Welcome to Rift, a post-apocalyptic werewolf roleplay set in Point Grey, on the University of British Columbia's campus. We play by liquid time and we're R-rated for the possibility of violence and language. Please have a look through the navigation links to learn more!
She looked cold, so he'd given her his flannel jacket as they walked back to his house. The fog made the campus thick and dark without the old street-lamps that used to light the walkways.
Scott never fully got used to being awoken in the middle of the night, but he was functional enough.
"Come on then," he'd said to Jordan back at Gage, patting her on the shoulder and leading her out of the building.
It had been a few years since he'd had a student. The job never ended, though.
Scott kept their path clear away from Vanier quietly, navigating the maze of rusted sculpture to eventually nudge her up to his porch and hold the front door open. A crank lantern rested on a table right next to the door, and he turned it on.
Everything was well-furnished, a home instead of the white drywall hallways and rooms of Gage. "This is where you'll stay until you have control, okay? First rule of the house is you can't leave without me or Nik or the Beta, when we get one. Come on, the hallway isn't gonna bite you."
The night was cold, so very cold. Jordan already felt chilled to the bone, and it wasn't just from the weather. It seemed years ago when she and Roman had taken a walk, despite the fact that it had only been mere hours. How quickly things had changed. Now she felt like a betrayer, like a prisoner. She wondered if Dice or Roman... or even Nik would ever look at her the same way again. Jordan stared at the ground, her mind racing, though her thoughts seemed sluggish. She numbly took the flannel jacket that Scott gave her, pulling it over her tattered clothes and dirt stained body. Her wrist had been bandaged up again and hung in a sling to keep it from moving or jostling.
The coat helped enormously, but Jordan was cold, numb... in shock. Nikola had been kind about what had happened but she couldn't help but feel she had been banished... for good reason. She was dirty, exhausted and ashamed of herself. How could she do this to those who had taken her in? Jordan couldn't help but scold herself for not being strong enough to stop the monster inside of her. Her wolf side was uneasy, afraid. Neither of them knew this man who was apparently now her keeper. The few familiarities Jordan had here, in this place, in this life, had been torn from her.
Raggidly, Jordan climbed up to the porch. She kept her head down as Scott opened the door. He had been prodding her the entire way. Jordan was tense, afraid, and unsure. Further, she felt utterly helpless and weak. She had no control in this situation, had no lifeboat. It was as if she had been flung into the unknown, after having just discovered a horrible mind inside of her. The wolf in her balked at entering the house. Though Nikola had said she was pack... Jordan and her wolf did not seem to believe him. She still felt as an outsider among the Kahlites... a stranger who did not belong. So instead of smelling the familiar scent of pack, Jordan once again smelled a pack that she did not feel she belonged to.
"This is where you'll stay until you have control, okay? First rule of the house is you can't leave without me or Nik or the Beta, when we get one. Come on, the hallway isn't gonna bite you." It was a good thing that Scott kept his voice soft and kind, because Jordan felt as if she wanted to bolt, whether she was drop-dead exhausted or not. But she was exhausted, and numb. She stumbled a little as she went into the house. Jordan pulled the jacket tighter around her, seeking comfort, but was once more buffeted by the smell of this stranger to her. Jordan stood there, staring at the floor, waiting for her next direction from Scott.
Scott understood the hesitation. She probably had a million places she'd rather be. And like it or not, she was stuck here, like a small child. Well, she was, in were-terms. New and out of control, unused to her abilities or the culture. Probably barely able to fully comprehend the innate language.
"Jordan, hey, look at me real quick." He came inside, shutting the door and trying to catch her eyes for just a second. Not wanting to force her submissiveness, but trying to get her to see the human emotion in his own. Scott was of the crowd that firmly believed the human and the wolf inside were one and the same in a werewolf, not able to be shunted aside or blamed.
"I know you don't want to be here. But we've got to teach you how to be a were, for your safety and everyone else's. So you can control yourself when your body wants to hurt somebody."
