WritesNaughtyStories

I stumbled across @Olivia_the_lonelyin the Unfulfilled Kinks thread and dropped her a PM based on a roleplay she mentioned there. She's an excellent writer and a great imagination. If you're looking for a good partner, she's certainly worth reaching out to.

Kill. To free up all those waifus and Kendra for fucking.

Originally I was kidding about full wolf but now I think it's a pretty cool idea. I hadn't thought of werewolf, but that's a fun idea too.

Just transform and come on outside with Bleeds - we'll get you taken care of, @DreamsnThings

Bleeds had barely transformed back into his wolf form when he heard the summons from the kennel. He spun around and looped back to the entry way, leaping over the stone stairs to land on human feet. He groaned inwardly as he opened the door and joined the gathering pack. He stood, naked, leaning against the wall to one side of the foyer and worked his suddenly very stiff jaw. He felt it crack and was certain everyone could hear it, As the others began to assemble, Bleeds could smell the gathering musk of the impending mating season. He forced a long, slow breath and tried to relax. The aging warrior searched the pack for a familiar face. 'Green mother,' he thought, suddenly feeling very isolated, 'how long have I been living wild? What other crises have I missed?'

"I just need to know if you don't want me pulling them apart." Bleeds for the Pack replied flatly. As the conversation continued Bleeds listened. To his mind that was pretty much the extent of his responsibility in this exchange. Bleeds gave a low chuckle that bordered on a growl, "Couldn't recommend that - I'd leave this kennel and pretend it was never here. The forest is where we're strongest. Our ears and noses are unmatched - we can move by day, be gone by night. Even the leeches can't fight us in the wild." He shook his head, "The delta's your man for that. I just need to know who to kill" He looked down at the remains of his body, "Hard to tell, I know, but that's what I'm best at." "Gather away, alpha. I'll tell them what I know. As for mating season - been a long while since that's been a concern of mine. Scars are not as sexy as you've been told and old is even worse." He observed with a friendly grin. "I'll wait for you to give the okay, but I'd rather head back out to the deep forest and see what's going on." Bleeds inclined his head slightly, "If we're done I'm going to go hunt."

Bleeds walked into the room. The confined space, hard angles and still air made him far more uncomfortable than the big male who greeted him. Bleeds looked around, "I was expecting a luna - you'd think they'd have told me." He shook his head and approached the alpha with a polite nod. Bleeds sniffed in the closet air of the room, trying with his dulled human senses to identify the werewolf. "It was you in the forest with Nimona and the leech - but I remember your scent, but you were much younger..." He scratched the lower point of the scar that crossed his eye as he thought. "You were probably a pup last time I came to the kennel." He theorized before he shook his head. "I don't know why you were talking to the leech and I get you don't have to tell me." He began as he pushed his graying hair back. "What I came to talk to you about happened after you and the leech left." He went on to tell Windcaller about the strange, disappearing scent. "I'm not one for mystical wisdom, but this old thing," he finished, touching the scar, "has a sense for violence, and it aches."

Give him a very confused look, "Lost?"

Bleeds was last at the house when there was a Luna - I have a plan...

While Bleeds for the Pack stalked through the halls of the ancient mansion uncomfortably, he looked out the window and noted the lowering, golden light. Day was passing and the time to hunt drawing closer. He wasn't quite as hungry as he was uncomfortable in the human structure. Bleeds was completely happy to spend most of his life as a wolf and he'd long ago adapted to the vagaries of hunting alone but it had been several days since he'd made the time to hunt anything larger than a rabbit and he really wanted out of the kennel. He made his way upstairs to the traditional suite reserved for the pack leader. He stopped outside the door and raised his hand to bang on the door but stopped. He cleared his throat - unwilling to make an embarrassing croak when he announced himself. More confident that his human voice wouldn't fail him he slapped the door frame with the flat of his hand loudly. "Bleeds for the Pack of The Midnight Moon would speak with pack's Luna. The pack may be threatened." The howled warning seemed less awkward, but this generation of the pack seemed as intent on wearing their human skins as Bleeds was wearing his wolfen skin.

