Wolf!Lock + Dark!John verse
The wolf pads nearly soundlessly through the house. He's trying to find someplace quiet to lick his wounds.
Sold. Prisoner. He keeps his head down as he shuffles though the house. The five days before always hurt the worst. His body always wavering between his "natural" humanity - and the Wolf. Well, if he could be called that.
Please. Nobody ( Read more... )
Sold. Prisoner. He keeps his head down as he shuffles though the house. The five days before always hurt the worst. His body always wavering between his "natural" humanity - and the Wolf. Well, if he could be called that.
Please. Nobody ( Read more... )
"Just doing the job." He retorts back in an almost bored monotone.
That is all it is after all. A job.
Something to keep him occupied. To stop his mind from spiralling into torturous boredom. The day he admits to getting genuine satisfaction out of it is the day he loses his mind completely.
The day he makes Jim Moriarty more happy than he'd like.
The boss chucks him a set of keys; "Help yourself to my private wine cabinet in the lounge. You've earned it after what you've done for me tonight."
He catches the keys and gives a twitch of a smile; "You read my mind."
He wouldn't be surprised if Jim was capable of that. God knows what he wasn't capable of.
Watson pockets the keys and exits the boss' office, padding down the house and towards the lounge.
His first port of call is a washroom. The blood on his hands won't rinse itself off.
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He pads softly downstairs. Trying to avoid anyone but Fabian gives him a kick for crossing his path.
A part of him likes being human...except. His distinctness is more obvious then.
When "Master" is at his worst.
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He bats them away as usual. Filthy, annoying things. Moran had offered to give him one when he'd been hired but Watson had "politely" declined. His gun was his pet. His best friend. He didn't need anything else getting in the way. Becoming an inconvenience.
Watson unlocks the Boss' cabinet and pours himself a large glass of brandy. Yep. Definitely earned it after tonight.
He throws his jacket over a chair and goes to the open window, standing on a balcony, looking out over the boss' impressive stretch of land and to the waxing moon shining down through the clouds. He sips his drink, wishing he could go to his own apartment. Or even a hotel room.
But no. It's all in the contract. The Boss likes everyone to be together under one roof.
One big happy dysfunctional family.
And after getting to know them all, Watson was more than ready to commit fratricide on the lot of them.
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His ears prick at the noise of brandy being swirled in the glass. He watches the stranger, sniffing.
The man isn't yet accustomed to Master's House. But he'll learn. Everyone did. In time.
The man doesn't like the other dogs, otherwise he'd have one. Because he's the last of the Pack, Bladdwyn is everyone's.
And right now the cellar is an alright place to hide. Until he's found.
He'd managed to fight off Alfie - but the upcoming transformation will wane his strength. When he's human, he's nearly defenseless, but it doesn't mean he doesn't try to fight them off. Except Master. He knows better than to fight Master in either form.
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Discipline.
But why is he sad?
Bladdwyn is so focused on what the man was, he almost doesn't notice when he shifts to refill his glass.
The wolf quickly ducks into a darkened corner, hoping the man doesn't see him.
He only spares another passing look before searching for yet another hiding place.
During his search, Damien grabs him by his collar. "C'mon. Beast."
He puts up a small fight to test his strength, but Damien's hold is firm.
If there's anyone the wolf hates more, it's Damien. True, Master gave Damien his orders, but sometimes the corrupt veterinarian acted all on his own.
[[ooc: sorry about the slowness, having to use my phone for now.]]
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True, it looked weaker than the other hounds, but it looked like a different animal all together.
A wolf? Or maybe just some cross-breed?
He sips his wine and raises an eyebrow at his colleague trying to wrestle the beast. It didn't look half as groomed or well cared for as the other mutts, with patches of his fur missing and various scars.
"Need a hand?" He asks, jokingly of course. He wouldn't piss on Damien if he was on fire.
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Bladdwyn lets out a low growl and shows his teeth. "Fiesty one," Damien explains.
In truth, Bladdwyn could have bit him easily, but doesn't. He doesn't yelp when Damien pulls on his collar. "C'mon Beast, it's time for your medicine."
Oh no, that Bladdwyn has no interest in the foul-smelling stuff at all. He preferred the others to take what they wanted of food and push him back then unwanted attention. He's not a bitch in heat, he's only different.
He gives a small bark of annoyance.
Master's Pet.
Master's Freak.
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Already he likes you. It takes a lot of balls to fight back against a sadist like Damien. And considering what else you seem to have been put through so far it's admirable that you've got a lot of fight left in you.
But you're only making things worse for yourself.
"Actually, in all seriousness, may I?" He doesn't wait for permission, he just steps forward.
Watson kneels down and whistles for your attention.
"Oi. Feisty." He calls you and puts out his hand for you to sniff.
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A human is interested in him. This never means anything good if he's shy.
After intially shying away, he sniffs disdainfully. Blood. You are one of them, but not quite like them.
The blood isn't yours. At least you don't smell like most of them. Especially Sebastian. Master gave you orders, then.
He spares you a defiant glare. "He's a handful alright," Damien says, smirking.
He could have easily bitten either of you but...he is not told to attack. And the last of the pack, as his status so clearly is, knows better.
There's evidence he didn't used to know that though. Considering his ragged appearance. Probably the only thing that might be considered "beautiful" about him is the flashing blue-green eyes.
Damien continues that grin of his. "Want to see an experiment of mine?"
The wolf tries to slip out of his collar.
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"There now. You're not trouble, are you?" He cajoles, mostly for the purpose of showing up Damien. He smirks at the doctor; "You catch flies better with honey than vinegar."
Of course Watson hasn't been around long enough to know the extent of how badly you're treated. So he isn't too sure of what Damien plans to do.
His damn curiosity is peeked.
"What is it then?" He asks, lighting up another cigarette.
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Damien smirks. "You wanna see or not?"
The wolf turns his head, ears pricked. "No one there Beasty, or are you just looking forward to your treatment?"
If he could reply, he'd say no, and usually he can escape. Except this week. He's weakened from the coming transformation. Soon. Please.
The few days before are like torture.
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It's not entirely true. Yes he has nothing better to do tonight but mostly he's curious to see what's going to happen to you for himself. It's going to happen anyway so he might as well witness it.
Damien is a sick bastard (but then so is Watson). If nothing else he is, at least, creative.
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A rather large Doberman that stands slightly taller than the wolf is already waiting in the next room. Similiar to a surgery but a far more sinister feel.
He bares his teeth at the wolf. Unlike The Beast, his coat shines and its clear someone takes care of him. And from the proud carrying of his head, you might reach the conclusion that he's the Alpha.
Alfie.
Hell, wasn't the transformation enough agony? Least that his injuries weren't just healed.
The wolf pulls on his collar a little and Damien smacks him on the nose. He whimpers a little.
"Stop snivelling," is the rough order.
[[ooc: not sure if Damien makes them fight or.. similar to the previous thread's content. Only The Beast is less human.]]
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Watson takes a seat and lights up another fag.
This seemed like a rather pointless experiment. It was clear the Doberman had the advantage. Or maybe that was the point. It wasn't so much a test as it was a chance for Damien to let you be attacked and beaten down once again.
That was hardly entertaining. Barely any sport to it at all.
Yet, Watson keeps watching, hoping you'll surprise him.
The Underdog.
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Bladdwyn is quite sure he's going to be badly beaten, already Alfie is eying him up and down, teeth pulled back in almost a macabre grin.
Damien releases him with a kick, giving Alfie permission to dive in.
Bladdwyn ducks and sinks his teeth into Alfie's leg. The fight is vicious...Alfie mostly taking the upper hand.
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