Better Living Through Chemicals Part 4:True Luv

Better Living Through Chemicals Part 4:True Luv

Khalid, Wyrm as st


This was a trap house in the southside of the city, known for the good shit, shit that fixes your whole day in and shit that makes the world a little less dark, about 6 months ago the word on the street is they are moving new shit. A brand new drug called the Dragon Maker, it is crack, mixed with a secret shit, that truly makes one go fuck yes, and it was great for getting your girl in the fucking mood, and then if you did it hours of shit.

He'd listened to the others for a while, and listened, incidentally, to the spirits. Khaled was still new to this and it was all weird, but...he kind of knew in his heart that, despite his outward disinterest in them, if he wasn't close to this pack then he would probably end up dead and alone. He wasn't precisely sure -why- he acted like this...18 years old, don't have the most self-reference...but it was particularly a note left by this Alex that led him here. He'd changed into a gray hoodie and bluejeans, wearing a scarf against the cold, pair of headphones connected to his phone hanging around his music of course. Needed to be completely, totally aware, eyes open. Watching for anything. True to his nature, Khaled managed to sort of...blend in. Bleed into the surroundings. Just another neighborhood kid really, nevermind the way he's coming closer to the the crackhouse, doing a circle of the permiter casually.

There is a girl coming out of the house now her hands deep in her hoody, small, with a wicked look on her face. He had not seen her since the change, her hair is short chopped down with a bite of her lip. Her hands are dripping with blood, her nails are short chopped as her eyes narrow back and forth taking it all in."Stupid mother fuckers." Her voice is harsh, and then the smell of blood is filling the world of the house, as if something or someone died in there not long ago.

In a few short seconds Khaled's mission had changed. Thoughts of Amie and her sharp, if surly grin, disappeared in the face of Lana, his heart giving a throb and melting a little bit. The fuck was she doing here...why? "Lana..." he breathed, eyes widening, stopping at a bus stop wearing the Dalu and watching her with an intent glare. Should he go talk to her? Like...what if she tried to hurt him? The young Irraka's impulses overwhelmed him. Here, a bridge to his old life, corrupted as it was. He had been walking in the Near-Man, tall, powerful form taking in every inch of detail here...but instinct and impulse told him to take his Human shape again.

What was she doing here? Was Patel involved? He wanted to call out to her but instead he just waited and watched, blended into the environment.

Lana is not there long her hood is pulled over her freshly dyed pink hair, her hands are thrust deep into her pockets. As she is heading away from it, and then 2 minutes later the building erupts into flame, burning it was later linked to the undercity, but he watches as she smiles at the flames, she did this he knows it, what had changed in this girl?

She is going towards the main highway, and then she is almost vanishes it seems this a trick, of the light or the building design. She is gone down a side alley, and then another he is able to follow her, until they are in the deepest part of the southside, somewhere, one is not safe. Violence is rising around them, hate,murder, bodies, homeless, killings, this is it the place for the monsters to hide. She is walking towards a broken down bar, as she opens it with a quick swipe of a card ,but the door does not close properly.

Khaled followed at a safe distance, keeping away from her to prevent her from picking up his scent. God he wanted to go up and talk to her, to take her hand and ask her what the hell was happening but again...he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to get killed or captured, or...what if those people were right? What if it was really truly as dangerous out there as they said, and every action could be his last?

What if he fucked them up or hurt them with his irresponsibility?

Cub or no cub. He wasn't going to get caught. He followed her into the deep parts of the ghetto and beyond...damn he didn't go around here, no intelligent Chicagoan with a choice did. Khaled watches the door...seeing a chance he moves toward it carefully, making sure he's not being watched, peeking inside after Lana, slipping in if the coast was clear but not before sliding a bit of trash between the door and the frame to keep it from fully closing...

Khaled's senses had was like they'd enhanced yes, but he could -zero them in-. He didn't realize that his ear canals, eyes, and nose were making tiny minute adjustments to their size, thickness, and depth depending on situation, picking up every bit of perceptual data that might be relevant. He took a seat in the back of the gross old club, pulling his phone out and marking this coordinate on his MAP program, synced to his mail account. At the least he'd be able to find this place again.

He felt...kinda cool. Like he was this fuckin' shadow warrior spy, listening to some dirty, evil fuckin' plans. He found himself getting really into it, eyes widening. 'Kill the Uratha...the fuck was he talkin' about.' Khaled carefully slipped his Pixel out of his pocket, opening the camera to take a shot of this beardy hipster lookin' nerd...not that he had a thing against hipsters, or nerds, or anyone for their fashion sense really...but what the fuck was he talking about?

Clearly his patience had been rewarded. In fact, this was probably far more useful than whatever essence or junk he might have hoped to impress Amie and company with. "Let's figure out who you are later..." he whispered below his breath, slipping his phone back in his pocket, listening for anything else pertinent before slipping away...trying to track Lana.

"Hello my memebers of the fire, and the secret within in the heart of this city, corrupted, horrible, and all ours. I'm your host once again Maxwell, as you each know. I see a new face, I need you in my roomie cutie pie." The man in the tight vest, with all that is steampunk coming off him says, in a voice of malice, fear and hate as he leaps up on the back of the throne it matches the look steampunk, but as the boy looks closer it is made from bones of wolves, man, and other form of the urtaha mixed as tips it over knocking it down into pieces, as he looks."Get the super glue, that better be fixed before my nut is cools in her, you got 3 hours, and if your outta bone hunt down them running pure." His voice is filled with joy, Lana is stares down at the floor as that man is grips her hair, yanking her towards the stairwall.

Khaled found himself in a situation that had no proper answer for. He'd learned a lot...a name...a face...a place. A scent, and better yet he had Lana's blood. But now...

She was being taken away to be violated by this man. Tormented. Raped, hurt, something -bad- that would damage her. He froze, stopped breathing, as everything became intensely focused. Tunnel vision, bright red. He stood up smoothly...quickly, his outline jagged as Fenrir's fire was stoked in his heart. His eyes gleamed, two little white dots at the center as he watched Lana being taken up the stairs, away from him, into the heart of this place.

"Lana...Lana no, no no..." he whispers, taking a step forward, but his mind flashed with images of Checkers. Rosa. Sheridan.


He hated them. He sealed that in his heart as he watched Lana get taken away from him, narrowing his eyes. He turned away and stiffly walked out into the night air. He walked and walked, and walked until he was good and lost within the alleys and slammed his fist against a brick wall, letting out a scream of despair as he beat his knuckles broken and collapsed sobbing against it for his cowardice.

<TXT> From Lana to Khaled: I have a boyfriend now, lose my number