KACE CLARKE
Werewolf
untriggered
Posts: 98
Age:
30
Occupation:
Owner of the Diner
Status:
Single
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 20:04:23 GMT
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Post by KACE CLARKE on Jun 22, 2023 18:37:02 GMT
One advantage to Bodhi’s was that the place hadn’t opened until midday. Even then Gage had typically been the first one in, getting all the shit organised for the day, never complaining when he trailed in hours later, his hair still crunchy with salt. Here it was all on him – rolling out of bed just after the sun came up, practically kissing Dom and Mikey for both turning up on time so he could slope off after the breakfast rush had finished.
”I’ll be back at twelve, you need anything before that just call me on my cell.” Kace glanced back through the front window as he left, feeling that slight sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. Not over leaving the place almost entirely in the hands of two guys who looked like – and in Mikey’s case at least, had been – trouble. Both Dom and Mikey had proved they were capable and reliable by now. Nah, it was what he was going to check that left him as queasy as if he’d wiped out and chugged down a gallon of sea water.
Their dad had been their bedrock when they were growing up, the good influence that cancelled out the quicksand that was Kamilla. A family man, holding down a decent job, raising three kids practically single handed. While he’d been happy to float lazily around on top of that quicksand, Kit had followed their old man instead – serving his country right up until that explosion left him stumbling on now unstable ground.
Kace’s frown deepened as he drove back towards the house. He’d hoped that with him pulling his Lazarus act with Cassie’s help and Frank and Katja standing either side of Kit things would stabilise. Kit would get the whole white picket fence life he’d always seemed to want – maybe a marriage and kids eventually, even if he’d have to race out to the woods and turn furry once a month.
Maybe. If shit didn’t blow up in Kit’s face again.
The fuse had been hissing towards it for a week before he’d woken up to voice in the middle of the night, Katja’s absence palpable in the house. That glassy look in Kit’s eye when he’d stopped by the club for a drink – on the right side of the bar. Women sniffing around before Kit would vanish for his break. The last one who’d giggled her way into the house an hour before the shit hit the fan.
He’d seen his brother at his worst in those months after he’d … died. There’d been no way he could do anything but watch – and inadvertently add to the tinder box in those brief moments he’d been able to break through. The reaper had warned him about what would happen if he didn’t go with them, but nobody had prepared him for what was going to happen if he came back. Guilt had torn at Kit for two years, now that ran both ways too, nibbling away at the edges of his certainty that Kit and Katja would patch things up and things would be steady again. This was Mystic Falls, shit was never gonna be normal, but it could get close.
The noise had come again last night, what he’d started getting almost used to – the post work party. He’d half expected some random chick to be pouring coffee in the kitchen again this morning, but there’d just been him and Frank shuffling around, communicating in companionable grunts.
It seemed just as quiet now as he pulled up and got out of the car. Kace slipped inside, slowly working his way into the kitchen. No extra plates or mugs by the sink. The clock on the wall was ticking towards the time Kit usually woulda been started his day at. He headed upstairs, the stillness in the house starting to make his skin crawl. Maybe – hopefully – Kit had woken up and decided to take the woman out for breakfast instead.
Thumping a fist against Kit’s door, Kace chose not to stroll right in, the way Kit had done on the night Cassie had stayed over. ”Hey, man. Clock’s ticking. You want me to throw some breakfast on before I head back?” The silence squeezed Kace’s heart in his chest. He rapped his knuckles again, pushing the door open immediately this time.
The girl hadn’t gone. She was still sprawled in the tangled covers next to Kit – more flesh than she might have wanted to show on view above the snarl of sheets. Being practically comatose had probably saved her from the acrid smell of the vomit that streaked Kit’s face.
”Fuck! Kit! Wake the fuck up, man. Come on.” There was a desperate whine to his voice as he bolted to the side of the bed. He grabbed Kit’s bare arm, dragging him closer. That shit wasn’t supposed to hit hard. Being a werewolf meant that you didn’t get sick. Your body kicked into some sort of a healing state, burning through whatever you took in. You weren’t supposed to be able to OD. Kace’s fingers shook as he pressed them to Kit’s throat, searching for a pulse. Was that his or Kit’s? Slow. Not his.
The covers heaved and shifted, a fifth arm and tangled curls emerging. ”Get the fuck up,” Kace snarled, throwing back the covers to reveal the only one of the three who was at least semi-conscious. ”You heard me. Both of you need to get the fuck up now and leave!” She slurred something at him as he turned back to Kit to slap his puke slick cheek. ”What shit did you take?” Who knew what the fuck the answer was, if the woman wasn’t high then she was still drunk on whatever oozed noxiously from her pores. It didn’t really matter, he’d spent years in Hollywood, had got so used to the overindulgence that he was moving on autopilot while his brain screamed. Water. Get Kit conscious. Hope to fucking God the magical healing shit kicked in. He grabbed a water bottle of the crap on the floor and twisted the cap off, not hesitating before he threw the contents over all three bodies on the bed.
