theresalwayshope | Entries tagged with the boy who runs with wolves

[VIDEO; public]

[When the feed kicks in, Allison is in the corridor, clearly in the middle of walking. Duchess is on her shoulder, per the usual, but she's getting big enough that Allison has to keep her steady with one hand because she's afraid of the little rabbit falling off. She spent the night in Tig's cabin (and the night before in Duke's, she still can't face her own cabin at night by herself), so she's not looking as raw as she has been lately.

In fact...she actually looks like something resembling normal, if a little sedate.]

So, I just went out on deck...and I think we're in Europe. I only took a peek, but...yeah. My home planet and everything. [She pauses, allowing her to reach into her pocket for a few bills, which she brandishes at the camera.]

The cash the Admiral left is also a clue. Euros.

[Pocketing her money again, her hand returns to Duchess to steady her as she continues walking.]

Anyway, I have some shopping to do, but the rest of my time is totally free. Lydia, you're coming, the stuff on this list that the Admiral gave me versus cash in hand means we can do a little bit of shopping instead of just shopping. Duke? You can help me shop. Unless you wanna shop, I still owe you for the Devil Juice I stole from you.

Anyone that wants to hang can buzz me. After the last four weeks, all bets are off. I have one serious plan for this port: fun.

[Private to Tig Trager]

My stuff is everywhere, so I'm running around collecting Duchess's things, mostly...meet me in my cabin in twenty minutes if you want to go ashore. Give me five minutes to be warden-ly, and I'll make it worth your while.

[Private to Isaac Lahey]

We're spending at least three quarters of this trip together. No less than half. I don't care if we're just standing on a bridge somewhere, staring at the water, we're doing this.

[PORT SPAM]

[Allison's first day in Amsterdam consists of wandering, for the most part. She rents herself a bike, does a little shopping, and pokes her head into various corners to get a lay of the land. She also makes the decision not to stay aboard ship during the port, and with a little extra cash pilfered from the strongbox in the study, she gets herself a bed at a local hostel in Vondelpark for the next four days. It's noisy and jostling, but it's clean and bright and the park is perfect scenery.

She realizes quickly that the second day is a full moon, so she knows she probably won't see the boys from home. She sends messages to Lydia, Duke, Stiles, Kira, and Tig with invitations to shop and/or eat. That night, she doesn't return to the hostel...she spends it in Vondelpark proper, stretched out on the grass, watching the night sky...and listening.

She doesn't know where the boys are, exactly...it's been a long time since any of them have seen a full moon, for the most part...but she hopes for the sound of a wolf's distant howl to put her at ease.

On her third day and fourth day, along with wrapping up some shopping for the list the Admiral provided, Allison sets aside some time for museums. Most of her friends will receive a text invitation, and those that join her will be dragged to at least one art museum, maybe two. Among her plans, however, those that join her will visit the Rembrant House and the Museum of Bags & Purses. Later on, however, when she's alone very late on either the third or fourth day, she sends a text message to Isaac for a potential trip to the SexMuseum.]

Current Mood: cheerful

[Public Video]

[The first thing that's clear, to anyone that knows Allison from home, is that something's...off. Her expression is a little harder, her jaw set a little differently, and he's holding herself with a little more authority, a little more readiness.

She seems a little more not like the head of the Argent clan they know, but the head of the Argent clan that Gerard molded in his own image.]

That pillow fort flood was kind of interesting, but I wanted to kinda touch base about the stuff before that. The..communications glitch thing? I was curious: who all did everyone get to talk to? Was it good for you? Or was it...rough?

[She's in the CES today, where off to one side, she's been visibly busy putting arrows in the trees. The location resembles a clearing in the Beacon Hills Preserve she favors for shooting, since it's a pretty broad clearing with a minimal risk of someone taking a stray shot unless they plant themselves directly in front of the paper target she's got tacked up. At the same time, she swears she can occasionally catch the cold, crisp smell of brine in the air...she's blaming her recent conversations with Duke about his hometown in Maine and her own distant memories of a couple months spent living in Augusta.

Her comm is propped on a low tree branch, which is still almost at head height, but she's standing back far enough that she can be seen to the waist, at a slightly downward angle. Her bow is slung across her back, her quiver over one shoulder, and she's still wearing both her arm guard and her glove.]

I know it was kinda nice for some, and for others...

[She trails off, thinking of Tig as she swallows thickly, and of her father as she draws a shaky sigh. Her expression is a little colder, a little more distant.

She doesn't finish. Instead, she gathers her composure and swaps between filters for a few specific messages.]

( [Private to Mindy Macready] )

( [Barge Pack Filter - includes Beacon Hills folks, Duke Crocker, Tig Trager, Needy Lesnicki] )

( [Private to Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Isaac] )

( [CES Spam] )

Current Mood: distressed

[PUBLIC - Video]

[When the feed clicks on, Allison is in her bedroom in her cabin. She's sitting cross-legged, hair mussed and still in her pajamas, having clearly just woken up. She's also wearing a cardigan that some parties may recognize as being pilfered from a certain new werewolf arrival's room, but she's not talking about that right now. She's smiling, and she looks pretty sleepy...but she also looks pretty darn happy.]

