King of the Clouds

owen jackson | 28 | human | slave | undeclared major | rank level: 0 | points: -20

[freddie-buckley-deactivated2024]

You can talk. I lip read. Freddie rolled his eyes, giggling at Jackson. It was a common assumption, even if you weren't already off your tits. He took a hit from the joint, examining it between his fingers for a moment before passing it back to Jackson. Pretty well rolled- not too tight, but not dropping its contents everywhere. It was a little stronger than he was anticipating. What he could get his hands on in the UK was much weaker than anything you would get in the US, let alone some Caribbean island. It was less of an art-form back home. Freddie. Yep. Came from UK yesterday. He eyed Jackson, trying to get a read on him, whether he was a full-time trouble maker or just someone who liked a joint. There weren't exactly any rules on drugs, at least that he'd been aware of, and the usual legal system really didn't apply. He had no reason to believe he was doing anything wrong, unless someone should happen to decide that. Been here long?

[owen-jackson]

"Well, thank god for that because I'm high as fuck and typing is hard has shit right now." Jackson said, watching the other pull a hit from the joint. Squinting against the sun to read the words, he gave a little, unsurprised nod. If you end up on the island long enough to tend to see the look of a newcomer a mile away.

"And what'd you think so far?" Jackson asked the loaded question with a little quirk of his head, trying to determine just how well Freddie was handling it. He wasn't currently kicking and screaming at guards so he seemed to be doing a bit better than Jackson had when he'd first arrived.

"Yeah, a bit." Jackson answered with a shrug. In reality he'd lost count, failing too many classes to keep track of the semesters he'd even completed, spending too much of his time on the island fucked out of his mind to keep track of anything really.

"You got a major picked?" He asked curiously while holding out his hand for his joint.

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @pretty-boyelliot

Jackson's brow raised when Elliot insisted he wasn't lurking, looking not too convinced but he didn't push it further. He watched Elliot move closer when writing on his own arm caught his attention. Black sharpie, scribbled in familiar writing:

You hit your head, no you can't leave the library, don't be a dumbass. -Noah

Jackson squinted at the words for a moment before touching the back of his head tenderly and--yup, that hurt. Letting out a small sigh, Jackson shifted in his seat to lean forward and ruffle the top of the little dog's head as Elliot sat.

"You're not a bother, I just--I'm sure I don't need a babysitter, Noah's overreacting. I'm fine." he waved his hand as if that was going to convince Elliot of anything. "Just a headache."

He tried to force a bit of a smile but the sheen of sweat on his brow the paleness of his skin said otherwise. "How long have we been stuck in this hellhole anyways?"

[dragonsden-ranks]

NOTICE: Island Rankings have been updated.

Congratulations to Jude Rigby and Avery Fellhaven for topping the ranks in October!

Dylan Altomare, Nova Walker, and Owen Jackson have been assigned LEVEL 0 ACCESS.

No new perks have been earned.

The next update is scheduled for December 1st.

@heyxmissxjude @slaveavery @fire-starterdylan @novaxwalker @owen-jackson

[owen-jackson]

[freddie-buckley-deactivated2024]

The hearing aids gave Freddie access to some sounds, but weren't perfectly able to replicate hearing. Only someone standing pretty close, speaking with the utmost clarity and without background noise was understandable in the traditional way you would expect to understand words. Mostly the aids suggested to Freddie that something was making a sound at all, and he was reliant on his eyes to do the rest, lip-reading what he couldn't properly parse. Truth be told, he barely remembered hearing. He'd been so small when he lost it and even in his memory, in his dreams, voices sounded like they were underwater. Initially, he thought the sound was a cawing seagull. But then he spotted the man at the periphery of his vision and turned, squinting against the bright light of the sun. He flattened a hand, shielding his eyes. Nope, whatever he was saying, Freddie couldn't tell, and he was too far away to get an accurate lip read. He had no choice but to tuck his sketchbook under his arm and approach him. At least he was wearing a collar, which helped to quell some of the dread in the pit of his stomach. The breeze ruffled Freddie's bleach-blonde hair and the fabric of his shirt as he fumbled for his flip pad. Sorry. Deaf. Freddie. What you want? He stared at the man, his head tipped to one side curiously... Hang on? Was that weed? Fuck yeah, Freddie could use some of that. He didn't think of himself as a stoner exactly, but Freddie was always down for a little bit of recreational activity. He pinched his finger and thumb together, mimed lifting a joint to his lip. Pass it?

