#SOMEBADGUYS. ( cash. )

[fidelityfcrged]

She had only been gone a few days -- she and two of the other members of the pack had left to trade the fur, leather and dried meats from their traps for grains, cloth, fresh fruit and vegetables - things they could not typically harvest on their own, with their nomadic lifestyle. Only two, three days, and she had come back to chaos. Or close enough to it. A trophy, one of the newer cubs had crowed, dangling the vampire's fangs from a leather cord he'd wrapped around them.

It had been enough to make her queasy. She fought because she had to, because it was necessary to protect her, and her family. This -- this was not that. It took her very little time to hand off her goods and find Cash, where he and a couple others of the pack had been sitting around the fire in the back cavern, making an effort to keep her voice level and her tone calm as she asked them to leave her alone with their leader.

She did not know where in the cavern system he had hidden the vampire, but the scent of the leech stung her nostrils strongly enough that she knew that it must still be alive -- or whatever passed for living. "What have you done?" Fear and anger alike seeped into her words, despite her efforts, and she could feel the tension knot, hot and violent, in the pit of her stomach and at the nape of her neck. "How could you bring one of them here?" Into their home, temporary as it was.

@somebadguys

[brittlefcrged]

@somebadguys - cash gets a starter.

"Can we just stay in tonight baby?" It wasn't like she didn't enjoy their nights out, especially since he never failed to find someplace suitably intense for their misadventures together, but even with her ... twelve? Fourteen? hour crash after multiple days nearly non stop in the studio side of the renovated warehouse that served as her haven from the chaos and pressures of the outside world, she was feeling more than a little worn down. And as happy as she was for his company, she'd really rather curl up and binge eat and let him pick a season of whatever he wanted to stream than try and handle being around people that weren't just him. "We can order whatever you want, just curl up and veg for a while?" Her expression wasn't quite a pout, and her tone wasn't quite pleading - but they were close.

[factiousfcrged]

@somebadguys / cash gets a pre plotted ish starter.

This? This right here is why he was glad, most of the time, that he didn't have family. That he didn't have more than a handful of people, at the best of times, that he had to concern himself over, or trying to figure out where they were, what they were doing, who they were doing --

His head still throbbed, dully, from the excess alcohol the night before, and the conversation that had gone along with it, despite Hale's attempt at keeping him hydrated, and the meds he'd taken that morning. He did not want to be here right now, for a number of reasons, but here he was, nonetheless, a series of loud, intrusive pounds on the door of Cash's hole in the wall apartment waiting for the man to crawl his way out of bed to answer the damn door.

"Cash, I know you're in there." His words are loud enough to be heard, without quite reaching yelling decibels, and it was probably easy enough by the low rumble and irritation in them that he was not happy about the situation at hand. "Open the fucking door, Cash, before I bust it in."

[fidelityfcrged]

"Hmph," the den mother chuffs in response, the wooden spoon she's stirring with bapped lightly against his knuckles as a mimicry of chastisement for his theft. "You'd think that at least one of them would've had the decency to see to the dishes properly before dinner is served." It's exasperated, but affectionate. She knows well enough that in the intervening time between now and when it's time to actually serve dinner, the long and sturdy wooden table will somehow be cleaned off and set with all the required utensils and dishes for the small horde to eat from, but that doesn't make the annoyance any less at this particular moment.

She twists in his hold, arms coming to settle on his shoulders, a nose scrunch offered, equally just as annoyed and affectionate as the rest of the banter that had preceded it. "No, I wouldn't," Hannah confirms, even though she knows as well as he did that if he truly didn't want the other lycans here, they simply wouldn't be. But she wasn't going to point that out to him, at least directly. Appearances, and all. "Where else would they go, anyhow?" It's a tease, but there's a painful truth to it as well. They were a rarity: a close knit pack that had a place to call home that was far enough out of the way of cities and far enough away from the vampire's covens that they could have a life, a home, a family. After centuries spent having to move every few months, at most, for their own preservation this was as much his dream as it was hers. "But if you don't stop interrupting me while I'm in the middle of cooking, there might well be one less person to concern myself with."

so many people in this house and not a clean dish to be found.  (exasperated wolf mum hannah w/ cash modern day ish) uw verse // @fidelityfcrged

“Yeah, well. That’s why there’s nothin’ clean, ain’t it?” He's got a hand in the pan of food she's cooking before she can even slap it away. When she inevitably rounds on him, it's already gone, no evidence but his cheeky smile that any crime had occurred at all. "Too many people in this house."

