying to stall for just a little longer even though he had been rehearsing how to break the news to Micah for a week now. But now he was out of time. "And if you hate me for this, I understand," Lain added quickly, sadness creeping back into his voice, before preparing to rip off the metaphorical bandaid. "I fucked Emory," Lain blurted out, studying Micah's reaction as he continued. "Well, not all the way. I mean we fooled around a few times, blowjobs and handjobs, shit like that. I had no fuckin' idea he was your ex, man. If I would've known, I would've left him alone, I'm not like that. I may be a shitty person, but I try to be a decent friend." Lain was rambling now, a mixture of anxiety and remorse. "I haven't done anything with him in a while. I'm worried I'm going to end up losing control and biting him, that's why I never slept with Emory." He meant to comfort Micah with his statement that he would shift his relationship with Emory to a strictly platonic one, even if he was unsure if the halfblood needed it. 

[fuckyeahmrobot]

fuckyeahmrobot:

Elliot: Hoodiless | eps 4-10 (requested by anonymous)

[antonpleon]

He’s not surprised to be left standing outside after knocking twice. He is surprised to find the lock itself above the door seemed jostled. As if someone had tried to break it off before picking it. Someone being Valeri no doubt and he never knows if something like that should make him worried or amused by the other man’s antics. He’s more worried about Lain not coming to the door at the moment and so he unlocks the door with his own key and steps into what is the definition of a bachelor’s living space. Empty, and normally that wouldn’t have been such a big deal had he not just had to hear about what went on earlier from Flora. There’s no time wasted in crossing to the bathroom and Anton sighs in some mix of exasperation and amusement at the sight of Lain in the tub, a half smoked joint in an ashtray beside lit candles. He must have dozed off and it does earn him a click of his tongue in disapproval but he reaches over to touch the water. It’s still warm, his worry dissipates, there’s bubbles, he hadn’t been in there all that long. There’s bubbles. He flicks the water droplets towards the other lycan before he takes the side of his face in his hand and gives it a couple of pats. It’s not ideal to wake him, normally the problem was getting him to actually go to sleep. Still, it’s an opportunity to annoy him, so he’d take it, kept gently shaking him. “You know, if I didn’t know you better, I’d have thought you were attempting romance.” @lainsolus​

[lainsolus]

After going a few days without sleep, Lain was starting to get desperate. Sure enough, a warm bath and three joints to the face did the trick. It was not ideal, but at this point, he would take any sleep he could get. The whole apartment had its usual smell of weed and burnt electronics but was overlaid by the scent of ten different candles burning. The lycan had not been out for long when Anton had let himself in. His shoulders were draped over the rim of the tub, his head tilted back and resting against the shower wall behind him. Lain felt someone shaking him and mumbled something that sounded a lot like fuck off as he shoved incoherently at Anton’s arm while keeping his eyes closed.  When he heard him speak, he opened his eyes and stared at him in confusion.  It took him a few seconds to mentally wake up, but he couldn't help but crack a smile when he finally came to; although it might kill him to say that he missed Anton while the other lycan was away on vacation. 

"Trust me dude, if I was going to put the moves on you I sure as fuck wouldn't start off by passing out in the tub." Lain sat up, pushing back the wet hair that was sticking to his forehead. "Can't a guy take a fuckin' bubble bath in peace?" He grumbled, but he was glad Anton was back. Anton had stepped up to mentor Val when Lain was unable to do so, all while mending the damage he had already done to the man he had bitten. Lain's trust issues and antisocial tendencies had built a wall between them, but Anton was persistent and eventually broke it down. "You hear about the dead vampire they found in the river? Shit's pretty wild."