[owen-jackson]

Confusion crossed Jackson's expression as the other stood up, his head tilting to watch as his fingers pulled the joint from his lips, breathing out a slow wisp of smoke.

"Shit," Jackson said as he read the writing. He was in the process of figuring out how to answer, his high brain moving slow, when Freddie gestured to his lips--a sign Jackson would never be able to mistake.

He can't help the little breath that escapes his lips, and the hesitation as he looked down to the joint then back to Freddie, as if the joint in his hand was his own and he hadn't stolen it from Noah's stash. But look, sharing in the past with new guys had kicked him in the ass before, who could blame him?

But he really must be getting soft, and he took pity on the new face and after taking another small hit himself, Jackson passes the joint over before pulling out his phone and opening the notes app, angling it so Freddie could see.

My name's Jackson.

You new?

[elyyxium]

Two Night Stand (2014)

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @noahwrightx

It really wasn't until that very moment that Jackson realized how there never was any pity in Noah's eyes when he looked at him, not normally. Not until this moment when it was suddenly crystal clear that the reaper had no idea who he was. Noah's gaze made Jackson's stomach twist, but what it shifted into when he stupidly mentioned Leigh's name sent a chill down his spine.

It was Jackson's turn to raise his hands in surrender, to try to show he meant no harm, except he knew the intensity of Noah's loyalty and how far he'd go to protect the ones he loved. Jackson knew when it came to Leigh, those feelings were tenfold.

"Noah, please--" he only managed out the beginning of his plea as he backed away, but Noah's hands found the front of his shirt and Jackson's head cracked roughly against the surface of the wall, sending dizzying stars across his vision for a moment.

They'd been in this position so many times before, Jackson pressed up against a wall with Noah's body flush against him, except under entirely different circumstances. Jackson's gaze found Kiera lurking behind Noah, her expression mocking and delighted.

So the one person you turn to doesn't even know who you are, figures. Probably for the best anyways, he deserves better than you.

Jackson shook his head, trying to get rid of her voice ringing in his head. It was all too much; and Noah calling him a 'strung-out junkie' had fresh tears welling in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hold them back. He could have held it together, with anyone else, but not Noah.

"Noah, please, it's me, it's Jackson." He couldn't help the weak words from slipping out, begging Noah to remember him, even though this wasn't even the first time the island had made the reaper forget him.

"I don't know her, I just--I was there when you saw her, c'mon Noah please, please remember, fuck--I really need you to remember." He pleaded desperately while trying to ignore Kiera's angry glare from over Noah's shoulder.

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @pretty-boyelliot

Jackson sniffed, his head turning to try to hide the emotion sticking to the back of his throat and lingering on his expression. He hated this. Hated the way Elliot looked at him like he was a wounded animal, like he'd lash out at any moment--but was the other really so wrong in his thinking?

Jackson didn't understand how someone like Elliot, who'd been through hell and back, could be the way he was. Jackson didn't think he'd have been able to survive Elliot's life, hell, he barely could survive his own. Jackson shook his head when the other spoke.

Safe. What did that even mean in a place like this? He really didn't want to be having this conversation, especially not with Elliot. It made him feel itchy and irritated, like he was a wounded animal being backed into a corner, and it reminded him all too much of the conversations that had led him to the island in the first place.

"You know, it's just--it's not that fucking simple, kid." He hated the slight edge to his voice, and the way he tacked on 'kid' to the end of his statement, knowing full well how much Elliot didn't like that.

[owen-jackson]

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @freddie-buckley

The last while had been eventful, to say the very least, and if he was being honest, Jackson was surprised he'd managed to survive it all. The one good part about living on an island as a human was no matter how much he abused his body, a good round of magical healing and he was good as new, at least for a while anyways.