It's lighthearted enough, but only half in jest. If Cash had it his way, he'd have no one else in the house at all, save from Hannah and himself. A good thing they have so much property: the 3,000 square foot home and surrounding acreage houses more than twelve lycans, at any given moment, and it's impossible to kick any of them out. For one thing, more than a few of them are their own children.

"Got a solution for that, though." An arm ensnares her by the waist, pulling her back against him, away from the stove. Demanding attention, as he was like to do. "Not that you'll let me kick them out."

[underworldfcrged]

@factiousfcrged Amos; Lycan. Lt. in Lucian's pack; one of the survivors of Viktor's original keep. Was there when Arthur & Desi returned to the keep & was part of the initial pack that cornered them until Lucian told them to back down; knows Desi was close to Sonja, was there when Lucian buried Sonja's remains. Travels with Lucian to his occasional meetings with Arthur to strategize and get resources in order for the packs way back when, continued to go with over time & eventually became lovers with Desi - though this is a fact known (in theory) only to Lucian, Desi, Arthur & Amos. @valiantsword @aeternals

@fidelityfcrged Hannah; Lycan. Mama wolf of Cash's pack; Cash was one of the survivors of Viktor's original keep. Has a vampire brother - Desi, history of that is a wip but she ran away from her father's home after Desi's death & when her father was trying to marry her off; was rescued from Not Nice People by Cash and shortly after asked to be turned. Has (had?) a son with Cash named Nathaniel, fate tbd. Survives to modern day plots, though not without a lot of loss and a lot of fighting along the way. Fights because she has to, to protect her own, not because she wants to. @somebadguys

@nomadicfcrged Dante; Lycan. US Army Ranger, listed as mia presumed kia during Desert Storm after he and his team went missing and no bodies were found. He and his team stumbled into a Lycan pack during the full moon. He was the only survivor, and just barely at that, becoming a member of the pack out of necessity at first, and eventually, joining Lucian's pack / rebellion. A decade or so later (details tbd) he is still keeping an eye from afar on his little sister, aka Bambi, while she's traveling, he finds out she's in trouble and goes to rescue her, arrives too late to prevent her from coming to harm and chooses to bite her on the hopes that she'll survive bc there's no other way she'll survive her injuries. @sonderiings

[fidelityfcrged]

@aeternals / desi & @somebadguys / cash

It had only been a few days since her arrival on Tycho and so much of her world ... and everyone else's, to be fair ... was in upheaval to the point she wasn't sure which way was up or down anymore. Nathaniel -- Desi -- had arranged for a hotel room for her, though she still didn't know if she was staying, or going -- if Tycho would be safer than Luna, or vice versa. Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Tycho, and more had fallen under attack in the same twenty four hour period and there was still no one to blame, and no one to tell anyone else what to do about ... any of it.

It was too much, all at once, and so, she, like so many others, seemed just -- on a loop. Going about the day to day, the hour to hour, because what was the alternative? It was just too much.

Still, it seemed strange to be sitting at a bar, seltzer water and lime in hand, while music played, and people danced. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to a bar, to be honest. But it had seemed ... a neutral territory for Na-- Desi. There were still so many questions she wanted to ask him. So much she wanted to tell him. "Is ... Is Amos going to be joining us?" Two seltzer waters in, there was still a sense of awkwardness between them that she didn't know how to work past, and she found herself contemplating just how bad it would be, if she just let herself have a glass of wine. Two, max. She could handle just one.

[fidelityfcrged]

@somebadguys / cash gets a starter.

This was a mistake.

She hadn't known how to find him. Hadn't wanted to. It was easier that way. Better that way. But somehow, she'd found herself back at the bar that she and -- Desi had been to, asking the bartender -- Hale? Henry? If he could pass a message along to Cash ... if he saw him. If it wasn't too much trouble.