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on Jul 11, 2023 17:15:36 GMT
 ━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
He didn’t think she’d ever come back. He wouldn’t if he was her, and part of him tried to be happy about it. If she wasn’t around, then he didn’t have to be tied to any more people than necessary. It was better that she wasn’t stuck on his sinking ship, too, right? Yeah.
He didn’t hear the yelling. He felt a little cold, maybe, as the blankets were ripped off him and the air conditioning bit at his bare flesh, but there wasn’t much of anything until the stinging on his cheek. He felt… groggy. Fucked up. What he remembered hangovers feeling like before his first full moon.
Kit groaned as he was suddenly wet━and not in a good way━water seeming to drench his chest and neck. He couldn’t speak yet, but he heard the complaints on either side of him, high-pitched squeals and whatever else. Definitely just his guests from last night.
And then there was Kace’s voice, filtering in almost muffled, like he was underwater. Kit couldn’t understand it, whatever he was saying. “Jesus,” Kit slurred, making it sound more like Jeeeeshush, as he rolled, feeling the weight that was on either side lift off the bed. He finally made it onto his side, then gripped the sheets to tug himself to the edge, eyes only partially open. His stomach lurched, and he vomited onto the floor, the terrible feeling rolling through him uncontrollably, again and again.
Finally, by the time he flopped onto his back again, he grumbled at the wet feeling under his back, one eye peering open to see Kace standing over him. He closed it again, his body working desperately to heal itself. “Fuck… you wake m’up like that for?” The question was long, a few words drawn out as he swallowed, then grimaced at the sour taste. “What’s… wrong? They leave?” Kit asked slowly, one palm reaching out and padding the spot beside him, finding nothing except a few more wet spots and something… chunky? What the fuck.
KACE CLARKE | no notes. |
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KACE CLARKE
Werewolf
untriggered
Posts: 98
Age:
30
Occupation:
Owner of the Diner
Status:
Single
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 20:04:23 GMT
|
Post by KACE CLARKE on Jul 18, 2023 19:30:24 GMT
He might as well have been a fucking corpse for all the response there was out of Kit before the water splashed down over him. Thank fuck. The terror had been rising in him like vibrations through a train line. They’d done it as kids, trying to prove who had the biggest balls among them all, walking along one of the big train lines that’d carried freight back and forth between the rigs and the refineries. That electric feeling humming through his chest, the hair rising on the back of his neck before – never the last of them, he didn’t have the balls for that – he’d go leaping off the sleepers and barrelling down the slope towards the field. Collapsing in a heap in the corn that was short enough to hide them from the driver’s beady eye as the train blasted past, he’d laugh out all the pressure his fear had built. He wasn’t laughing now.
The mental image of having to hammer on his brother’s chest, of having to try and breath fucking life into his puke filled lungs, started to choke him. He’d do it, would do anything to knock Kit back from the abyss he was balanced on top of. The true fucking opposite of Di Caprio flying at the front of the Titanic – only Kit wasn’t king of the world. He was trapped under those miles of cold, dark water, drowning himself in whatever he could get a hold on.
Jesus. Kace barked out a laugh that narrowed into a snarl immediately. His eyes were burning, the same way he imagined Kit’s were going to when they peeled open and the world rushed into a brain that was still fried. ”Not fuckin’ close. You’re not risin’ from the dead ‘cause you can’t fuckin’ stop yourself.” He wasn’t rolling away some stone in three days, hoping that a second miracle had struck for their family.
Kit was moving, but it wasn’t much of a relief. It was like watching a zombie move, something that was already dead behind partially opened eyes. As one of the girls bent to grab for some scrap of fabric on the floor, Kace stooped, getting there before he to toss – had she really needed her panties to bolt? – out the bedroom door. ”I told you to get the hell out. Don’t come back. You see him at the club, you walk in the other fuckin’ direction, alright?” Not that it would stop Kit. The club was heaving with women and apparently his brother wasn’t picky.
The barely human lump had made it to the edge of the bed. Kace reached out to prop him up and … ”Fuck!” If the girls had slammed the door on their way out, he wouldn’t have heard it over the sounds of Kit expelling whatever he’d imbibed last night. Vomit splattered his boots, left him swallowing back what tried to rise in his own stomach. They were gonna have to burn the room once they’d dragged Kit out of him and beat some sense through his thick fucking head.
Cursing, Kace dragged the stained, balled up covers off of the bed, dropping them over the mess on the floor. ”That’s it? Throw up and pass the fuck out again?” He was fucking tapped. Scowling down at his brother, he considered just grabbing the edge of the sheet and dragging Kit right on top of the mess. "Why the fuck did I wake you up when I thought you were dead? I’m askin’ myself the same damn thing.” The laugh was strained, his jaw going tight as he knelt on the bed and smacked Kit’s hand away from its explorations before he clapped it hard against his brother’s cheek again. No longer in imminent risk of choking to death on his own vomit, but not many steps off it.
