Topic: Aftershock: Keirra's homecoming.

Keirra Owens

Date: 2017-09-09 01:53 EST
The rogue was home, or at least a place she'd once called such. Now, nothing felt like home. She wasn't sure what was worse, either" The constant feeling that she might get left alone and taken again?or the relentless eyes of her housemates and friends, checking in to make sure she hadn't fallen apart yet. The girl was on the verge, that much was painfully apparent. Had anyone in that house slept at all" Between the persistent worry and Keirra's late night pacing, the answer was more than likely obvious. She hadn't, that was for damn sure. Dark circles had taken seemingly permanent residence beneath those icy, dead eyes.

Zim had been doing better, at least. She'd stayed in her rarer form, and had been walking about the house now. Though she'd done well to give Keirra her space, as well as Freya. It was the boys who seemed to worry; though both girls did seem on alert.

After having locked herself in the bathroom, Keirra moved to crouch in front of the sink, a cigarette hanging from her mouth. She opened the door to the little cubby and sorted through the cleaning products, behind them is where she'd stashed a bottle of vodka. Plopping down on her butt and plucking the stick from her lips, she took a long drink and let her eyes roll shut. One drink led to five, and finally she stood to open the medicine cabinet. Of course, Dorian had taken away all the good stuff"anything that she could take too much of?or maybe it was the other one, or Zver. Either way, it was gone, and it left her slamming the cabinet door shut with a huff.

Eyes met herself in the mirror, and what she truly saw was a complete mystery. She seemed to be meeting her own gaze, and in her head, Sawyer's words repeated back to her. Wincing, she tore her eyes away, yanking open the door so that the mirror was directed at anything but herself. She sighed softly and pulled open the drawer, smoking the last of the cigarette and letting it fall to the sink. Those dead eyes fell on a single pair of scissors resting in the drawer, forgotten. Lifting them, she stared for a long moment before moving over to the bathtub and cutting off the water. The booze, cigarettes, and scissors were set on the edge of the tub, and a soft sigh escaped her. She didn't bother to take off her clothes before stepping into the water.

Keirra sat down and went right for the booze, draining a good portion of the liquor down her throat before she brought her knees up to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. She bit back a sob and reached to set the bottle down, trading it for the scissors. She opened them up and traced her finger along the blade.

A deep breath was taken in as she pointed the tip of the blade to that already marred, scarred wrist. A shuddering breath as well as a whimper was uttered out as she pressed it in and blood began seeping out and running down the side of her arm.

One quick yank up the street.

That's all it would take"

Keirra trembled lightly, her bloodshot, red eyes stared as the red stream changed directions and dropped into the water. Then, perhaps out of mercy for those that loved her"though she couldn't see why at the time'she pulled the blade away and took in a shivering breath. "I'm so useless..? she whispered to herself.

Her eyes rolled shut again before she brought the blades up.

Shnnpp!

Raven locks fell into the water that surrounded her. That sound continued to ring out until her hair was a choppy mess about shoulder-length. When she was satisfied with it, she tossed the scissors and let them clatter across the bathroom floor.

Then she lit up, trading hit for shot.

Keirra Owens

Date: 2017-09-11 00:17 EST
Sitting on the couch, Zver had noticed the subtle changes in him. For one thing, the rise of his body temperature that his scrawny ass didn't usually have. Sitting on the couch with his shirt off and jeans on, he was almost getting swallowed by the cushions and his fingers stroked through the platinum hair that was splattered across his lap. The naked girl in her rare form, resting her head in his lap. His eyes trailed down to the bruising of her ribs that he took care not to touch. Dragging his eyes back to the meaningless television programs that was the only source of light in the room aside from the smoldering cherry of his cigarette that periodically rose up to his lips.

Keirra had managed to escape his eye sight, since she'd given him a look when she got up, telling him she was going to go pee and he didn't need to be there for that. Reluctantly, he'd eased back - not hard for him to do with a grumbling not-wolf on his lap. But that'd been what felt like ages ago. "What's taking her so long to piss?" He mumbled, almost grumbling himself as his head turned to eye the stairs. He'd heard the clattering of something metal and his lips pulled into a frown around the filter of the second cigarette. His eyes looked up to the second floor landing and he studied it for a moment. "Ko"..."

