Thread: untitled (dream/jinx)

Despite the proper, proud facade Deacon put on for the world, he was just like any other lycan - feral, bestial and with little to no regard for human law. While he did not regard himself as anyone with authority, other lycans did. It was his mass that appointed him a true physical menace. His strong, unwavering body was often described to be modeled after a powerful grizzly bear. The tight muscle woven intricately that formed his broad, dense chest, and the detailed scars that traveled up his forearms and abdomen that told stories of past battles, some won, some lost. Unlike his sister - a feeble human being - he was a lycan, a child bore from the blood of the moon. Needless to say this didn't mean that he didn't care dearly for his younger sibling, he just needed to be wary around her. Deacon had never told his sister of his new racial status. In fact, the subject of lycans, vampires and all of those other fascinating fantasy elements were labeled as taboo in this particular town. If one were utter the cadence werewolf they would be socially shunned. Someway, somehow, Deacon wanted to share his secret with his sister. Just how to go about it was the tricky part. How would she react? Frightened? Accepting? It was against lycan law to reveal themselves to a human-being but Deacon felt this situation was entirely different. He thought he would hint at it gradually butter her up and cajole her into his world then ever so prudently share his life long deep, dark secret. While his sister was one of the subject weighing heavy on his mind, another was sex. Sex, sex, sex . It was a taboo subject for him, specifically because he was homosexual. Such a grand, majestic man batting for the other team. Often his packmates would chide and taunt him for his sexual orientation but Deacon learned to bite the bullet. He'd grin, bare it, and sit through the night knocking back a few beers and over-cooked hot wings. But it was this particular night he laid aside his sexual frustrations and invited over his sister, Estelle, for the evening. The entire house was filled to the brim with intoxicated, horny lycans an elite handful were perfectly sober and not-so-randy just begging for a good fuck, but with Deacon's sister's presence in their household they knew just how to keep their throbbing cocks in their pants and act as gentlemen. They'd seen her before ... a stunning specimen, tall and curvaceous, a healthy woman. Her eyes reminded them of dull yet translucent jade emeralds and she had a mane like a lion's - thick, long, illustrious. She was foreign, South American like her brother and a top of the need-to-be-fucked list in the pack household. This was the precise reason Deacon didn't spend much time in the hovel. If these silly little 'lists' existed then there was no doubt immature discrepancies within the villa. The house itself was neat and tidy, prepared for a guest visit, but this didn't stop some of the boys from having their 'fun'. A throng of young lycans - no older then nineteen - were all huddled in the basement taking unhealthy puffs from a blunt they stole from Deacon who claimed to have a stash purely for 'medicinal purposes'. Lycans, over the years, had adapted to modern human culture and began following the same trends they did. Drugs, the video game phenomenon and even clothing, though more traditional lycans such as Deacon preferred the loose fitting tunic and sweatpants. The tan-skinned monster paced around the corridor on the lower portion of the house, anxiously scrubbing the scruff of his skin, tickling sensitive nerve endings in his fingertips with his sandpapery jawline. There was one particularl lycan - someone relatively new and unfailingly civilized - he felt he could count on to help him keep things in order, lest Estelle be subjected to the grimy dimension that was a lycans' den.listulistulistu