”I kicked them out. What the fuck did you think you were doin’? What did you take last night?” Too much, it was easy answer, one that still wanted to choke him. Fuck it. He did rear back, grabbing the sheet. Cotton ripped, the sound filling the air before he dragged Kit off the bed. He hoped it fucking hurt, worked some sense into his head. They might’ve been dragging a trail of puke with them, but Kace started to struggle back towards the bedroom door, heading for the bathroom. A freezing cold shower would start washing the stench away, maybe leaving some room for some sense. ”This is it, you’re done, man. Next time it’s not just gonna be well I got close. You see what you’re doin’ to yourself?” Probably not. Self-loathing and heart break made it hard to look at yourself in the mirror.
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on Aug 13, 2023 16:50:21 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
‘Course. ‘Cause the baby brother━the one who always got taken care of━thought he was the adult now. He didn’t have the strength to respond to the first comment, but if he had, he would’ve asked why the fuck it mattered to Kace. Yeah, he was gonna throw up and pass out, ‘cause what else would he do? What else was there to do? Get up and run a fuckin’ marathon?
“Not… dead.” He mumbled. That was fuckin’ dramatic. But then Kace was slapping him━first his hand and then his face━and Kit flinched, his eyes flicking open for another second. “The fuck,” He tried to reach up and push Kace away, but he didn’t feel like he’d fully regained the use of his muscles. He managed a pitiful nudge to Kace’s chest while his brother was already moving away.
Why’d Kace kick them out? Was he fuckin’ jealous, or was this an act in Katja’s honour or some shit? Fuck, bro, she was gone, Kit had come to grips with it, so Kace should’ve, too.
The second question wasn’t as easily brushed off. Kit took a moment to think about it━he actually didn’t remember yet. It’d come to him eventually, once the temporary hangover wore off, healed by the abilities he’d never asked for. It was kind of a Godsend, though, ‘specially at his age. He woulda been fucked for days afterwards if not for breaking all his bones every full moon. “I dunno, man, I━” Before he could slur out the rest of his response, the bed was moving beneath him, and his tailbone hit the floor hard.
“Motherfu━” Kit shouted, sputtering as his head lolled back. His bedroom doorframe passed first, then the hallway, walls shooting by in bright streaks and blurred flashes. It was like he was in a video game, trying to fight his way out of some awful sequence that would eventually lead to a Boss Battle. Only, the “boss” was his little brother, and Kit didn’t think he had a chance in hell of winning in his current state.
They were in the bathroom, but he didn’t realize it until Kace was talking and shoving him into the tiled shower. “Wha━” Before the words could permeate, the freezing cold water hit his skin and spoke loud enough, soaking his body, his hair, his face━at least it was getting the puke off. Kit’s body jolted, the whole thing extremely sobering, and his werewolf healing soon made quick work of finishing what it hadn’t gotten to already.
“Fuck!” He shouted, raising his hand to slap it down his face, pushing away the water. His eyes went to Kace, glowing blue for a moment before they faded, and he focused on his brother. “Fuck, man… I’m done? What the fuck’s that gotta do with you? I was havin’ fun last night, you should try it sometime.”
When had they become this? When had they switched? Kace used to be the partier━he was the boy who loved the lights and quick-pace of Hollywood, the sibling who enjoyed it the most━their mom was probably the only bad part for him. Sure, Bodhi’s was always a thing, but that was half an excuse to drink and hang out with his friends a little more, right? A handful of growing up while his older brother was off on special missions regarding their country’s safety.
Kace had never been this, though. Kit was sure of it. He’d probably had some wild nights in his early twenties, woke up and started drinking again almost immediately, but that was just the point━he was a kid. He wasn’t running from anything other than adolescent complaints all other kids had when they thought the world revolved around him.
“I ain’t doin’ shit.” He grumbled, slowly trying to push himself to stand. He saw the vomit start to sink towards the drain; the small puddle stuck on part of the sheet. Fuck. “Ain’t doin’ shit except enjoyin’ the free time I got now. No-fuckin’-body to come home to, waitin’ on me… fuckin’...” Loving me. He had his family, Kace and Frank, but nobody to love him like a partner. And that was his fucking fault, so, yeah, it was easier to stop feeling lonely when you were doped up and had a girl on each arm.
His fingers gripped the edges of the small squares as if the grout would help him, and eventually rose, unsteadily, onto both feet. “Ge’me a fuckin’ towel, wouldja?” He grumbled, sticking his hand out to Kace, halfway between understanding━thankful━and just fucking pissed.
KACE CLARKE | no notes. |
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KACE CLARKE
Werewolf
untriggered
Posts: 98
Age:
30
Occupation:
Owner of the Diner
Status:
Single
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 20:04:23 GMT
|
Post by KACE CLARKE on Sept 10, 2023 17:33:39 GMT
Not for lack of trying.
The sick feeling rose up his throat like he was gonna be the one puking then, right in Kit’s face as he smacked it, trying to bring the asshole fully around. He’d been there in the pews at his own funeral, seeing the waves of devastation ripple through the church and he’d seen everyone rock his brother since – like his death was the stone tossed into the waters of their lives. Then he’d been sure that Kit would eventually drown under those waves, but he’d pulled himself out. He’d been doing better. Kace had found himself hoping that they were putting this all behind them.