It was hard for Jordan to trust, hard for her to open up after being shoved in amongst strangers. She was, well quite frankly, she was afraid. And she felt alone. It seemed her only friends were Dice, who she didn't see that often, and Roman, who after tonight had become more than a friend.
"Jordan, hey, look at me real quick." Jordan didn't know why she obeyed... but she did hear something in his voice that made her want to listen to him. Slowly she raised her gaze to look at him. There was nothing overly dominant in his look, instead it was more of trying to get her to understand. The look was purely human, and she realized she recognized it as such.
"I know you don't want to be here. But we've got to teach you how to be a were, for your safety and everyone else's. So you can control yourself when your body wants to hurt somebody."
"Y-you can do that?" Jordan whispered, wanting to believe, but deeply afraid of what she was. "I won't hurt anyone anymore?" The creatures inside of her seemed so much bigger than her, and her hopelessness seemed to show in her eyes. How could control such forces of nature within her? But with Scott's words and his gaze, the shock seemed to leave her, making her feel the brunt of her fear, loathing, and sickness of what she had done. The tears began to fall before she could stop them.
"I don't even know if I killed him," she whispered, looking away and trying to rub the tears away quickly with a dirty hand. Her cheeks were already stick with dried tears mixed with dirt. Somehow she still had more inside of her. "What if I killed him? What do I do?" Jordan hugged herself. "I'm not a murderer... I wasn't before.... why did I do this? I don't understand any of it." Nothing made sense anymore.
"I'm just like the one that attacked me and killed my father," she said, her voice full of nausea at the thought. Yes Roman had adamently told her differently, but it was true. She had gone after someone who had done nothing to her. An innocent.
"I don't understand any of this," she said again, almost choking on the words.
"Hey, whoa, hold on, it'll be okay," Scott soothed as Jordan started to cry, reaching for her shoulder. "You didn't kill him, they're gonna take care of him." That's what he'd been told, anyway. She'd been caught before the man was truly maimed, and with medical care he'd be no worse off than, say, a car accident.
"I don't understand any of this."
He shut the door, taking the wind-up lantern again.
"That's why you're here, I'm gonna tell you all about being a werewolf." The electric light cast down the dark hallway, pictures and wainscotting and wallpaper. Halfway down, the stairs lead off to the upstairs, the light throwing rays into the dark shadow of the second floor.
"And help you clean up. I've got a nice big tub up in the bathroom," he gestured upstairs with the lantern, tempting her, "When was the last time you had a hot soak?"
"Hey, whoa, hold on, it'll be okay," Scott soothed as Jordan started to cry, reaching for her shoulder. "You didn't kill him, they're gonna take care of him." Jordan felt him come up behind her, and suddenly felt his hand on her shoulder. She probably would have jerked away had she actually been aware of what was going on. But at the moment it was a much welcomed comfort. Then it was gone as he shut the door. She tried not to compare it to a jail door clanging closed.
"That's why you're here, I'm gonna tell you all about being a werewolf." Jordan looked up and around her as the dark shadows were chased back by the light he held. The decorations, from the pictures to the wallpaper, spoke of peaceful and simple times. That this was truly a home, Jordan had no doubt But still she felt unsteady.
"And help you clean up. I've got a nice big tub up in the bathroom," he gestured upstairs with the lantern, tempting her, "When was the last time you had a hot soak?"
"I..." Jordan blinked at the question and thought about it, truly thought about it. A soak? She had scrubbed herself off in rivers and streams, in showers... in all sorts of water. But to actually soak in a tub?
"Not since before the Snap," she admitted almost dully as she was shocked by this revelation. Obediently she followed Scott, still very wary and weary.
"Not since before the Snap," and she followed him.