[lainsolus]

ouchval:

Val only grinned back that stupid fucking smile of his, he couldn’t possible know what Lain had been thinking when he found his house broken into. But, the look of relief that was clear on his face was validation enough for Val to feel mighty pleased with himself. Their relationship was pretty fucked, at least in the beginning. Hell, especially in the beginning; when Val found out that Lain had been fucking around with him for so long, he wanted to rip his throat out. Sometimes he still got that urge. Watching him place down the hot beverage in front of him, Val furrowed his eyebrows while pushing himself up into an upright sitting position he groaned, “why would I leave the bar with someone, when I have you waiting at home for me?” quickly grabbing the glass of water, shooting Lain a glare while drinking from it. “Or at least, I thought you’d be home. Sorry about your lock, I’m sure it’s fine it’s just banged up a little.” taking another swing from the glass, he considered getting up to make himself a bowl of cereal. But though better of it, his stomach wasn’t doing so hot; he doubted adding milk would make it feel any better.

For the life of him he couldn’t remember what drew him to Lain’s apartment. Sure there had to be a reason, certainly not because he was drunk and felt lonely……. No, that definitely wasn’t it. “I bet you haven’t slept yet, huh? hacker man?” Leaning over to reach into his back pocket to pull out his phone, the screen all cracked and barely operational. The battery sign blinking twice before shutting back off. “What time is it? Are you going to sleep now?” letting gravity take over and flopping onto his side, head resting on the arm rest of the couch, arms wrapped around his stomach. “Those bags under your gorgeous eyes will only get bigger if you keep staying up this late.” his words although teasing, had some concern behind them.

"Yeah man, I actually couldn't sleep because I kept fantasizing about drunk and horny werewolves breaking into my apartment," Lain joked, although he was sure that was someone's legitimate fantasy.  The amount of absolutely vile porn he’s found while looking through clouds he’s hacked actually made the werewolf fantasy seem pretty vanilla come to think of it.  He looked over at the door when Val mentioned it. Since when could this little shit pick locks? As much as he feigned annoyance anytime Val dropped in on him out of the blue, deep down Lain liked having him around.  Over the years their already morbid codependence reached a new level when they started sleeping together.  It started as a one off thing, a drunken mistake, a heated argument quickly devolving into ripping clothing off of one another on a cold wood floor.  

After a quick inspection of his bedroom to ensure that Val hadn't touched any of his stuff he returned to the living room. He shook his head at the nickname, a hint of a smile on his lips.  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time.  “It’s 6:17,” Lain walked over to the other side of the small couch, picking Val’s legs up so he could sit down where they were previously resting across the seat. “Wasn’t planning on it, I’m not really tired yet.” That was a lie. He leaned across the other lycan’s legs that were currently laid across his lap to grab his coffee off of the table. “My sleep schedule has been even more fucked up ever since I took that shit at the Vigil.  I’m lucky to get four hours.” Maybe it was the cycle of drugs that brought him up and down throughout the day and not just the one bad experience at a funeral.  “So where’d you go anyways?  All Fours?”

[lainsolus]

for: @floratitus

location: neutral zone between Tiber and Arno territories

time: witching hour

Lain made it a priority to make it to the woods before he had to relinquish control of his body to the wolf. He always tried to isolate himself from the others, especially on the first night of involuntary shifting, since that was when he was the most volatile. He barely had enough time to stash his backpack containing his clothes inside a hollowed out log before his body started to change. The scream he let out distorted into a howl as the larynx and vocal cords also morphed into something that was no longer human. The lycan stalked through the woods for hours, the shadow cloaked moon sinking lower and lower into the sky being the only indicator that any time had passed. 

A low growl rumbled in the beast's chest when a familiar scent drifted towards him. The creature recognized Flora, but all the lingering feelings he had towards the other lycan was locked away in his human subconscious. The wolf was simply a vessel to unleash all of Lain's hatred and rage. A manifestation made of flesh and blood; of fangs and claws. Of course Lain was aware that his wolf was moving in on Flora, but he was no longer piloting the grotesque meat suit.  'You can only watch.' His internal screaming, begging, and pleading to please make it fucking stop came out as an animal's snarl as raised claws sought warm flesh. Just before the blow connected, Lain managed to take back control. Eerie blue eyes flitted from the other lycan to his own raised hand as he watched claws shrink back down into fingernails. He staggered backwards, shakily collapsing to knees as the wet crunches of his skeleton rearranging filled the night air.

