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Welcome to Hell.

I feel big Cat when she moves, when she strips away that first layer. Her scent hits me like a brick to the face. A challenge issued without words.

BUT I can not move yet. I literally cannot move yet.

I have to stay here and find a piece of control before I shatter.

E moves to stand beside me, his body just far enough away to not become an overt threat that I need to dispatch. His voice, his words...he is worried. Fuck I am worried. For lots of reasons, for things no one here will ever know.

My eyes move to caress his face...but JUST my eyes.

I don't want to touch him.

Soldier or not, MALE or not.

I might hurt him if I do...so I can't.


"There is nothing you can do, my friend. Sometimes the center can not hold. Sometimes a wolf is just a wolf and no amount of home training will ever make her a dog....that is what i feel like today."
 
I'm the one that growls.

"Don't you ever want to be anything else. You are a beautiful woman, because you are a beautiful wolf. Both inside and out, and everything that means. If you were anything else I would not seek you so."

Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm angry. The violence, the wildness that possesses her is part of her and the idea that she should try to tame and change any part of her makes me angry. I want to grab her, to make her make the mistake she refuses herself, but I stay my hand. It is not my choice to make.

"I don't like this," I simply say and keep my eyes on the fire.
 
She pushes open a door, finding a gym space. A slight smile touches her lips and she tosses her leather jacket aside. She slips her hands into a pair of gloves and briefly takes a few laps around the gym to warm her body up. She needed it long, limber, ready...After a few quick stretches, she slips on a sports bra and starts on the heavy bag. She focuses a great deal on her form. Each jab and cross causing her body to turn, shoulders to square, hips to align...
 
A soft sigh at the anger I feel bubbling beneath his surface.

I want to reassure him, let him know that I understand his anger on my behalf. That I relish this, even if it is just words, even if it is just here, in this place. But I find myself fearful of releasing the shattered bits of myself that I am holding together without benefit of glue.


"I don't like it either, love. On that you may depend. Sometimes, rarely, but sometimes~ I wish I were closer to the tamed dog...and less an untamed wild thing. Not because I don't like what I am, but because what i am makes control very difficult to hold on to when one is lost in the trenches...like I am, right now."

A soft huff of laughter, voice husky, laughter bright and tinkling, a lie.

"I know you understand that. Seems to me you have the same problem...control, needing it, requiring it, HAVING to keep it, take it. Daily. Your career choices, the things that you do means that you can not escape what you are, anymore than I can. Only difference i can see is that you are willing and able to let go of it, here, if no where else...whereas I...I can not even give up control in fantasy land...not unless it's a story as far removed from me as I can make it...."

One small hand reaches out, strokes an arm, a cheek...before retreating...I had seen the nails glint and sharpen...and I couldn't give the softness I ached to give and receive from him.

"No worries, E. I will soldier on, because that is what I do, without the benefit of Uncle Sam to make it worthwhile."

A shrug.

"Soon enough, I will be back to myself...or as close to it as I can fake...."
 
"You paint me as much more than I am."

I leave the fire and leave her. If I was better I would do something different, but I'm not.
 
I watch him go.

And flop down into a chair, huffing out a short sigh.

THIS is why I stay away from people.

I always use the wrong words.
 
She works herself to a decent sweat an realizes she brought no water with her. A habitual error, she stops and walks back to the main room. She raises an eyebrow as she sees a departed male. She passes the wolf and leans over the bar, grabbing a bottle of water for herself. She turns, opens it, and looks back at the wolf. She says nothing for a while before she pushes off an stops in front of the wolf. She extends her hand down, a lean, muscled arm tensed.

Come on. We'll go hit things...or we will go hunt. You can run with me and we will find your center, that control you cling to as much as me...
 
Five feet nothing comes up from the chair like there is a spring in her ass. Honey brown eyes focus on big Cat, blocking out all other sights, refusing to inhale any other scent.

Voice, when it speaks, is quiet, edged, fading, tired.

"Wish I could, love...I can't. I am gonna retreat to the real world for a while. Obviously, I am shit company...with a shitty outlook and a really shitty attitude..."

One small hand grasps a big Cat's beckoning hand before she departs into reality.
 
I come back here.

My Haven doesn't suit, but this place seems to.

In reality I am drinking slow gin~cold and straight from the bottle. So I bring it with me...so that i can indulge here as well, at least until my fingers stop being able to type coherently.

I crave interaction.

I won't get it...because I can not interact right now...

but I crave it.

So I sit here and sip my drink and fill my head with thoughts of pain.
 
Music...this is Kitty's Hell but I need music...loud...something to move the pain away from me and make it something else.

So...

Crawling~Linkin Park

It pulses in direct contrast to the flames that flicker along the walls.

I tilt my head back and scream the words at an uncaring ceiling.
 
I can breathe now...and I need to put the alcohol away before I fall into the pit of drinking and thinking and popping...pills.

SO here...and in reality....I put the sloe gin away and reach for ice cold water and something to nibble on.

The anger has given way to blankness. Better for everyone, I think. As the anger is unpredictable. Blankness just is.

The lap top reappears.

I owe for E and PGoD.

I will attempt to write them now.

While I still have some clarity.
 
The shadow form of the Tigress' cat stalks through the darkness, curling into Luna's shadow, the quiet guardian resting softly behind her.
 
The scent of musk and fur and Cat drifts through the air. I sigh softly, whisper a thank you and allow my fingers to begin the dance that will lead me away from myself.
 
Back from the real world. Back from work and the cold and the gym. A wolfling wanders into hell, dressed for comfort~big baggy sweat pants, black reebok classics, a black fitted tee.

she doesn't bother to look for anyone as she is sure no one is about. Instead, she heads for the corner of the main level where Plexy's feather bed is kept and slips into the comfort it offers.

Her bottle of water, lap top and pad and paper follow behind her like well trained puppies, settling down in their appointed places while she adjusts pillows and whatnot for her personal comfort.

Soon enough, the low strains of Mozart's Requiem fill the area.
 
The real world's noise detracts from her enjoyment of the words that meander across her screen. She would like to shoot the noise makers but alas, that is against the law...
 
Returning from doing the mommy thing in the real world, my head throbbing and pounding. I want...something. I just don't know...what. I hate that.
 
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