As Kit reached up to hit back, Kace was already stepping out of his reach. Kit would’ve fallen on his face before he got a decent hit in – if he’d been sober he could’ve taken him down with a single flick of a finger. His brother had been slowed by whatever still dampened his system, probably picked entirely for its ability to dull everything. If you couldn’t feel things then you didn’t have to admit that you were hurt just as bad by the shit you’d done. You didn’t feel that stabbing ache in your heart, or that sting in your stomach. Your conscience was clear, it was everybody else’s problem that they were still feeling it all.
”Course you don’t,” Kace muttered. ”Why bother payin’ attention to what you’re swallowin’ when you just burn it all off later.” Unfortunately guilt and love didn’t go the same way. You felt those even after the day you fucking died. ”Stop whinin’.” Kace’s voice spat out with a bullet’s viciousness, punching through the tightness that remained in his throat.
Later Kit could clean up the mess he’d left behind. If he had his way his brother was about to start cleaning up all the messes he’d made, putting his life back together the way he’d started to before. He wasn’t gentle in dragging him through the house, letting the sheet and its heavy burden bumping around the doorways. There in the bathroom he lifted one side of the sheet, shoving it and Kit into the cubicle before he cranked on the shower, as cold as it could possibly go. Water spattered his own forearms as he reached in to grab the bottle of shower gel in there, squirting a handful into the mess – as though it could do much against that mess.
Slowly Kace retreated, settling on the closed lid of the toilet. Hands laced, he planted his elbows on his knees and watched Kit almost dispassionately. ”I tried it and you gave me so much shit for it the next mornin’. Before you start yappin’ about that, this isn’t payback. This is about me not wantin’ to watch you kill yourself one step at a time. I had to do that before, didn’t have any choice in helpin’ stop it. This time’s different.” Sighing out a heavy breath, Kace rubbed his hands over his face, stopping when he suddenly realised he might’ve gotten puke on them earlier. Scowling down at them, he turned them over, only relaxing again when he realised they were clean.
”You’re doin’ plenty,” Kace bit out wearily. He let all the worry he’d been holding back lately filter into his expression as he watched Kit try and haul himself up. Clean was still pretty far off but he was sobered up enough not to topple right onto his face. ”You’re done self-destructin’. It’s not fun and you know it. You’re punishin’ yourself, exactly like you did before.” Because Katja was gone. The two of them had broken up and it was like one of the few things keeping Kit afloat was gone, sinking him down into those cold, dark depths.
Kace stared at his brother for a moment, not moving. He coulda told him to get it himself, to move off his ass and start doing something about not having anybody there at home waiting on him, that would’ve just been him letting him go back to drowning. Slowly he stood and plucked a towel off the rack to throw at him. ”You want someone to come home to you fight for her. Did you go after her? Tell her you were sorry? If you’re gonna you need to look better than you do now. None of us wanna see you like this … even her. You need to start pullin’ yourself together, man, because you are killin’ yourself, one snort, one swallow at a time and we’re not gonna let it happen.” It meant he was speaking for Katja, for Frank, for the rest of the family, even for Kandace and their parents, people who had no idea how far adrift he’d ended up. One call woulda got them all here, all of them circling the wagons like that unified front would have it all turning around immediately.
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
|
Post by KIT CLARKE on Sept 25, 2023 16:05:43 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
“Kill myself?” Kit repeated with a scoff and shook his head, though he quickly stopped━it made him feel nauseous and fuckin’ dizzy. ‘Parently it wasn’t completely outta his system yet. Or he still just felt like shit. “Why’s everyone so fuckin’ dramatic? Just went out partyin’, man…” But it wasn’t just partying. It was a way to dull the pain, to distract himself━to fall into an abyss where the problems of his life (Kace, Frank, Katja, his family) weren’t so important.
He didn’t know what it must’ve looked like for Kace to watch his downward spiral after Kit got out of prison━or even while he was in it━but this probably appeared similarly. It wasn’t, though. Losing Katja wasn’t the same as murdering his baby brother. He’d still lost a piece of himself, however, and Kit felt that pain radiating through him every damn day.
“And workin’ at the club wouldn’ta been fun. I already… said that,” He puffed out, just ‘cause he still had to argue his side. He was sure knockin’ around with Cassie was fun, though, so he wasn’t gonna argue that part.
Finally, Kit dragged himself to his feet, his muscles feeling weak and unsteady for a moment until the advanced healing trudged through the rest of him.
Exactly like he did before. Was it really the fuckin’ same? Was this his go-to now? Sink into degenerate fuckin’ vices just like his fuckin’ mom? Wasn’t that Kace’s job?
Kace tossed him a towel and Kit caught it without looking up, leaning into one wall of the shower, away from the spray, as he toweled off his face, shoulders, torso, then wrapped it around his waist. He’d give himself a real scrub down later━when his brother wasn’t supervising. And fuckin’ naggin’.