He'd always considered the island strict, with it's collars and rules, but the new headmistress really put Dante to shame. Jackson hadn't realized just how much he'd been able to get away with before, when the collars were leather and didn't shock you if you stepped out of bounds. Who knew old Dante wasn't such a mastermind after all.

Thankfully, the beach was still a place Jackson could go with the new fancy rules and points system, and somewhere that didn't remind him of the crumbling dorm building.

He walked slowly along the hot sand, a joint smoldering slowly between his lips when he spotted the figure sitting on the sand in the distance. At first, with the sun in shining at him, Jackson thought it was Elliot sitting there drawing, but it wasn't until he was a few feet away he realized his mistake. He didn't recognize the boy, but he recognized the look on his face, a look Jackson was sure he wore when he'd first arrived.

Usually he'd have left after realizing his mistake but he was high, and maybe he was getting soft, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from calling out "Hey man, you okay?"

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @noahwrightx

Jackson couldn't help the way his eyes continued to trail down over her body greedily and oh so hungril--he wanted to lick every goddamn inch of her skin. Later on he'd probably look back and realise just how desperate he'd been, almost embarrassingly so, but who could blame him with Noah looking like that? Every soften edge drew Jackson in and he felt all too much like a helpless teenager looking at some gorgeous woman in a forbidden magazine.

"Jesus fucking christ, Noah." His lips parted softly as he watched her slip out of her briefs, teasing him just so before her shirt was off and oh.

"Fuck--" the word was cut off as Noah shifted over him, his voice trailing into what only could have been described as a desperate whine when she didn't actually touch him, but rather hovered her beautiful body over him. His hand moved easily to her side, his fingers splaying and running up to immediately cup one of her breasts tenderly.

"Oh god, please, I'll be so good for you, promise."

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @pretty-boyelliot

Jackson was a fighter. Even as a small boy he'd been quick to raise his fists for a fight, like there was just too much energy trying to force its way out. That instinct to fight never left him, and in times like these here he let it fuse with his anger it was an unstoppable force. A force that he hadn't minded using so much against masters, but now that energy was pouring out of him and Elliot was caught in the crossfire.

The witch's spellwork seemed to fuel the adrenaline in his veins as he was forced to watch his fists treat Elliot like a punching bag. There were probably times where you could work with the island's magic in times like these, try to deal the least amount of damage to your victim. But Jackson was like a wild animal at this point, his body throwing itself into the task compelled of him. "

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," His words were barely audible, echoing Elliot's own apologies.

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @noahwrightx

While Jackson didn't move the hand from Noah's cheek, his steady fingers gentle against the grey tears, that didn't stop the uncomfortable tug in his gut. The one that told him he'd just make this worse and he should extract himself from the situation, a natural instinct of his at this point. But he'd never seen Noah look so utterly and entirely broken, and while there was a time when he'd have tried to run, he swallowed the feeling back.

When Noah's eyes opened and looked back at him, Jackson tried to search his gaze for some understanding of what was going on. His other hand lifted to hold Noah's face more soundly, trying to keep his gaze as Noah's trembling voice spoke.

"What? Your sister?" Jackson furrowed his brow in confusion. Noah had told him about his sister before, knew that Noah didn't know where she was, but he'd never said anything about something being his fault before.

"What's your fault?" He asked gently with worry while trying to brush away tears.

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @layla-dubois

Jackson was really only a fast runner when being chased. He'd had the opportunity to find this out on many occasions in his life where the motivation of someone barraling after him had sent adrenaline flooding his system and sending him flying, and now wasn't any different other than the fact that this time he had a young woman in tow.

"Come ON!" Jackson repeated through gritted teeth as his fingers dug into her arm roughly, not able to take the time for care with a murderous looking assailant after them. Jerking them both around a corner just in time for another ball of fire to come sailing past them, crashing into the path ahead of them, blocking their way.

"Shit," Jackson hissed eyes flying to a back delivery door on the building beside them, and he could hear the crunch of gravel behind them as the woman closed in. He moved quickly, tugging open the door that was blessedly not locked, slipping both of them inside and immediately pulling them both further into a back supply closet and quickly closing the door as quietly as he could.

Jackson turned to Layla, eyes wide as he brought a finger up to his own lips. He said a silent prayer that whoever was looking for them wasn't someone who could sniff them out.

