Post by sinclair westley savage on Aug 31, 2011 19:18:42 GMT -5
it's getting harder to believe in anything, than just to get lost
Westley sighed quietly, leaning over the bar at the hunter’s moon. If you looked back a few months, you’d never imagine that this would be the place to find him, of course, back then he was Sinclair Savage, the only son of hollywood’s perfect couple, and he would be judged drastically for the slightest things, at the very least his choice of bar. All of that was gone though, his parents and his friends, the attention from the media. Of course…those things tend to happen when one’s parents fake their own death. West assumed he was just lucky that he hadn’t been left alone forever. He could have been trapped there, in the only place left to his name. It wasn’t exactly tragic of course, to be living in a spacey basement penthouse, but when he didn’t have a life to actually live out of it, he couldn’t see the silver lining most of the time.
He had two things that he could consider salvation, Warlocks and Faelan. They weren’t the same type of salvation, of course, but they were definitely the two things that were keeping him anywhere close to sane right about now. Faelan, of course, was his actual salvation, the one that kept him from trying to kill himself several months ago. She’d arrived just in time really, having heard about his “dog attack” that, according to the media, resulted in an infection followed by his death, and had recognized it as a sign of a newly turned werewolf. She’d been the one to track him down and clue him into the fact that he wasn’t the only one out there like him, and he didn’t have to be alone just because he’d been given solitary.
His other salvation came second. As incredible as it was to be part of a pack, to feel like part of a family and the whole “I’d totally die for you if I needed to” thing….it wasn’t entirely his cup of tea. Sure, he felt like he owed the world to the pack, since they’d brought him from entirely obscure to slightly less obscure, but his real delight with the downworld was the parties. It was essentially the most epic party scene he’d ever been able to experience and he couldn’t help but be enamored by the warlocks….especially a certain blonde one that he’d just had a run in with earlier this week.
He had two things that he could consider salvation, Warlocks and Faelan. They weren’t the same type of salvation, of course, but they were definitely the two things that were keeping him anywhere close to sane right about now. Faelan, of course, was his actual salvation, the one that kept him from trying to kill himself several months ago. She’d arrived just in time really, having heard about his “dog attack” that, according to the media, resulted in an infection followed by his death, and had recognized it as a sign of a newly turned werewolf. She’d been the one to track him down and clue him into the fact that he wasn’t the only one out there like him, and he didn’t have to be alone just because he’d been given solitary.
His other salvation came second. As incredible as it was to be part of a pack, to feel like part of a family and the whole “I’d totally die for you if I needed to” thing….it wasn’t entirely his cup of tea. Sure, he felt like he owed the world to the pack, since they’d brought him from entirely obscure to slightly less obscure, but his real delight with the downworld was the parties. It was essentially the most epic party scene he’d ever been able to experience and he couldn’t help but be enamored by the warlocks….especially a certain blonde one that he’d just had a run in with earlier this week.
Tagged: Fae; Words: 402; Notes: sorry this sucks....