The noodle cafe was out of the way, but generally pretty well populated, from what she'd seen the few times she'd been there to eat during her stay on station, and it was close to her hotel which was -- just. Convenient. Easier for her to not get lost. It wasn't raucous, but it wasn't intimate either. It should be ... safe. Neutral territory.

She'd already been waiting almost a half hour past the time that she'd told Cash she'd be there, if he wanted to talk. Three shots of sake, or ... well, they called it sake, and half a bowl of noodles later, she was only more anxious than when she'd started. She half stood, ready to call it a night, to go back to her room, to just forget it. Forget everything. It was better that way.

"Cash." Had he always done that? Seemed to just spring up out of nowhere? Had she just been too glitzed out of her head to notice? A hint of color slid over her cheeks, and she sat back down in her chair, a stilted gesture to the chair across from her at the table. "I ... wasn't sure you'd come."

[factiousfcrged]

Even riding harder than he would have under most circumstances, pushing the horses as hard as he could along the way, it took him longer than he wanted it to to make his way across country to where the message had come from. He had traveled alone - anyone else but Lucian would have slowed him down, and if it was a trap, it was better one that caught just him, and not Lucian too. He had barely stopped for sleep, or food, and neither of those had done wonders for his already sour temperament, and by the time that he arrived, he did not have time to waste with pleasantries.

The leader of this pack was known to him - another that had been held in the pens at the keep before it fell. One that had chosen to go his own way, and make a life, and pack of his own. Which was well enough - the part of the current circumstances that had Amos on edge was something that he knew he could not begin to explain or find understanding with these lycans. They had simply had the misfortune of capturing the wrong vampire.

Dismounting, he dropped the reins forward to give the horse its own lead, to graze or find water or sleep as it needed, striding forward to the cave entrance where the pack leader stood, waiting. "Take me to him." It was not diplomatic, though he made a concerted effort to not make it sound exactly like an order. "I need to see him for myself." He did not waste time with the formalities of unnecessary introductions.

He spared only a brief glance to the few other members of the pack that remained before heading into the tunnels. The scent of vampire blood makes his nape clench, his face displaying irritation and tiredness, the dust of the road, and, the underlying anger that he was so well known for. Very little of that changed, much, as he stepped into the cavern that had been turned into a holding cell. Desi was manacled at the ankles, and despite some attempt to clean him up, it was clear that he had seen better days. A flare of nostrils, a twist of his wrist in a slow and controlled circle, the snap, crackle, pop of knuckles and joints as he mustered control. "You are the one that captured him?" His gaze does not leave Desi, the words pitched towards Cash.

@somebadguys

@factiousfcrged gets a starter

the smells in the air, even hidden deep in the cave, had shifted shortly after his initial conversation with his sister. sounds reverberated down the walls that made him think of movement and packing. hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. either way, desiderius would learn what his fate would be and, at the very least, he'd go with a little more dignity than he originally thought. while not being as clean as he was used to, he'd been able to wipe a layer of blood and grime from his skin. that alone was worth a mountain of gold.

days later, perhaps more, there was another commotion on the outside. different voices came together in a muddle of white noise. being so far removed from the mouth of the cave, the vampire couldn't tell ( again ) if it was good or bad. anxiety dug all five clawed fingers down into the center of his chest, yanking. muscles tightened in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

several forms came walking towards him, desi flinched and then cowered back. hannah was distinctly not one of the shapes. maybe it was death, after all. fingers flex into a fist but hesitate on lifting. did he fight? all those fears about putting her in danger come rushing back but so does the image of amos's face.

instinct makes him growl, even as he pulls his legs up towards his chest.

[fidelityfcrged]

@somebadguys / cash sent a meme.

“I don’t know what you are looking for in me.”

"I'm not looking for anything, Cash, believe me." She was so far beyond the point of hoping for anything from anyone, or trusting anyone to give her anything that she couldn't give herself at this point she couldn't even see that from here. "Good times, had by all," Annie declared, a sweeping gesture flung out around them as she spun in a dizzying circle, only spilling about ... a third of her current drink on the bar's floor. "Good times, and good times, only, so if you're going to be a buzz kill, babe, just -- do me a favor and don't, okay?"

