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[ AWM ] Analyze My Mental
#1

rhychdir bradshagh
wanna see my machine gun


The Bradshagh marched, claws clicking on the cave floor softly. The air was stale, almost cold in the area that she was in. It was strange, still, to call them home. Perhaps that was the part of her that was her father speaking. How could a Bradshagh ever call a cold place ‘home?’ They belonged in the hellfire of the Volcano’s slopes. She imagined her mother quipping back: ‘Did ya fuckin’ forget where I was born, fucker?

A small smile touched the woman’s lips. She wondered where her parents were. Were they still alive? She hadn’t seen then in some time – perhaps little over a year? – just as she hadn’t seen another who claimed the name Bradshagh in some time. She wondered if she was the last one left? Had something befallen her bloodline of absolute bastards? No, she decided. They were too stubborn to go out. Somewhere out there, there was another Bradshagh. There had to be.

Her tail lifted slightly, and a small growl came from her. She wasn’t yet used to the scents of those she now resided with. “Who the fuck is there?” Her words came out as a gruff bark, as eyes of ice and fire scanned the dimly lit tunnel around her, spying darkened places where another could emerge from.


“I am speaking”
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RHYCHDIR IS RATED M FOR LANGUAGE

CONSIDER THE BRADSHAGH FAMILY
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#2

Urna et pharetra pharetra massa massa ultricies mi quis hendrerit.

She travels down dampened halls carved by ocean's breath and liquid sword, paws moving silently upon rough stone. It is eerily quiet; the lack of the sea's rasping gasp almost jarring amidst clacking of claws. Her brain seems to offer a replacement of the noise when she imagines the rushing of waves behind her, despite the distance she is from it.

The tunnel is an uncommonly used passage. She can tell from the lack of permeated pack scent and from its removal from the central core of the cave system. Lachlan had not specified how her presence would be dealt with but she had no plans to fraternise with his crowd in the near future. (And really, she doubted he would have wanted her to either with her controversial residence.)

As she continues onwards, she gradually begins to feel at ease when the pressure of keeping out of sight begins to leave her. The Underworld had yet to stretch its influence as far as this place, so for now, she can pass through without a fuss.

Her path is surprisingly long with very few intersections linking it to other tunnels and for a moment she worries she might have travelled just a little too far. Where is she in relation to the rest of the world? With nothing but bioluminescent fungi and other dark-dwelling things, not much changes around her and suddenly, the caves seem consuming. Inhaling, she muses to herself that perhaps she should return.

Nodding, she turns around and begins to make the trip back to Lachlan's dwelling. She barely makes a step when a voice barks crassly in the dark. Freezing, she inhales sharply, eyes widening at the fact that she hadn't noticed their scent. Sniffing, she gasps softly at the obvious smell of the stranger and their ties to the Underworld. Cursing under her breath, she berates herself furiously for missing it. Stupid!

Pressing up against the tunnel wall, she hopes that the shadows would shield her from the pack wolf and starts to sidle away.

- an attempt to exit by Anaïs -

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#3

rhychdir bradshagh
wanna see my machine gun


There was a strange occurrence when one spent a few days without being in direct sunlight. The eyes adjust, everything taking a dark grey hue, just so long as it was stone. The faintest hints of light that filtered through some places in the caves allowed for the detection of movement, even in things that appeared to be pitch black. The Bradshagh stood rigid, staring into the dark. She knew that someone was there. She could detect a scent that was unfamiliar in the stale air of the caves.

“I’m not fuckin’ stupid, I can fuckin’ smell ya,” she snapped, her voice echoing off the stones. Her tail lifted slightly, curling above her spine as the fur on her shoulders began to stand on end. The quiet scuff of paw pads on stone made her head snap towards a particularly dark section of the cave. She squinted, eyes of ice and fire boring into the darkness. A soft growl rumbled from the woman, and she took a few steps forward. Movement caught her attention, the faintest twitch of someone trying to slip away in the darkness.

She barred fangs and stalked towards the shadow. “Who the fuck are you? What’s your fuckin’ business here?” A faint golden hue drew her attention the closer she came. At first, her mind returned to the cave behind the waterfall, some miles away, near the floodplains. Anger flared in her chest, burning bright hot, threatening to melt the stone of her ribs. The scent, however, wasn’t the same. The temperature turned down, and instead, her brow simply furrowed, as she moved to block the escape path of the stranger.

“Speak now, or I’ll fuckin’ rip you apart, before dragging you to Lachlan.”


“I am speaking”
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#4

Urna et pharetra pharetra massa massa ultricies mi quis hendrerit.

There's no doubt that she has been spotted, the shadows having failed spectacularly in hiding her form. Pressing further against the wall, she fights the urge to sigh as she grits her teeth. If she were to run now, the other would chase and in such limited area, she bets on herself losing. A small amount of fear swirls in her belly as she sees, out of the corner of her eye, the Underworld wolf advance. Don't come any closer, she warns in her head, readying herself like a serpent to strike.

"Who the fuck are you? What’s your fuckin’ business here?" the stranger spits, her voice tinged with ferocity and anger. She does not respond, clenching her jaw tightly as once more, the fire-streaked female edges towards her. Her teeth slowly peek out of her lips, a snarl poised, ready to bite.

They do not come near her and instead go to block her exit path. In the dark, her eyes narrow as her escape route changes. Running back is no longer an option. Stepping back, she nears the border of the shadows, stopping just before she exposes herself to the light. What should she do?