"Sorry, Zim. Gonna have to wait," he mumbled, his hands guiding her head off his lap as he slid out from under it, standing to his feet. Bending at the waist, he plucked the filter from his lips to stub it out on the ashtray on the coffee table. Straightening, he turned for the stairs..

..And that's when it hit him. Pennies. His nostrils twitched with the scent that spilled into his senses, and it took him a moment to register what it was. His eyes widened slowly as he realized what that scent was. "Blood..." He muttered, panic sending his heart thumping in his chest before he was bolting for the stairs, his hand gripping the railing as he vaulted himself forward with it, clambering up the stairs. "Ko!" He called, racing up the stairs and toward the bathroom door. Reaching it, his palm smacked against the wood. "Ko! Open the door," he called through it.

Zim didn't grumble or bitch when Zver moved away from her. She lifted her head, and then plopped it right back into the cushion. Bitch was lazy, but could she be blamed" After all, she'd spent the past month worrying over Ko, and Zver. A deep breath was taken, and she winced lightly as her chest expanded, before sighing it out. When Zver spoke out, her brow furrowed. She didn't panic and chase after him, instead, she just listened. It wasn't as if she could be any help in the situation. What was she gonna do' Dial 911"

Keirra hadn't moved much, basking in the warmth of the water that she'd surely regret once she had to peel those wet clothes off of herself. She had taken a lean against the back of the tub, eyes fluttering shut. Relaxation wasn't a thing that came to her anymore. Every time she tucked away those icy orbs, she saw that wolfish grin. So, it wasn't long after they closed that they snapped back open. She was so tired...

The cigarette was brought to her lips, breathing out the smoke around the filter and puffing more in. Zver's hand met the door roughly, and the sound of the water would ring out as she jumped. Her heart panged in her chest as the startled rogue looked over. "I'm fine!" she yelled out. "I just...need a minute!" Panic surged through her, and she looked around. Then, yanked the curtain shut as if that would make him walk away. "I'm taking a bath!"



Zver might've thought about it a second too late, his panic making his head foggy as anxiety had a tendency to do. The pounding on the door ceased as his palm pressed to the door, leaning toward it as he listened through it. The sloshing of the water and yelling from her had his brows furrowed. "...I thought you had to piss," said Detective Fuzzass. "Did you miss?" He snickered, but his lips pressed together in a slow exhale. "Ko, what was that sound?" He hated playing cop, confiscating all of her sharp objects, but Ko was a strict No Pointy Things life style lately. Sighing, he didn't know how to explain to her that he could smell the blood. "Just....open the door, Sugar Puss. I don't wanna go Here's Johnny, but I'll go get the ax if I have to." Okay, so he wouldn't actually do that as skittish as she was. But that curly head going here's Zver! was kinda funny. He looked down to the doorknob, the door, considering just....knocking the door down. Can I" Can I hulk out and Koolaid Man this shit" OH YEAH!

Yeah, she didn't like the no pointy thing rule...buuuut, she did just kind of prove she wasn't to be trusted. They'd missed one, though, unfortunately. Thankfully, she'd come to her senses before she did any significant damage. Sure, she'd stabbed herself pretty good, but not in a lethal spot. It would heal. The rogue sighed, because he was going to come in whether she wanted him to or not. Still—as funny as it would be—if he could not ax the door, that'd be greeaattt. "It's a simple lock," she finally spoke out, taking another drag of that cigarette. "Just stick something skinny and sturdy through the hole on the knob and it'll pop open," said the lockpick. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to get into places she wasn't supposed to. Getting out of them, though....

They had valid reason for it. He didn't like it either. He was never the type to put his foot down, tell someone how to live their life, but when she seemed adamant on not living her life.....that was something else altogether...Leave it to Ko to teach him something new. Zver wasn't the rogue type. He was the type to break into something with brute force without being sneaky about it. You knew that fucker was comin'. Looking down to the lock, his eyes lifted to the ceiling as he might've cursed a few people in his head for the fuck of it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocket knife. He didn't know the lock pick trick she'd just told him, but he knew how to jam a thin blade through the slit of the door and pry that bitch open.