“What’s there to fuckin’ fight for, man?” He grumbled, “I fucked up; she’s gone━that’s it. Katja ain’t gonna come back after that shit.” He couldn’t imagine her ever forgiving him or setting aside her self-respect to even begin to. He knew they’d never defined the boundaries of their relationship, but there was a silent agreement there, and he’d completely ignored it. The moment Kit felt alone, he gambled with what they had and lost it. That was his own fault; he didn’t expect Katja to come back after that.
But Kace said we, and Kit shook his head again, puffing out a breath as he stepped out of the shower. “She ain’t comin’ back.” He said it both to manage his own expectations, but also to warn Kace not to involve her. Katja would come running if he needed her, and he wouldn’t put her through that. It wasn’t fair. She’d walked out because of his fuckin’ problems; she didn’t need to be the one to fix them when they got worse.
There were other people whose involvement he wouldn’t be able to stop, though. Kit heard the front door open downstairs, and visibly cringed, then deflated. Kace was gonna pull Frank into all this shit, too.
He didn’t really have the energy to be angry anymore. He was defensive, and irritated, but Kace wasn’t gonna believe anything he said, so why fuckin’ bother? He went for the door and started down the hallway to his room, grumbling, “Don’t bring nobody else into it, ‘cause whatever shit you think I got goin’ on ain’t actually happenin’. I’m single now and I’m lettin’ off steam; that’s got fuck all t’do with you.” He called over his shoulder, avoiding looking down the staircase as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with Frank. Kit slammed his bedroom door closed behind him, though he was sure that wouldn’t keep Kace out. He changed anyway, grimacing at the putrid smell in the room, and how suffocating it was. Fuck, maybe he did need a change.
KACE CLARKE FRANK DAMASCA | no notes. |
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KACE CLARKE
Werewolf
untriggered
Posts: 98
Age:
30
Occupation:
Owner of the Diner
Status:
Single
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 20:04:23 GMT
|
Post by KACE CLARKE on Oct 15, 2023 19:22:16 GMT
Kace’s expression remained flat as Kit tried to scoff at the idea of killing himself. His brother hadn’t rotted his brain that badly yet, he fucking knew what that shit, no matter how your system handled it. The slope was slippery and one or two drinks became one or two bottles, a fistful or two of whatever the fuck he’d managed to buy from asshole who probably didn’t have a clue what was in the baggies that he handed out. ”Because they fuckin’ care, although you can’t seem to get that part through your head.” Why would people bother to love him when he was doing everything fucking possible to slowly destroy his life?
Was it guilt? The shit he’d looked up about PTSD, especially the kind that came with wearing a uniform, had talked about survivor’s guilt. Why them and not me? Why did the little brother who should’ve been safe at home end up the one in a casket? It was all weight on shoulders that shouldn’t have had to carry it and now one of the sets of arms that was helping him bear it was gone.
He hadn’t been in the room when Kit had fucked up that relationship, but he’d heard enough of the aftermath to know that he wasn’t just partying for shits and giggles now. It was another wound added to a body already scored with them and it felt as though he was sitting here now watching Kit laugh over bleeding out from them all.
”I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ fun, man, you weren’t either. It’s a job, one that you were takin’ seriously.” Kace frowned, feeling the lines that carved their way across his brow etch their way into his heart too. ”It woulda been the two of us workin’ together. Me keepin’ you from doin’ this shit. None of the others are, right? They’re all just lettin’ you do it.” Hannya had probably cackling, pressing one of those baggies into Kit’s palm before she dragged him away from the bar to help push him further over the edge with a body made of pure temptation. The thought left him stomach rolling again.
No matter how fucking ugly a picture he painted of what Kit was doing, he still seemed to be shrugging the entire thing off. Tonight it’d just be the same again. Shower, maybe strip off what remained on the bed and air the place out before he headed to the club to find the next woman to warm the spot that had once been Katja’s. A vicious cycle that one of them needed to break because Kit sure as hell wasn’t gonna.
As though Kit was a kid you couldn’t trust in the shower alone, Kace stood there hovering, snorting as his questions pinged off of Kit like he was bulletproof against them. Kace’s brows rose, incredulity filling the smile that was little more than a baring of his teeth. ”Her, fuckin’ fight for her. You think she woulda been that hurt about what you did if she didn’t love you enough to come back.” Maybe he was reading too much into what Katja felt, but he’d seen the two of them together and hadn’t imagined Katja would just walk after all she’d done for his big brother.
”How the fuck do you know she’s not if you haven’t said a word to her? She won’t look back if you don’t pick yourself up and even fuckin’ try.” Maybe he was banging his head against a brick wall with all of this – he’d still be in a better state than Kit if he was. Didn’t they always say some shit about not being able to help people if they weren’t ready to help themselves? This wasn’t an AA meeting – not that one of them would’ve been a bad idea right now – but it felt close enough to one. An intervention that was meant to pull Kit’s head out of his ass and stop the sickening decline that felt like it’d almost reached bottom this morning.