“Speak now, or I’ll fuckin’ rip you apart, before dragging you to Lachlan.” The mention of Lachlan's name has her ears perking, an idea suddenly popping into her mind. It's a stupid idea, one made from a blank, fear-addled mind but if she is convincing enough, it might just work.

A smile curls upon her face as she loosens her posture to something languid. She thinks of this woman bringing her to Lachlan as if she is truly reporting an illegal intruder, expecting him to enact punishment. What would the look on his face be if she were to be dragged in front of him, accusatory fingers pointed? It brings a giggle that is frighteningly girly to bubble in her throat. Step one.

Step two. Lascivious and sensual, she tilts her head out of the shade, blue eyes blinking innocently at the other woman. She grins, hiding away the anxious beating of her heart behind a facade of confidence. "You and then Lachlan? My..." she simpers, internally withering at her saccharine tone.

She is sure that Lachlan's scent still lingers somewhat upon her and hopes that it might just be enough for her to play her role. "I know Lachlan. I know him well." She says, eyes travelling all over the woman. Stepping forward, she pulls up into the stranger's face, stopping a breath away. Muzzles almost touching, she sniffs delicately.

"I don't know you though," she remarks softly, lashes fluttering gently. They are not packmates, after all. "I should."

Please please please please work. Be discouraged and leave me alone!
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#5

rhychdir bradshagh
wanna see my machine gun


The other’s lack of response began to push the anger up more. Rhychdir couldn’t understand – how hard was it to just fucking respond? The stranger was in danger, surely they weren’t so daft as to think that they weren’t especially when the scent of a pack wolf and the pack itself – therefore, signaling that they were trespassing upon claimed land – enveloped them better than the shadows they tried to hide in were doing. Surely, they knew that their safety was at risk?

Finally, the stranger came forward, flirting with the edge of the shadows, pelt appearing more two-toned than solid. Gold solid turned to cream and gold, blue eyes beginning to catch the light. The stranger seemed to perk at the mention of Lachlan’s name. Rhychdir found this curious, but that meant that they at least were able to recognize that they’d trespassed. Ultimately, that’s all she cared about. It was her job to keep the underworld safe. She used her body in violent ways, rather than partaking in the arts of… seduction. The mere notion of the word made the Bradshagh shudder internally.

The stranger laughed, this simple thing causing the Volcano’s child to lift her head slightly, ears flicking forward in confusion, rather than aggression. ’What the fuck?’

“You and then Lachlan? My…”

Tri-toned head tilted to the side, fire and ice clashing as rage and confusion began to swirl within them. “You…?” She started before the woman continued.

“I know Lachlan. I know him well.”

Rhychdir’s skin crawled slightly as the woman looked her over, consuming her in some strange fashion. When the stranger came close, their breath touching the tips of the other’s nose, Rhychdir found herself pulling back a little, caught off guard by the sudden change in the situation. The proximity brought the faintest hint of the Boss’ scent to her nose.

“I don’t know you though.”

In the faint light, the Bradshagh could see the other clearly. It made her heart flutter a little and gave her a sense of frustration that she found incredibly irritating. Fire and ice met with a soft type of flower; she swallowed audibly.

“I should.”

Words failed at the moment, and the Bradshagh’s mind exploded in a series incoherent sounds and colors, ranging from growls to whimpers. Confusion, irritation, and an unexplainable, enraging attraction blossomed.

“I… I…” Her words failed her, the awkwardness floating on her features. Her gaze darted to the side for a moment before her ears pinned hard against her skull. She shook her head hard.

“Next time. Fuckin… Tell him to tell me if he’s fucking a damned stranger,” she scoffed, hiding everything else she felt with a sudden intense wave of something that could be mistaken as actual hate. “And next time, girl, don’t get all flirty with me.” Her voice broke, pitching up halfway through her sentence. However, to punctuate them, her teeth barred, the motion bringing the tips of their noses together.

’Or do…? What the fuck. Fuck you, fuck him, fuck me.’ There was obvious chaos swirling in her mind. She could never quite comprehend why pretty girls seemed to get under her skin so much. She wanted to fight them. Rip them apart. But she didn’t? The Bradshagh couldn’t understand it.


“I am speaking”
table made by soar
RHYCHDIR IS RATED M FOR LANGUAGE

CONSIDER THE BRADSHAGH FAMILY
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#6

Urna et pharetra pharetra massa massa ultricies mi quis hendrerit.

Anaïs releases a breath of relief, masking it as a flirtatious puff of air when the ferocity of the Underworld wolf dies down. The edges of her lips sweep upwards even further when their mind short-circuits from her intimate display. She can hear the gears sputtering and clanking to a stop as the woman's eyes swirl with her confusion and stupor. Good. She lowers her gaze, lashes fanning across golden cheeks, satisfied in having managed to deter their suspicion.

Stepping away, she turns from the stranger, laughing lightly as they regain their gumption. The mirthful expression disappears when her face goes out of view, replaced by the nervous ease that she feels inside. She doesn't think she can hold the facade up any longer, lest her own distaste for her act show itself. Any second now, she feels like her facial features will shrivel the closer she brings herself towards the other.

Just a little longer, she supposes. Sauntering into the dark once more, hips swaying slightly, she makes the indication of heading towards her original pathway. Half-obscured by shadow, she flicks her tail at the woman before smirking over her shoulder. "Noted..."

There won't be a next time, she thinks dryly.

Her head rolls back and she speaks into the darkness, tone taking on a dramatically fatigued note. "I doubt Lachlan will listen to anything I say, but," she pauses, "if you see me again, you'll know why."

Disappearing into the tunnel, she says lightly, playfully. "Bye."

- exit Ana -

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