So that's exactly what he did. He didn't feel much for finding a safety pin or bobby pin to mess around with the lock. Leaning his shoulder against the door, he slid the knife between the door and the jam where the mechanism kept it closed and used Science (bitch!) to pop it open, pressing with his shoulder as he almost stumbled inside. Catching himself on the door knob, he looked to the tub with the closed curtain and closed the pocket knife, slipping it into his pocket. Detective Fuzzass took notice that there were no clothes on the floor and his brows furrowed, his other hand leaving the knob to curl around the curtain and slid it back. "...What the fuck?"

The rogue had hidden behind the curtain, not because she didn't want to see him. The opposite. She didn't want him to see her. Pulling her sleeve over her arm, she tried to hide the evidence, but...yeah. There was hair in the tub, blood in the water, and scissors on the floor. How was it that he was the one that ended up in prison"...."...I didn't hear that lock pop..." she muttered, like he was the one on trial here.

When he peeled back the curtain she looked up at him, cigarette half way in her mouth. "...hi," she muttered softly. She....didn't have an explanation. Didn't hear that lock pop because he....did not pop lock and drop it. He crammed it in, wiggled it around and pried that shit. Y'know, how he usually does things. The almost innocent way she greeted him didn't match what he saw behind the curtain. Still clothed, with hair and blood in the tub, scissors on the floor and looking like a drowned rat. His brow slowly rose as he took it all in.

....and walked the fuck out mumbling about craycray.

Okay, so he didn't do that. But he did look absolutely perplexed. Her hair was shorter and choppy, and the blood in the tub hinted to an injury that she was trying to cover up with the sleeve. Honestly, he didn't call her out on self mutilation, because while she didn't have an explanation, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear she wanted to end her life. But it wasn't just the loss of her that he was terrified of. Crouching down beside the tub, he reached out slowly with viable notice of his intent as he pinched a piece of those choppy locks between his fingers with a sigh. "..If you wanted your hair cut, you could've just asked Dorian," he muttered, but his other hand was held out. "Lemme see it, Ko," he nodded his chin to her wrist. He wasn't happy, but yelling and making a suicide risk feel like shit was just stupid.

Keirra Owens

Date: 2017-09-11 00:30 EST
If he had walked out and mumbled about her being craycray, she probably wouldn't have blamed him. Eyes shifted up to him, and she let out a sigh. "It was...a spur of the moment decision," she said. Dorian would still probably have to fix it. It was uneven in various parts, and a mess. She looked down at his other hand and sighed, "...can I get out first?" It wasn't a no fuq u answer, at least' Though she might've preferred the yelling. The fact that everyone was treating her with kid gloves somehow made it worse.

"Well, it definitely wasn't thought through," he agreed, but the slight smirk on his face said he was giving her shit. "...Need a touch up but," he tilted his head, looking at the new cut. "I kinda dig it," he admitted. "Makes you look edgy," he ticked his brows, but the mention of getting out of the tub had him nodding and pulling out of his crouch to take a step back. The fact it wasn't a no fuq u answer was nice, because it meant he didn't have to fight her about it. Reaching into one of the cabinets, he fetched her a towel and held it out for her. "Some advice?" He looked at her, and he looked absolutely serious.

"....Baths are more effective without the clothes." That was when his lips twitched. Ass.

Smiling was an effort for her, as empty as it was forced. Still, she did it, she painted her face with that false amusement, because she loved that bastard. Even if she felt like she was broken, the love for him was still there. "That's what I was going for," she said, while he fetched her a towel. He offered her advice and she raised those eyebrows before shaking her head. "...have you ever taken a bath with clothes?" It was like a full body rag, man! Just put some soap on 'em and flop around! Taking the towel, she laid it on the side of the tub and put her cigarette out. The curtain was pulled again, because she didn't want him to see her body.

Clothes were pulled off, and thankfully they were loose otherwise it would've been quite the effort. Taking the towel, she wrapped it around her skinny body and tucked it so it would stay. It was then that she stepped out slowly and sat on the toilet. Finally, she held that wrist out to him. It was still bleeding, but it wasn't as bad as it looked. She'd punctured it pretty good, but the bleeding was more due to the fact that she had a heavy amount of alcohol in her system.