Frank’s footsteps were a slow creak in the hallway, each one another nail in the coffin of Kit’s addiction he hoped. He fucking knew it too. Kace saw the cringe and thanked whoever’s hand was on the wheel with all of this that Frank was gonna provide him backup. ”Why?” Kace asked as he followed Kit 0ut of the bathroom. No amount of running was stopping it now. ”It’s bullshit and you know it. It’s got everythin’ to do with me and with them when we have to watch you fallin’ apart. Even if she ain’t comin’ back, you think she’d wanna know you’re doin’ this. Wise the fuck up, let us help.” Kace turned as the door slammed in his face, catching Frank’s eye as he reached the top of the staircase. ”We’ve got a problem…”
Tagged: Frank Damasca & KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 814 |
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FRANK DAMASCA
Banshee
Posts: 127
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 18, 2024 17:04:31 GMT
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Post by FRANK DAMASCA on Oct 15, 2023 20:03:34 GMT
Frank shot Theo one last wave as he pulled out of the lot alongside the humanities block. They’d walked back after lunch, drinking in a little of the sun they usually wouldn’t have seen during the semester. Then lunch breaks were stacked with student meetings, sandwiches swallowed almost whole between the knocks that came at one office door or the other. Most of the time they’d just catch each other in passing, the Sundays spent around the table with the whole family their time to talk about their weeks. It was loud and raucous, but he wouldn’t have swapped it for the world, even when the memories of the same thing happening on bases across the world swam in and he was imagining Chaco interrupting from the end of the table, his ’wait, wait, wait!’ cutting in over everything else.
The cafeteria had been morgue quiet in comparison, only a handful of students occupying the space with them. Theo had spent half the time with his phone out, showing him practically every moment of Bo’s week in photos that were ridiculously cute admittedly. On the second kid and his brother still hadn’t gotten tired of being a parent. He’d told him it looked good on him as he thumped a hand on his back and had drawn back from the hug that’d come at the edge of the parking lot after.
Frank glanced in the rear view as he headed towards the closest way off the campus. Theo was already heading back towards the science building where he had his afternoon lab waiting for him. It never should’ve been a shock to him that his little brother had been the one to settle down and have kids, He’d never thought he was built for it himself – and not just because of his sexuality. Being gay had nothing to do with it, but the job did. Being active military didn’t mean that you couldn’t have a settled relationship, hell, a marriage, and kids, it just made it harder. Their parents had always made it work, Frank just hadn’t seen himself doing the same.
A little bit of regret rolled home with him. It wasn’t beyond him still – he wasn’t 90 yet, after all, even if he did feel like it some days – but it had seemed a little further out of reach since things had gone sour between Kit and Katja. The explosive end to whatever had been between the two of them hadn’t been missed by anybody in the house. They all knew exactly what happened and why and it had let a pall over the house that he couldn’t help but feel.
Glancing up at the bedroom windows as he rolled up behind Kace’s car in front of the house, Frank wondered just who was gonna slip out past him this time – if they hadn’t already scurried out at dawn. He’d at least been able to identify most of the others from the crowds at the bar. Those nights he spent at the club trying to keep watch over Kit had usually ended up with him slipping out to go home alone while Kit had found himself some sort of entertainment to keep the demons at bay. That was what it was all about, he wasn’t blind to that, he just wasn’t sure how to help defeat them.
The thought of maybe getting Freyja over here to do it for him had Frank snorting out a breath as he walked into the house. She’d never pulled her punches, especially with him. Freyja would go toe to toe with Kit, shoving a tiny hand at his chest, and metaphorically swatting away his bullshit until he was cowed by the spitfire his brother had married.
He dumped his bag at the door, would’ve kicked off his boots, but the sharp crack of voices upstairs had him frowning. Not female, at least, although maybe Katja coming over here would at least break the wall that seemed to have shot up between them. ”Hey,” Frank called out, the single word swallowed up by the slam of Kit’s bedroom door. He went up the stairs two at a time, frowning as he reached the top and saw the lines carved deep into Kace’s expression as he told him there was a problem.
No fucking shit. In less than a minute Kace had run through it all – from the same shit he’d witnessed at the club, to the panic of Kit not waking up and the denials that had peppered whatever conversation had gone on as Kace had tried to talk him around. Frank huffed out a breath, dragging a hand over his face to compose himself before he thumped a fist against Kit’s door. He didn’t bother waiting for an acknowledgement before he was opening it and leaning against the door frame with Kace lurking behind him. The smell of vomit had his nose wrinkling. ”You wanna run you’re gonna have to go out the window,” he warned. The frown settled deep on his face, the pit of his stomach twisting at the thought of Kace’s grim prophecies coming true after all they’d been through. ”What’s going on? This isn’t you and you know it – don’t even try telling me it is. You’re better than that.” Or he had been for a while. It had been a slow, hard climb away from this once, the thought of them ending up back at the bottom of that slope again was worrying him.
Tagged: KIT CLARKE & KACE CLARKE * Word Count: 917 |
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on Nov 20, 2023 21:46:48 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
He didn’t want help. He couldn’t take their help. This wasn’t their problem, it was his own shit to deal with, and he didn’t want to drag anybody down with him. He’d already done that once and he lost his fucking brother because of it.