[fidelityfcrged]

By the time she makes her way out of the tunnels and into the clearing where the pack has gathered to perform preparations for the morning meal, she feels a bone weary exhaustion that she has not felt in years sinking it’s way through her. Emotional whiplash and the physical exertion of keeping her rage, and her fear, and all of the parts of her that made up her inner beast in check had drained her. She did not know if her distress was that poorly disguised, or if Cash’s abrupt departure earlier in the night was responsible for the space that she was given as she made her way out of camp, but regardless of the cause, she was grateful for it. She did not have it in her now to muster good will and warmth her packmates deserved from her.

She cut a sharp path towards the nearest bend of the river that would give her access to the icy waters and leave her in alarm distance of the camp but also leave her space and at least the pretense of privacy. Trudging her way through the trees in the first creeping rays of dawn, with the familiar scents and sounds of the wildlife around her lifted some of the pressure from her chest, and by the time she reached the river banks, she felt like she could breathe without much of a weight in her lungs. She crouched, sleeves rolled up so that she could plunge her hands into the water, scrubbing almost viciously at her arms, forearms, and then her face and neck and chest, twice, and then again. The scent of the vampire and the pig’s blood lingered, and she knew it was in her hair, her clothes, her nostrils. She would have to strip and scrub in entirety to be free of it.

Not that it would help. The moment she stepped back into camp, it would find her again.

Tears slipped, again, despite her attempt to scrub them away, and she sank down, cross legged, anger at herself as prevalent as all the other emotions that fought for dominance. She was meant to be strong. She did not feel strong. She felt small. And weak. And young. And afraid. She felt just like she had lifetimes ago when she'd learned of Des' death. And now? He was here, and he was lost to her, all over again.

Her hands pressed against her eyes, elbows resting on her knees, only drawn up as the familiar scent teased on the wind, and the sound of steps drew closer, and she felt the familiar pressure and comfortable weight of his hand on her shoulder. She turned and rose in the same movement, her head burrowing in beneath his chin, her arms flung around his chest.

@somebadguys / cash, uw.

[fidelityfcrged]

Underworld verse is basically way back when her father was planning on giving her in marriage for property and higher power in the church; last minute, she runs away and ends up in trouble on the road. She’s rescued by Cash @somebadguys and his roaming Lucan pack. He takes her back to Lucian & she is bitten & has been part of the pack ever since.

[fidelityfcrged]

The slight frown lingers, teeth dragging against the inside of her cheek again, when he tries to wave off her concern, though the pensive expression fades away into unadulturated glee as he returns with a mug for her, hands wrapping eagerly around it, drawing it close and letting her eyes close as she breathes it in. She could swear, just the scent alone was enough to help the pounding of her pulse in her skull. A small, careful sip is taken, the slight scalding of taste buds a trade off that she was more than willing to make. "God, I haven't had a cup of actual coffee in like -- a week or more," she exhaled, her body relaxing back against the wall again.

"Oh --" She's grateful that her eyes are closed right then - she isn't sure what might've reflected in them, if they hadn't. Regret? Relief? Disappointment? "Yeah, of course." It's a little too bright, a little too breezy, but maybe he doesn't know how to read every syllable, every pitch of her words, like he used to.

Maybe.

Lashes part, and she starts to reach for the pills offered, before there's a tilt in her stomach, and a twinge of guilt, or panic, or both, that flitters across her features. "I ... Is it just aspirin or ...?" Teeth drag, and pinch against her lower lip, fingers curling in on themselves as she waits for his response.

A smirk. “Yeah. None of us are, sweetheart.” She looks good, though. Better than when he'd first met her, but he's not about to tell her that, because he's not an idiot. Not as skinny now, though. Eyes not as wild. And maybe she's skittish as a goddamn mouse, but she doesn't feel so frazzled at the edges, like she's trying to run away from herself. All he's got to show for getting older is a couple new scars, but he guesses it could be worse. Could be dead.

But she's still got his hand in gentle fingers. It's too tender. Too soft. He doesn't know what to do with it, so he uses the excuse of getting the coffee to extricate himself again.

"Nah. Be alright." He's got a contact who can probably fit him in sometime this week -- and shouldn't be hard to scrounge up some meds. Hell, he's got harder shit than painkillers stored away in his place right now. Speaking of. "Need somethin' for the headache, yeah?" He gets her some of his run of the mill stuff, taking the coffee in his good hand. Brings it back, hiding a smile at the way she lights up like it's a fuckin' holiday. But in the back of his mind, he's already retreating. If this morning taught him anything, it's that this won't last. That he's not gonna let it.