It was fake as hell, but it helped - even just a tiny bit. "Knew it. At least you weren't going for cancer patient," the terrible bastard joked. "I mean, Dorian would have a fucking field day finding you fashionable scarves but.." He shook his head. "Bath' No. Been swimming with 'em on though." He shivered. "So much chaffing.." The memory wasn't a pleasant one. He let go of the towel when she grabbed it, and when she pulled the curtain, it wasn't too much of a blow. He was still used to it from after she had Boulder.

While she worked out of those soaked clothes, he picked up the scissors and looked at them. Fucking scissors. The one damn thing we didn't stash away. Shaking his head, he slipped them into his pocket before leaning against the sink as she got undressed in the tub. Arms crossed, they uncrossed again when she came out of the tub in the towel and sat down. His eyes found the wound when she held out her arm and he moved to her, crouching to balance on the balls of his feet to get a better look at the wound. The scent of the blood was intense this close to it, without being diluted from the water and her clothing, but up close, it was almost mouth-watering....something he didn't want to think about. He cleared his throat and tentatively took her wrist to tilt it, looking it over. "It's not too bad." Between the alcohol and water spreading out the blood, he did that awkward crouch-sidestep to the drawer for the First Aid Kit. "Might need a couple stitches in it, though," he glanced over to her. "You good with me doin' it?" pulling out the box and did that awkward walk back over to her.

For the record, if Dorian was gonna buy anything it better be wigs!

Keirra looked to the bathroom door, and then back to him with those dead eyes. She hadn't a clue that he found her blood mouth-watering...oh right because he hadn't told her he was a wolf! Though the decision was probably a good one, because the bitch couldn't handle anymore changes right now. Not with everything else that was different in her life. She watched him, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for him to ask her if she was stupid, but it never came. The worst part was when he asked permission to stitch up her wound. The old Zver would've sat on her and told her to hold still. "Go ahead," she muttered softly, eyes shifting to the bath water.

Honestly, Zver was a lot more calm on the outside than he was on the inside. Internally, he was screaming. What the fuck were you thinking"! How is that going to make any of this better" It won't make it go away. It won't stop what happened. It won't change a fucking thing but make Boulder motherless and....He swallowed hard to the thought that he couldn't even think. A large part of him would've wanted to sit on her, pin her down, tell her to shut up and stop being a little bitch about it if she'd told him no. But....if she screamed, if she freaked out...like he was Sawyer. Like he was the one doing those things to her, he didn't know how he'd take it. He simply nodded, opening the box on his lap as he set to work stitching up the hole in her wrist.

It hadn't taken long, the puncture wound was more a stab than a slice, and it was mostly just closing up the wound than anything else. He'd stitched her up, patched her up with gauze and tape. He didn't talk much while he worked, shutting the box when the excess tools were put back in their places. It wasn't until he put the box back in the drawer that he crouched there for a moment, quiet before he stood and looked over to her. "Should probably have Dorian fix that chop job." He nodded his head toward the door, turning for it before he paused. "And you're officially on Watch," he informed her over his shoulder. "Get pissed as much as you want, but I can't trust you to take a piss by yourself." And with that, he walked out of the bathroom to go hide the scissors.

The rogue couldn't even look at him during. Bad pherbull....There was guilt and shame written all over her face, but the fact that she'd stopped and came to her senses had been apparent by the wound. The intent was there by the stab, but there was no follow-through. Keirra didn't get pissed when he said those words, dry eyes blinked shut and she gave a single nod before reaching for the bottle. "...fine...but I draw the line at taking a shit..." she muttered softly, it was some attempt at a joke, but there wasn't much behind it. Monotone and empty....

When he left, she moved after him, then broke away to get to her bed. The bottle hung from her hand as she moved over to it, crawling in and laying down, flat on her back and sprawled. Sleeeep. She tried to will herself.

There was some relief there. That she'd stopped herself. That they didn't have to do it for her. Part of him looked at it from a psychological perspective that she did want to live after all, but it didn't mean he wouldn't watch her any less intensely. His lips twitched to her monotone joke, and he shook his head. "Believe me....no one wants that Watch shift," he teased her lightly before he'd walked out.

She disappeared to the bedroom, and Zver went to break the news to Dorian. You're welcome, bitch.

Edited from play with the wonderful Zver. <3 Thanks for being amazing~