Kit slammed the door behind him and glanced around his room, the stench of sweat and bile attacking his heightened senses immediately. Kit grimaced, then puffed out a breath and lowered himself onto the edge of his bare mattress, dropping his face to his hands. He could hear them talking outside the door, with Kace obviously blowing the whole thing outta proportion. He didn’t almost die. He was still breathin’, wasn’t he?
He knew they weren’t just gonna leave him be after this, but he hoped… for, like, a second. A second of stupidity, obviously.
The knock came, and he didn’t have time to yell ‘Fuck off!’ before Frank was throwing open the door, with Kace still behind him. Were they fuckin’ tag-teaming this?
“Don’t tempt me.” Kit grumbled, slowly dragging his gaze up to the pair. “Better than fuckin’ what, man?” He snapped, jumping to his feet to face Frank head-on. “Better than hurtin’ Katja so bad she fuckin’ walks out? Better than partyin’ all night? That’s what I was like when I moved in, man. You were like it, too. Ain’t my fault you got boring.” The edge of his lips tipped up in a smirk like he could joke his way out of this. All he wanted was for them to forget about it and move on. “I’m good. Just got carried away yesterday.” He lifted a hand and dropped it on Frank’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately.
KACE CLARKE | no notes. |
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KACE CLARKE
Werewolf
untriggered
Posts: 98
Age:
30
Occupation:
Owner of the Diner
Status:
Single
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 6, 2024 20:04:23 GMT
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Post by KACE CLARKE on Dec 19, 2023 18:22:14 GMT
Maybe if they were still teenagers a slammed door would’ve stopped the whole argument. He’d have stormed off to his bedroom, or taken off for the beach, leaving Kit to brood off whatever the fuck he wouldn’t let him help with. They weren’t that young, that innocent or that naïve anymore. The last few years had been a brutal shit show. Consequences weren’t light now, it wasn’t just that him and Kit wouldn’t speak for a couple of days, or they’d end up grounded. People had died, he’d died, and no matter what fucked up head space Kit was in, Kace wasn’t about to believe that Kit couldn’t see exactly where he was heading.
The shit you swallowed, snorted or injected was a temporary numbing at best. At worst, it was just another fucking hurdle to trip over later when that haze lifted and you were right back in the centre of whatever was fucking you up. Cheating on Katja had been a mega fucking mistake, a hurting asshole’s way of trying not to feel lonely, or fragile, or whatever shitty emotion had its claw’s in Kit. Trying to push away the guilt and avoid making up for it for her sake was an idiot’s way of dealing with that mistake. Kit wasn’t an idiot, no matter what impression the long hair and goofy grin gave off. He was smart and infuriating and about to get double dose of reality.
Thank fuck for Frank in so many ways. Kace coulda tipped his head back and fired off a thank you for the backup to whoever was maliciously pulling the strings up there. Kit could undoubtedly hear every fucking word he told Frank about finding him practically comatose on whatever he’d taken, still tangled up with the two women he’d brought home last night. The throwing up, the shower he’d shoved Kit into, the fear that had bubbled up into his chest as he’d had that lightning bolt thought that this might be, that he was gonna be burying his brother the same way they’d buried him. Kace could see the lines deepening around Frank’s mouth and knew he wasn’t just gonna blow it off the way Kit would’ve waited him to.
”You try it, you’re taking me out of it with you.” Kace planted himself in front of the window, propping his hips back against the sill. He crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders hunching up towards his ears. Kit could probably flatten him with a finger and still make the leap, but he doubted it was anything more than another bitchy whine out of his mouth because he didn’t wanna hear that people gave a shit about him right now, or that he was fucking up badly enough to scare those people.
As Frank tried to scrape Kit’s self-confidence off of the floor, Kace scoffed lightly, shaking his head. He coulda been smacking the words through his thick skull with a damn frying pan, but it was still gonna be the same – Kit could only see how he’d fucked up and what he thought he deserved now. All the bullshit. ”You mean when you were all fucked in the head because your brother was dead and haunting you?” Kace asked dryly. He winced inwardly. That was shitty, but the kid gloves were doing jack shit to start pulling Kit back from the edge. ”What would you have said if that was me in that bed? You wouldn’t even let me work at the club because you were worried about how much shit I could end up drownin’ in. Why have you gotta go wadin’ in it for your fun?” Because getting carried away meant he could still look like he was having fun while he was punishing himself.
Kace unfolded his arms, dragging his hands over his face. He wasn’t about to start screaming Kamilla style, he wasn’t about to start spouting the hippy-dippy Hollywood holistic rehab shit either. Taking shots wasn’t working though, the gilded bullshit was still rolling from Kit’s mouth and he wanted to tear every word of it out so they could start hearing the truth. Was it his coming back from the dead that had started to turn the tide the last time, or had it been Katja? ”How are we gonna stop this?” The bitter heat had drained from his voice as he looked up at Frank instead of his brother. Whatever it had been, Frank had seen it, the guy had to know what the fuck to do here when the one person he’d always relied on to tell him what he needed to hear was incapable of doing it.