Bleeds gave an awkward smile, "Not a very good one. Much better at fighting than planning and always considered enemies dead and me alive a victory. Too simple and direct, think." When the young delta asked him if he was there during the attack, Bleeds shook his head, "No. I was patrolling through the deep forest, and heard Nimona yelp and followed. When I caught the scent of wolf blood I ran. By the time I got there I smelled the other wolf and the leech. When I heard talking instead of fighting, I waited. Then the leech scampered off and the wolves headed here." Had he arrived a few minutes earlier, he might have seen something and certainly gone after the leech. Perhaps, hearing Nimona's story of a spell, perhaps it was best he'd been late. He looked at the girl, "Might be luckier for her that I got there when I did. I'd have killed the leech and it sounds like Nimona, here, might have died if it weren't for the leech." He started for the door, "When did we stop killing them, anyway?" he asked in a calm, even voice. The world changed. Bleeds knew that, so did he. Just far more slowly. When Caleb - Bleeds disliked that name and called him Bares his fangs mentally - told him where to fin the luna he nodded again, "I see somethings do not change." Bleeds left the room and headed into the half forgotten but familiar halls of the house. <to the Alpha/Luna Wing>

Bleeds let the glare wash over him, calm and still. "I used to be you. I respect your position and decisions but I do not fear you. You are not my better, you are another tree in the green mother's forest with a different duty." There were enough enemies to fight. There was nothing to gain by trying to prove something with Kakabiel. "Human mythology. Might as we be Cloacina at least she was useful." He replied to the younger wolf's name. "There is the green mother, none other. My name is the one I use for her - the humans lash and bind her with asphalt, steel, fire and noise - I have no need of the name they gave me." His voice fell, "And neither do you, Bares his fangs." He looked back over his shoulder at the empty storage, "Never liked kennel food anyway, but I've been busy today." The wiry, old warrior stepped gracefully around the delta and sniffed at the female. "It was you I smelled in the forest. Bleeding and barely breathing before the leech and wolf showed up." He looked back at Kakabiel, "When the wolf left with her - big breeding male from the scent - the leech slunk off and as I was about to hunt it down I caught the scent of human. I tracked it a way but it vanished. The scent just disappeared. Not like the wind shifted. Not weak and lingering on the ground and leaves, but gone. Completely silent, as if it was never there." Sight was always secondary for him - his ears and nose never shut off, but his eyes closed, even when he slept. He cocked his head to the side and regarded Nimona, "We need to see the luna." He said, touching the scar that ran over his eye, "My scar aches - blood is coming."

Thanks for letting us know.

Bleeds heard the door swing open and bang against the wall. His body coiled, ready to leap to the side and transform, but he forced a slow breath. One scarred hand closed the meat locker with slow deliberation before he turned around. "Over here." He replied at the barked interrogation. "I suspect I made my first change before your grandmother whelped your mother." He stepped forward, slowly and eyed the handsome young man before him. "Must have been gone a long time..." He observed thoughtfully, padding forward on bare feet. He was tall, thin and built of long, with knots of muscle and scars. "Bleeds for the Pack." He said, introducing himself using the name the pack had given him so long ago. "And you are?" Even in his human form Bleeds could smell another wolf nearby. He craned his neck and looked around the male. "Can't tell in this form, but I think I smelled your friend earlier." He said, shifting his gaze back to the werewolf in front of him.