Light spilled up the stairs and onto the landing, and the wood creaked slightly with their passing. Three doors lead off one way, and to the right was the bathroom door, with tile and porcelain glinting from the shadows. His face hinted at a smile, continuing to soften Jordan with his words and quiet calm presence.
"Well see, there you go, a bath is just what you needed the whole time. There isn't anything that can't be solved with a soak in the tub."
Stone tile floors, a granite counter-top and cream painted walls, the bathroom was comfortable and clean. A white cupboard opened to reveal a stash of soap, all of them wrapped carefully in wax paper, and also a stack of fluffy towels.
Setting the lantern on the counter, Scott grabbed his shaving and trimming tools and put them up at the top of a medicine cabinet, pulling out a fresh bar of soap and a toothbrush and even a scrubby sponge.
Girls like their soft scrubby sponges, he remembered. And when they're teetering on the bring of nervous breakdown, little things can tip the balance.
The tub was a giant circular affair, a modified standing tub. There was a shower stall in the corner, because it took forever to fill and drain said tub and it was a waste when he just wanted to get clean. But the tub, with its shiny brass handles and spout. Large enough for the largest person to rest comfortably, more than enough for Jordan to lean back and immerse herself.
"You can use the cold water tap to start filling the tub, I have to go get the hot water from the stove."
Smart Scott, always thinking ahead. Without running electricity and gas lines that were broken, the water heater in his house didn't work. So hot water had to be boiled on the wood stove.
He patted her shoulder and headed out into the dark hallway, leaving the lamp in the bathroom. Implicit trust that she would be fine in the bathroom for all of the ten minutes or so it took him to come back.
Jordan followed Scott up the stairs, inwardly admiring the house, how simple yet... homey it was. The bathroom kept up with this feeling. With the light from Scott's lamp, Jordan watched as the darkness melted to reveal a tub. Jordan paused when she entered into the bathroom, watching him cautiously as he moved things around.
"You can use the cold water tap to start filling the tub, I have to go get the hot water from the stove." Jordan felt the pat on her shoulder as she averted her gaze. The wolf inside her was still cowering, not sure of her place in the pack... not even feeling part of the pack. Jordan shivered as she was left in the dark, with just a little light for company. She hadn't been afraid of the dark since she was little. But she had just now discovered some monsters were real.
The memories of the traumatic event bubbled to the surface of her mind. Walking, her father talking to her, both of them tired from their journey. Jordan didn't know if they would be safe, but her father continued to reassure her. Her father told her a joke, and Jordan laughed softly, able to for a moment forget the Snap, the end of the world. It could just be another father daughter time. Just for a moment.
Jordan moved past the tub into a corner, leaning against the wall, beginning to breathe raggidly as adrenaline surged through her.
Without warning. Without any warning of any sort. Her father had been standing right there one minute... and then the next he was down, underneath a creature that was too big to be a wolf! Yelling, telling her to run, but no! Despite terror, there was adrenaline too, fear that she would lose her father. Fighting, trying to drag the dog off of her father.... so much blood. And then the wolf looked at her... with human eyes that were so beastial at the same time. Jaws coated with blood as it turned on her, with eyes that held purpose.
Jordan slid to the ground, her fists tightening, so her very short fingernails dig into her palms.
The wolf seemed almost careful with her, biting her, and pulling back without rage, without hunger, without murder. Almost careful, almost deliberately, as if trying to control itself just enough. But pain, oh so much pain and blood. And then it was over, the wolf was gone. Jordan had been left, with her dead father, covered in her own along with his. He was gone.
Jordan growled deeply, and in fear, in loneliness. Her wolf needed out. They needed to run, run far away. The room stank of her wolf, along with her fear. She felt pain. It was happening again, it was happening and she couldn't control it!
It was not too long before Scott returned with a large pot of very hot water held between two potholders. The hardest part was not spilling on the stairs.
"I don't hear that water running. Jordan? You okay?"
He turned the corner and entered the bathroom, expecting to see her standing in front of a running tub.