Tagged: Frank Damasca & KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 779 |
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FRANK DAMASCA
Banshee
Posts: 127
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 18, 2024 17:04:31 GMT
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Post by FRANK DAMASCA on Dec 19, 2023 20:16:01 GMT
It’s just a phase. In a few months you’re gonna look back and realise that you what you were having to do isn’t necessary anymore.
It had sounded like bullshit then and, God, he’d been happy to leave the talks behind when Theo had finally wheeled him out of the facility. Losing your team and almost losing your own life when an IED tore everything apart didn’t leave you in a place where you could just talk it all. Broken bones knitted, stitches held shredded flesh together long enough for it to heal, but your brain didn’t work that way, not even if it looked like you’d walked out of that nightmare physically intact. Then all he’d wanted was to be left alone to try and hold those pieces together.
Frank stood in front of the guy who’d come through that with him, knowing that Kit was probably back in the same place now. The fact that it was the third time his life had been blown apart didn’t make any of this easier. It was probably all the worse for it, because you thought you knew how you were gonna drag yourself out of the rubble, you’d done it before, that should make it easier this time around, right?
His nose wrinkled at the scent of puke, alcohol and something far muskier – eau de breakdown. He glanced past Kit to where Kace was stationing himself in front of the window like Kit had been serious. They both knew that if he wanted out, it wouldn’t take much to steamroll him out of the way. Kit knew his weaknesses the exact way he knew his and neither one of them was the sort to take advantage of them.
Kace might’ve been rattled, but the shit coming out of his mouth wasn’t helpful right now – some of the shit the head shrinkers had spouted had stuck enough for him to know that. Holding his hand out towards him slightly to try and ward off the sort of comments that’d just turn this into a full out fight. He met Kit’s eye as he bounced to his feet, holding his gaze and his ground. ”Better than taking things too far. We love you and we’re worried about you.” More so than ever now.
”I’m not gonna tell you that you need to go chasing after her. You’re right, she’s hurt, but so are you and you’ve both gotta deal with that.” Repairing the damage between them was only gonna happen when Kit started getting his head on straight again. Kit might’ve been smirking, but Frank just stared back at him, his expression edged with concern.
He shook his head, raising a hand to touch Kit’s arm as he grabbed his shoulder. Maybe he had got boring, what he’d definitely got was past some of his own nightmares. He didn’t need to try and burn them out of his head every night just to survive anymore. Now when he went to the club it was as Kit’s wingman, his guardian angel, who’d been doing a piss-poor job of it apparently. ”It’s not for fun,” Frank muttered, defending Kit. Kace knew why Kit was doing all of it, he’d just never lived through that same reality.
”How about you don’t get carried away anymore?” Frank suggested lightly. The smile came now, faint, encouraging. ”The next time you wanna party, call me. No matter when, I’ll get there and we’ll do whatever it takes alright, but no more of this…” His stomach twisted as he glanced around at the room, at the twisted bed clothes, the mess that reflected Kit’s life. ”How about you take it a little easier? I know you didn’t mean to scare your brother, or me. Cut it back to a couple a nights a week. Let us see you really are good. I’m not gonna be a hypocritical asshole and tell you to stop everything. I’m not kicking you out, but you can’t get carried away anymore.” His hand tightened on Kit’s arm, like he could straighten him up with that support alone. You didn’t leave your brother when shit got bad, that was when you stayed by their side and held them together.
Tagged: KIT CLARKE & KACE CLARKE * Word Count: 704 |
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
|
Post by KIT CLARKE on Jan 16, 2024 19:36:05 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
But it was different, and he’d explained that before. He was used to this. He used these vices as a way to escape his problems, but he didn’t allow himself to get wrapped up in the kind of shit Hannya was pulling there. She thrived on his sickness, and he knew that━Kace had been walking in blind. But he’d told him all of this, and somehow none of it mattered anymore. Like one fuck up made absolutely everything he ever said completely worthless.
He rounded on Frank again, ganged up on by both his brothers, and while he’d always felt like he’d failed only one of them, it began to feel like it was both now. But then Frank answered for him, and Kit’s head spun a bit. How did that make any sense? Whose side was Frank on?
And when they began to talk like Kit wasn’t in the room, it became clear again━they were still on each other’s. Yeah, maybe they’d say ‘we’re on your side!’ but Kit wasn’t an idiot. He knew they loved him, that they were just worried, but that was the point. Kit didn’t think there was anything to be worried about.
Frank tried again, and even though Kit knew it was just a ploy to get him to change, he figured he could meet them halfway. Yeah, he’d gone a bit too far, but he could fix that. And if it meant he never had to deal with this shit again, then he’d do it. How were they gonna complain if he was just following the parameters they set out?
“You better not kick me out; I pay half your fuckin’ mortgage.” Kit grumbled, but he lifted his eyes to Frank’s and let a smile ghost his lips, trying to show that he was only teasing.
“Fine.” He said finally, with a puff, a wry smile growing on his features. “But there are gonna be chicks, so you better figure yourself out on that one.” And that was just about the only similarity about this situation that Kit was sure Frank would let him bring.
KACE CLARKE | end here or w one of yours? |
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hope to see you in the discord! 