[owen-jackson]

continued from here | @scarlettxmcknight

Each strike seemed to hit harder than the last, though Jackson wasn't sure if it was just his body growing more bruised and raw. He was so fucking tired of this place and it's bullshit, but he gritted his teeth against the thought because really, where else did he have to go at this point?

"That all you fucking got?" Jackson spat out, knowing better than to egg someone on during a time like this, but when he had no other options, it was the only thing that made him feel in control. "C'mon if you're gonna hit me, fucking hit me!"

[victorhuntthesadisticop]

Finding New Toys //Owen+Victor

@owen-jackson

After finding Scarlett and torturing her a bit he wanted to find some new 'toys' to play with that he can use for later while he is attending the school. The chaos has died down a bit as more explosions spread through the island and now there was a fucking purple dragon flying around. "God damn a dragon now? This place just keeps getting better and better~ Rottie we found our paradise~" He smothers the dog with kisses and scratches before walking around aimlessly hoping to find someone else he can interact with. Walking for a couple of more minutes Rottie barks loudly and points his nose in a direction telling him that he found someone. Putting on his 'mask' he runs over to see a man walking up towards them. "Hey man are you alright?" Acting worried he goes up to the man as Rottie trots over and looks at the new man checking him out.

[owen-jackson]

As the island plunged into chaos around him, Jackson found himself pushing his aching body to keep going, keep moving, keep trying to get away. But what exactly was he trying to get away from? His head ached and spun as he tried to remember exactly what had happened. There'd been an explosion, he could almost feel the heat of it against his cheeks, but his memory was swimming with blank spots and all he knew was that he had to keep moving.

Jackson hadn't registered that he'd been heading in the direction of another until the man spoke to him. Typically, the human would have been more suspicious, given the island's nature and the current circumstances, but the blow to his head in the dorms left him confused and wholly unlike himself.

"Huh?" Jackson stops walking, looking at the man blankly for a moment before rubbing the back of his head. "I uh--I think I hit my head," he says bringing his hand back to see some blood on his fingers. "Do you know what's going on?"

[voulez-vousatticus]

It was hot and stuffy and while he had nothing underneath his clothes, he refused to take them off - he'd get heatstroke first. It was a stressful few days, with the power going out and everyone being shoved in the same area, the island getting destroyed - he hoped to god Merlin was alright, it was making him sick how scared the poor cat must have been - and the budding stress and fear became too much for him. The corner he found solace in was momentarily abandoned, the only indicator of him ever being there was a few bags of chips - that tasted disgusting now - left behind, only a few out of each picked at. He found a place to be alone, in a section of the library no one ever went to, not even now, to let it out. Atticus cried, keeping himself quiet, it all becoming too much for a second. But he promised Scott he'd stay in his sight, so he didn't want to be gone for too long. When he managed to reel it back in, he went back to his corner, irritated to see that it was quickly taken over by an equally irritating face. "Dude, are you for real, I was just here," he said, voice thick and heavy. "Please, can you just move? I'm really not in the mood to deal with you right now." @owen-jackson

[owen-jackson]

Fuck it was hot in there, why was it so hot? Jackson tugged on the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, feeling confused yet again about his current circumstances. His head hurt, he knew that much, and it was really fucking hot and was starting to smell a little like something had crawled into the vents and died. Why was he in the library anyways? He'd realize afterwards, the amount of patience Noah must have had with him, answering the same aggravated questions from Jackson over and over to ease his concussed confusion. But Noah wasn't there at that moment, and Jackson couldn't recall exactly where the reaper had gone, so when a (thankfully) nice guard informed him gently that no, he couldn't leave the library, that Jackson wandered off and found himself sitting in a chair in the corner, zoning out and picking at a spot where his shirt was ripped--how'd that happen anyways?

He hadn't heard Atticus approach him, and only raised his eyes when the other spoke, a faint look of confusion crossing his face.

"You were?" He asked, moving out of the chair with little resistance, entirely out of character for the human when it came to Atticus. His gaze traveled over the other, making a little face.

"You look like shit, what happened to you?" He asked as if he didn't look equally terrible.