Morning, Bargees. [She grins, wrinkling her nose cutely.] I haven't really checked in with peeps since port, so I just wanted to see how everyone was doing.

[She pauses, her expression still soft, but...a little more sober.]

I guess...I don't know, I've just been kind of thinking. A warden arrived recently that...made me stop to appreciate how lucky I am to have my pack here. See, werewolves in my world? They're stronger in packs, literally. And wolves without a pack? They're called Omegas. It's...the worst thing in the world a wolf can be. Alone, friendless...clawing, fighting to survive every day. And I hate to think that anyone on this ship...could be an Omega.

So...if this ship is a pack? Then no matter how alone you are, I'm your packmate. Warden, inmate, my door's always open. And it's not, like, pity or anything, or even sympathy, it's...I care. I really do.

[The sudden earnestness in her face is real, because she's having another of those moments she tries to hide from the pack: where she feels the weight of her own mortality. Her friends are going to save her, but...she's still sort of scheduled to die.

So are they all...and the sudden revelation makes her chest tight as she realizes that nobody, not anyone, deserves to be alone should the end ever come. Even on the Barge, where it can come a hundred times.

Allison will do anything to make sure that doesn't happen.]

( [Private - Vergil] )

( [Pack Filter] )

((pre-dated fourth wall day transmission, because tomorrow morning may be too hectic for me to get this up. :P))

Current Mood: calm

[PUBLIC VIDEO]

[Allison is still deathtolling in the infirmary, but she has her comm and she's not afraid to use it. It's been about two days: she hurts like hell, she's pale, and even after being resurrected from the dead, there's been a lot going on.

She's got a lot to do, and she faces it all with the brightest smile she can manage as the feed shows her, still in bed, and features still tight with pain she's fighting to hide, radiating from the puncture wound that stole her life...the wound that's no longer there.]

So...was that what you guys call a port? Because that...sucked. And not just because...[She falters over it, because regardless of the ship's metaphysical mechanics, there's something so wrong about saying it, enduring it...returning from it.]

...because I died.

[Drawing a shaky breath, she hides a wince as she goes too deep, tests her recovering body too much.]

I just wanted to let everyone know I'm here, I'm okay...and that anyone from Beacon Hills is on notice. If you know Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, or Scott McCall? Check in with them if you see them. Have they eaten, did they sleep...and if they haven't, make them. As soon as I can walk, I'm getting out of the infirmary, and it's going to be business as usual.

( [VIDEO, Pack Filter] )

( [VIDEO, private to Needy and Duke] )

( [VIDEO, private to Vergil Sparda] )

[DAY TWO - video]

[When Allison switches on her comm, the bright and friendly teenage girl the Barge had thus far seen is gone. She's pale, her eyes are shadowed, but she still manages to hold her head high with the strength of a soldier, the grace of a queen...and her shoulders slouch with the weight of a woman twice her age.

It's been a rough twenty four hours.]

This may be part for the course for most of you that have been on this ship for a while, but I'm new, and I don't like it. Now second level is full of some...toxic gas that induces hallucinations and...paranoid...

[She can still see the dozens of faces in her mind's eye...whispering, preparing to kill her with the cold and brutal efficiency she will never posses...the killer instinct that will make her a truly great leader...

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she refocuses on the camera.]

I don't care where you are on the ship. [Her tone is stronger, commanding.] If you need help, or you're getting others to safety, buzz me. I'm armed, and I've seen worse than this before. The infirmary is safe, I'll get as many people here as I can. I don't care if death is temporary here, nobody dies if I can help it...no one.

[Post-Death Spam]

[In the dark, it's quiet. It's still, it's peaceful...even tranquil.

In the dark, she is dreaming of the perfect day.

She's on the bridge with Scott again, just like it was on her seventeenth birthday...but it's not just him this time. Lydia and Stiles are there, and they're all smiling. Lydia and Stiles are arm in arm, and Scott is standing behind her, his arms around her waist and his nose buried behind her ear, sniffing and tickling until she squeals with laughter.

It's safety and love and the cool, crisp autumn air in her lungs. Nothing can hurt her here.

She turns her head to smile at Scott...but his smile is gone, and his mouth is stained with blood.

She turns to Stiles and Lydia...his shoulder is bleeding, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Only it's not silent...it's growing louder, high and piercing and painful. In her ears, her head...everywhere...

I came here to save them.

With a gasp, Allison's eyes flew open. A moment later, they screwed shut as pain invaded everything, turning her vision red behind closed eyelids...stealing the breath from her lungs again, with just enough left for one word...]

Stiles!...

Current Mood: crappy
Current Location: the infirmary