[pajamasecrets]

I’m Elliot. Now you know me.

[caspermhahn]

starter for: @lainsolus​ location: park bench, outside on a beautiful day

“Are you—” the vampire started to say as he looked over the man who, in some kind of haphazard fashion, was sprawled across a park bench just outside the Colosseum. Fates wasn’t too far down the way and after the closing ceremony, many had flooded this direction with glazed over looks that Casper suspected was from the activities below the market. He never did get the opportunity to explore the adventures below, but by the appearance of the stranger, it was quite the good time. “Are you doing okay?” it was difficult to hide the sly smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, emerald eyes gleaming as past memories of friends in similar positions were brought to the forefront. He’d like this one, he was sure, if the whole wolf versus vampire didn’t get in the way.

[lainsolus]

Lain had been high for three fucking days.  Constantly alternating between periods of pure bliss and pure hell were enough to keep him awake.  While his mind remained overactive his body had begun to feel fatigued.  He staggered and drug his feet on his slow walk home from the Colosseum, collapsing onto the nearest park bench with an exhausted sigh.  What had started as a quick break to catch his breath turned into sprawling out across the bench and looking up at the sky.  The lycan glanced over at the man who approached, able to tell that he was a vampire and already bracing himself for some smartass comment that stemmed from the hatred between their species.  Instead, he asked if he was doing okay.  “If a being from another dimension offers you drugs at a funeral for some witches, just say no,” Lain replied with a groan as he sat up so he was no longer on his back.  “So, does blood just taste like blood to you?  Or is there like, other flavors in there that I can’t pick up?  It just tastes like pennies to me,” Lain blurted out.  The substance and sleep deprivation made it difficult to filter his words. 

[emmawrxght]

@lainsolus

setting: the intergalactic comedown 

“What if…” Micah sat on the sofa of the Black Dog with his hands fisted in his pockets, not really paying attention to what was on screen as his drink stayed mostly untouched in front of him. It tasted like stale water, it was supposed to be wine but it might as well have been mud for all it was doing for him. The shot hadn’t stayed down, nothing really sounded appealing except what the pair of them had kicked up during the vigil. “what if we’ve already died in every conceivable way, and what we’re experiencing right now as consciousness is that part of us that lives on forever. You think I’m out there, missing from someone else’s story, or is there someone missing from mine?” He asked his friend, his tone low as his throat all but croaked before a smile spread on his lips and he laughed lowly. “Coming down from universal… Whatever that was, man this fucking sucks.” He attempted another sip then frowned and set it back down, actively not thinking about the fact that he’d slept with Emory while he was at his most -enlightened-. 

[lainsolus]

Lain had finally texted Micah and asked him if he wanted to hang out, the guilt was becoming too much to handle. He didn't want to lose one of the few friends he had, but he wanted Micah to find out everything from him first instead of Emory; even though he was unsure if the two of them were still speaking to one another, Lain assumed so based on the witch's reaction at the Vigil. So here he was, trying to focus on Micah's every word in order to keep himself present.  From what he was saying, it seemed like the halfblood had a better experience on the substance than Lain had.  The come down was still kicking both of their asses, regardless of how the bodies of different species metabolized the drug. 

"Oh so like quantum immortality? Like, every near death experience a person has is just them switching to an alternate universe and they actually died in their original timeline," Lain offered, reaching for his drink. Surprisingly, alcohol was not his preferred void filler. He would have a drink if he went out somewhere, but hardly ever got trashed off of booze anymore. He had told the bartender to just make him whatever, so now he was lounging on the couch with a tall glass of bluish-green liquid that just tasted like pure sugar. It was gross, but Lain took a sip because he was anxious and needed something to do with his hands. "Tell me about it," Lain sighed, “I can’t tell if it was even fuckin’ worth it at this point.  I mean, it was good for a while, but then shit got bad.  Like, really bad.  Probably the worst trip of my life, and I’ve done mescaline.”