Jordan was breathing raggidly, almost panting from the pain. The emotional pain, the physical pain. SHe could feel the wolf wanting to come out. But this time, it was not the monster. No, this was a wolf, that just wanted to run, to leave. To get away from such a strange place, with strange smells.
She vaguely heard Scott calling up the stairs. Curling up a bit more, she rested her forehead on her knees. His smell became stronger and slowly she looked up, avoiding his eyes very clearly. A strangled whine came from her throat. Her nostrils flared as she smelled him, smelled a wolf who was not pack, a wolf between her and the escape route.
Meanwhile her human side struggled to stay in control.
"Help me," she tried to beg but only a strangled whisper came from her mouth. Her eyes were coloring to yellow. The smell of her fear and the wolf scent became stronger in the small bathroom.
His own nostrils flared and Scott's eyes narrowed as the adrenaline started to perk in his system. He smelled conflict, pain, and a fear that was turning to panic.
He stood near the doorway, watching Jordan carefully. He was confident he would be able to control her if she shifted, although he had no clue the size of her true form and whether or not he would need to use his Gift. He probably would still be able to talk to her, if she /listened/. It didn't really matter which form she was in as long as she listened. It would help if she didn't panic.
"Okay Jordan, just stay with me, you don't have to fight it, it's part of who you are. You just need to learn to control yourself when you've Shifted. It'll feel better, too."
Scott was between her and the way to escape. Her wolf cringed at the idea of even trying to fight him to get out. So that left one thing: she would have to run, try and dodge him. At the same time as the wolf gained more and more ground in her mind, Jordan fought to hear Scott's words. Truly she found no help on how to stay human. An agonized sound came from her as she felt the wolf surge trying to claw her way out.
And she lost the battle. A pained howl came from her as her body twisted and transformed, not as quickly as a were should. She fell, and then scrabbled onto all fours. A light, lithe wolf, one that was much bigger than a normal wolf of course, but definitely on the smaller scale in terms of weres. She was black as night, save for a silver collar around her neck, like a wreath, resting just above the shoulders. Her eyes were golden, full of intelligence, but of wolf intelligence.
Jordan skittered and paced back and forth, out of reach from Scott. Without warning she galloped, like a blur for the door, aiming to just get past him, to escape. Run away! The wolf cried in her head.
At the howl, Scott tensed, his lip curling back over his canine. He stepped further into the doorway, mentally feeling for the shower curtain rod. She lunged, and he pounced, meeting her halfway as she tried to dart between his legs. Huge muscle-banded arms smacked her into the ground and he straddled her, digging his fingers into her ruff and forcing her jaw against the floor.
A thick, bass growl rumbled out of his chest and down toward her, and his eyes flashed brightly as he continued pushing her down.
"That's enough!" he barked sharply, the sound echoing against the tile.
Jordan saw him tense, and knew she would have to be fast to get past him. She moved so very fast, perhaps surprising even him. But still he moved faster and caught her. One minute she was racing to freedom, the next she was slammed into the ground, held there by the one more dominant than she, of a pack that she did not feel she belonged.
Jordan struggled, but he was on her. She thrashed against his hold and tried to get out of his grip as he shoved her jaw against the ground. Still she fought, ignoring him, feeling terror inside of her as the memories flashed. The wolf whined loudly as she tried to claw out from under him.
And then he barked a command to her. Jordan froze, ears back and wincing at the yell. She licked at the air, cowering, begging him not to kill her. Suddenly she jerked again and thrashed under him, surprisingly strong, not seeming to listen to reason, but just wanted to run.
It seemed, almost for a moment, that she was going to stop.
What a glorious moment.
"Jordan stop." Scott growled again, shaking her. If she wasn't listening to reason then she had to at least listen to instinct, right? Thusly the forward, charged posture. He'd flip her over, if he had to.
He was bigger, he was stronger, she was either going to have to succumb or she was going to hurt herself.