Bleeds for the Pack could feel the tension growing in his powerful shoulders as he trotted quietly to the rear of the mansion. He should smell the construct. Lumber smelled different than trees. Smoke hung in the air and old damp clung to bricks and slate. It was human. Controlled. Rigid and orderly and as each silent step drew him closer he could the tightness creeping into his muscles. Human thoughts, human emotions crushing into his clear experience of the forest. Bleeds was seething with annoyance and misery that bordered on rage by the time he climbed the stone steps to the old summer kitchen. Even this outside kitchen reeked of fires and old lumber, dried and sawn. He let himself slide out of his wolf form and into the grizzled old human body he often tried to forget as he made his way past the nearly forgotten stone oven that dominated one side of the extended, antique external room. He was lean and hard, a thin hickory that stalked the last few steps across the stone floor. Scars marked most of his skin, cutting a mixture of ragged furrows and clean cuts through dark skin hazed with fine gray hair. He looked down at himself without shame or judgement and pushed through the heavy wood door to the regular kitchen. The air was chokingly close. Too warm, thick with odors and Bleeds grit his teeth. "Where is everybody?" He tried to bellow. It was more of a ragged, wordless croak than anything else. 'When was the last time I spoke?' He asked himself as he cleared his throat to try again. "Where is everybody?" He called again. It was louder than he'd intended. He padded over to the old meat locker, hoping to find something that hadn't been sacrificed to a fire god.

Should I wait for @Kitsuyumia or just make my way to the mansion?

As the faint scent of distant rut drifted by, the gray-muzzled wolf turned an ear. He listened without moving trying, with far too simple tools, to suss out the meaning of the conflicting information. Waiting wasn't actually Bleeds for the Pack's strongest skill, and he raised himself silently to his feet and slipped through the underbrush with surprising grace. He hadn't taken a dozen steps before the scent of blood and the noise of a running wolf froze his feet mid-step. He lowered his head, but turned his ears to the noise as he inhaled slowly. 'Too much traffic today' he thought silently. Then death and something else - man? colored the taste of the air in his nose and Bleeds' jaws clenched. He folded himself into the loam silently and waited. There would be blood soon enough. The scar over his eye ached it's old warning of coming violence. He heard the distant voices but could not make out the words. As the voices faded and the sounds of bodies moving away from each other he heard another voice. The scent remained. With a low, soft growl Bleeds raised himself off the forest earth and trotted quietly toward the sound. He could smell it: wolf blood and the scent of something else. He hurried, certain he had his quarry, but the forest fell silent and the scent disappeared. It wasn't possible. Bleeds made a wide circle, nose in the air and ears pricked forward but could find nothing. This was bad... He wasn't the greatest tracker but he shouldn't have lost this. A failure like this would be just the kind of thing to get an old warrior sent to the Omegas to age out his years, whelping pups to replace him. Time ate all things - Bleeds included, He sighed and turned toward the manse. The jaws of time on his throat bothered him less than going to the house. Wary of the unusually busy forest, Bleeds for the Pack turned toward the hated walls and rules, hoping for a fight to delay him. Maybe the leech was still out here...

Name: Stephen "Bleeds for the Pack" Ransom Age: Apparently 67, date of birth uncertain Sex: Male Gender: CIS Sexuality: Mostly straight Role: Aging warrior Personality: Bleeds for the Pack is a grizzled veteran warrior. He believes a werewolf's first duty is to protect the pack. To that end no price is too high to pay. In his brief stint as Delta he found that his ferocity was often seen as reckless, bordering on suicidal. His view is that if the other guy dies and you don't, it's a victory. He's more comfortable in his half form than human, and is completely content to sleep in the forest in his wolf form. Appearance Details: Bleeds loves his pack mates but understands that what he's really best at is being the pack's muscle. He bridles at being given orders and tends to avoid the mansion to avoid unnecessary confrontations. Other Details (Optional):

Shit. Hadn't noticed. Back to the shelves, I guess.

That's a great thought. I think I have an idea for a character. Thanks.

Trying to figure where I fit in best. I love werewolves but do very poorly with structured hierarchies - while I managed to get out of the military successfully, I'd been demoted more than I'd been promoted. That said, I've always played very anti-social vampires in the past: Flesh rafting Tzmisce and sorcerous Thin Bloods being particular favorites. That seems to violate the spirit of the game in this case. Since all that's World of Darkness stuff, it doesn't really work here though. I see many of you play a chapter on each side of the water but I struggled to keep characters distinct if I play more than one in the same game, so I'm going to pick one faction. Back to my research.

Loving everyone