"Got some stuff to do soon." It's a lie, but not like she knows his schedule. A tilt of his head indicates the cup. "It can wait until you're finished, though."

[fidelityfcrged]

"Mmm," is the only response he gets when he tells her the time. She's grateful for the fact that she doesn't have to worry about trying to get to work today, though that does bring a twinge of guilt with it - she's going to have to find a way to get some of her things shipped to her if she's going to stay on station much longer. She still has bills to pay. A small sigh of relief escapes as the scent of the coffee reaches her -- she doesn't know how he got his hands on genuine coffee beans, but she doesn't know if she particularly wants to, either, so she doesn't think too hard on it. "That smells divine," she comments, pulling herself further upright as he wanders back.

"Oh." Concern settles on her features, some of the fuzzy warmth of a good night's sleep dissipating as the full extent of the damage to his knuckles and fingers come into view. "This didn't happen last night, did it -- what happened?" Carefully placed fingers tilt his hand one direction and the other. "You need x rays, proper meds," she protests, "stitches." His concern for her, and the teasing tone, is only met with a somewhat stern glance. "I'm not as young as I used to be," Hannah replied, dryly.

“Little after ten.” He’s not gonna think about how normal it feels to have her here. Or how different it is not to wake up and start the day alone. In fact, that train of thought has him getting up right then and there, under the pretense of making the coffee, but he stands for a long, silent moment in the kitchen just trying to clear his thoughts. Clenches the fist of shattered fingers, using the pain to ground him again.

Get a fuckin’ grip, Cash.

He’s got real, quality coffee for two reasons, and two reasons alone. First, it was payment for a job done, and two, exactly for times like this. It’s impressive to pull the real shit out; people never expect him to have it, and he loves to keep people on their toes. Not that he won’t drink it with her, but he’s got no appreciation for the fine things in life. His palette is decidedly geared towards cheap, greasy food rockgut liquor.

Once he’s got it going, he rummages in a cabinet, finding some semi decent scrap of fabric that’ll keep his hand from dripping blood all over shit. Comes back over to her, sat on the edge of the bed and tosses the makeshift bandage to her like it’s the most normal thing in the world ( and to him, it is ).

“Help me out, huh?” Pauses, arching a look at her — and amusement sets itself at his lips. “You hungover?”

[fidelityfcrged]

Anxiety and anticipation tangle in the pit of her stomach in the heavy pause that follows her words, and she can feel her heartbeat skip, she can feel the nervous bobble in her throat as she gulps down a breath. Had she read him wrong? Was he still -- and maybe rightfully so -- angry with her? Or maybe she'd been deluding herself, into thinking that he'd cared, at all then, much less now, after all this time, even enough to pretend.

And then he's closer than he was before, and she can feel the pitter patter in her chest that races as his fingers graze along her skin, and she can feel the shiver that dances down her spine. Her hand slides, tracing the curves of his chest, fingers tightening in at the edge of the neckline of his shirt, clinging to him as her head tilts back, the familiar sensation of his fingers dragging into her hair eliciting a quiet gasp. Her hair is longer now, by a great deal, than it ever was before, nearly to her waist now, when it had barely grazed her neck, at its longest, then.

The softest sound, a half exhale of a moan, lost in his lips as they find hers, and she arches up, onto her toes, pressing her mouth to his, her hand curling into his waist, and neck, as her body melts into his.

He should’ve seen it coming. Except he kinda did; just hadn’t been willing to change course despite the trajectory. For one, stupid moment, he’s gone soft: he looks at her, and all he can think of is how she’s just drunk, and fucked up, and probably lonely, and the last thing she needs is him holding on and dragging her back down to hell again. It’s just a moment, but it drags on forever, to him, angel and devil sat on his shoulders and him caught, indecisive, as they��re bickering.

The devil wins. It always does. So what if she’d been drinking? Never stopped either of them before. She’s a grown goddamn woman now — not a girl — and he’s not gonna pretend she can’t make her own decisions. Especially not when they align with his. So he tugs her closer against him. Stares at her under the sodium lit lamp of the side street they’re standing in, the way the shadows play across her face. In a hundred little ways, she’s completely different. But in this? It’s still the same.

So he slides a palm over her collarbone, her neck, drinking in the way goosebumps grow under him. And when fingers thread through her hair, it’s gentle — or not rough, which to him is the same difference. But the grin he gives her hasn’t changed. It’s still a warning ( not that she’ll listen ).

“Your wish is my command.” And the wolfish grin at his lips fades away as it presses against hers.

[fidelityfcrged]

She tried to take the time to think if she'd forgotten something from the night before that might have ended up with him hurt before she registered that she wasn't anywhere near cogent enough to try and work that out, especially with the dull throb of an almost-but-not-quite hangover headache that was teasing at her temples. "Oh, god, yes, please," she said, with as much fervor as she might have once begged for another hit of glimmer. "Just -- black, though. And -- maybe any aspirin, or something, if you've got any?"

She's pretty sure she has some in her bag, but she has no idea where that got dropped in the room last night - earlier that morning? - and she was in no rush to move to look for it. Her thumb traced lightly over his fingers where they peeked out from the wrapping, and some part of her brain registered that the blood was still damp. She almost asked. Then decided maybe it wasn't worth it. "What time is it, anyways?" The words are halfway interrupted by a yawn that she half hides with an elbow, before finally summoning enough energy to scooch up just a little, to let her head and shoulders rest against the wall behind the bed.

When she looks up at him through her lashes and gives a smile, he knows he’s going to hell for this. Knows he’s willing to let her stay. To try and keep her for as long as he can, even now that he knows how it worked out before. She doesn’t belong here, in this life, down in the muck — but he’s sure as hell not gonna turn her away.

“Nothin’. Forget it.” Every pulse of his heartbeat runs through his hand, and he welcomes it. Steadies himself with the pain. Still. Might have to see about getting it fixed after she leaves, if he wants to make use of it again. His gaze runs over her, the line of her body under the sheet, already thinking about how much he wants to take her again. Tongue darts over his lips. “You want coffee?”

[fidelityfcrged]

It almost feels like time has rewound. It almost feels like nothing has changed. But she know it has. His hands are familiar, in hers, but she can feel callouses that she doesn't remember. His face, is the same, but she can see the hint of lines, and creases, where there were none, before. She was not as graceful, on her feet, several shots of alcohol in, as she had been, either. She knew it was different -- and she needed it to be, she needed those subtle reminders, to keep herself in check -- to try to. She wasn't young, and dumb, anymore. She didn't have the excuse of ignorance, or naivety.

Still, that smile -- it made her heart flutter, and her breath catch, and for a moment, all she could think of is what it would feel like, against her lips. Against her skin. "I -- " She wasn't Annie, though. And it wasn't just herself, she had to think about, anymore. There were lines she couldn't cross, anymore. Her head was spinning, just enough to make her lag, her fingers catching and tightening against his, her other hand catching on the edge of his shoulder to keep herself upright, steps drawn up short as she skidded to a stop. His eyes meet hers, again, and she can feel the tension in her spine, and shoulders, can feel the ghost of the electricity from his touch on her skin. "I want you to kiss me."

He’s gotta get some air. Gotta get some distance from her, but it’s not gonna happen tonight, is it? Great fuckin’ plan, Cash. Take her out when she’s wasted, to do bad shit, when she just admitted that he’s the only reason she kept doing it. He’s the problem. But the other problem is this: he’s a selfish bastard, so he doesn’t give a shit.

They’re just gonna have a little harmless fun.

“Don’t know yet.” And he’s not being coy — he really doesn’t. “That’s part of the fun though, yeah?” He glances sidelong at her, and it's then that he realizes he's still holding her hand. Doesn't know whether or not to drop it, now, or if that's gonna make it more wierd -- shit. Whatever. She looked like she needs a little help walking, and that's the excuse he's gonna stick with.

"Pretend it doesn't matter. Pretend nothin' matters, don't think about any of it. What would you wanna do?" Maybe it's not helpful, but it's how he thinks. And frankly? She could take a lesson from him, in this one instance. Mouth kicks up at a corner. "What would Annie wanna do?"