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» [IP] A Textbook Self-Destructive Spiral [INVITES]
PHINEAS BENNETT
 Posted: Jan 21 2017, 01:41 PM
Quote
WRAITH
Twenty-Three
Police Officer
Phineas is Offline


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Phin wasn’t sure how it came to this. How his life had become so twisted and antithetical to everything he believed in. He wasn’t a thief. He wasn’t a liar. He was a police officer and a damn good one. Unfortunately, this damn good police officer was fixing to steal another fix. He was there when the Vertigo had been confiscated, he knew where it was, how much was there, and he was almost positive he could take a few pills without anyone being any the wiser. But why? Why the fuck did he want to do this?

He was an addict, simple as that.

It’d started out beyond his control--spells of unconsciousness brought on by a needle in his neck--but Vertigo is a tough mistress. He didn’t want the punishment or the pain, the confusion and disorientation, but here he was practically begging for it. It let him dream again, but one silver lining does not a positive habit make. After the needles it was convenient packages left for him by an unknown benefactor. It was obviously a power play. Get him addicted by force, then slowly take away the reigns. Make him the driver of his own destruction bit by bit until here he was, stealing from the precinct just to get rid of the shakes.

If only seeing the play was enough to stop it, to say no.

Then he wouldn’t be in this fucking mess. He wouldn’t be smiling politely at the evidence lock-up officer, requesting entrance to “verify the seizure” after a “paperwork mix-up”. He wouldn’t be shorting out the lock-up camera with a handy power-surge...and he definitely wouldn’t be pocketing four of the dozen or so deep green pills. It was so easy. Too easy. Why wasn’t everyone doing this?

Because they aren’t dirty like you, Bennett.

Another smile and a few jokes, and he’s out of there; up the stairs instead of the elevator. It’d be smart to just leave. To take the drugs and go, but...that’d look suspicious wouldn’t it? What if he were to get caught leaving the department with the pills...somehow? Could someone like Vince smell them? Fuck. Fuck it. Why not just take them here you sleazebag, you’ve already stolen and lied and committed more than one felony. Why not?

Fuck it.” Phineas’s voice was as shaky as his hands, the pills fumbled in his cold clammy grip. He felt like shit, complete shit, and he still would after this. It was hopeless, a god damn loop of self-destruction...and to think he came back from the grave just for this shit. With a strangled laugh, the officer leaned back against the stairwell wall, shadowed from the cameras, and popped all four of the pills in his mouth two at a time to dry swallow his way to more misery.

--------------------
Because I could not stop for death,

he kindly stopped for me.

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ROSE BRADLEY
 Posted: Jan 22 2017, 09:51 PM
Quote
ELEMENTAL
TWENTY-ONE
RECEPTIONIST
ROSE is Offline


before
your eyes, i'm breaking. run fast
There were a lot of things that Rose, as an elemental, was able to sense that very few other beings would ever find themselves in the presence of, but the blonde didn't have to be anywhere near supernatural to be able to feel that something had changed in her relationship with Phin. It wasn't a change that the rest of the world was capable of seeing; things between them had shifted only a fraction of a degree in another direction and yet there were nights when Rose found herself feeling as though the shift had been the size of a continent.

When Rose had been pulled back into the land of the living, there hadn't been much of anything she had had for herself in the form of expectations; the world had left her behind and had gone and changed in so many ways in those few short years that she had been dead for. The only thing she had found herself wanting was to make a connection to someone, something, anything. She didn't want to feel dead for the rest of her life; that, she thought, was perhaps worse than actually being dead.

No unrealistic expectations came with longing for that connection; Rose had known in both lifetimes that connections could become strained, fragile, frayed... Connections could break just as easily as they could form. There were very real possibilities that things between she and the sister she never knew she had would result in the two failing to get along enough to embrace sisterhood for the lengths of their lives. There were also very real possibilities that the first romantic relationship she had committed herself to in this new lifetime wouldn't work out for the best, as so few did in this day and age.

He lived with her now as his landlord was one of the most stubborn people that Rose had ever cared to try and reason with, and that was why she was able to pick up on those little frequencies of difference; the nights that he spent working late with little detail on what he was actually working on. The days where he seemed to be more distracted than interested in anything that was going on around him; even his temperament had changed. Not enough for Rose's family or Phin's co-workers to notice, but she could feel just how off he was. Like something foreign had thrust itself into the place in her life where he belonged.

It hadn't been something that Rose had ever really brought up in much detail before. Not to her sister, not to their mutual friends and most certainly not to Phin; she hated confrontation and the last thing she wanted was to offend the man she loved by assuming he had been keeping something from her - however large or small. She had questions, of course. The nights she fell asleep while he worked late were always followed by mornings where she woke to him going about his morning routines. Questions would follow about where he had been, what he had been working on, what time he had gotten home, why he hadn't woken her to let her know he had gotten in safe... nothing ever went beyond that, though.

Work was a nice distraction; Phin seemed to be happy there. He still conversed and joked with his co-workers and things felt genuine and normal, at least more than they did during those nights when she fell asleep while he worked late.

The blonde used her hip to nudge the door to the stairwell open with her hands full of files that had been requested; Rose wasn't a big fan of small or closed-in spaces after everything she had been through. Being murdered in a cramped dorm room had definitely taken its roll on her which was why she had never so much as stepped foot in the building's elevator. It wasn't something she ever minded nor was it ever something she explained to anyone who wondered why she always took the stairs; she had no problem feeding anyone who asked a simple white lie: it was her daily cardio.

A male's quiet voice caught Rose's attention a floor or two down as she used her foot to push the door closed behind her. It wasn't too often anyone else opted for the staircase unless they were hoping to slink off to partake in a private conversation with another co-worker, but even that was fairly rare. They had more than enough interrogation rooms or offices for that.

The blonde worked her way down one floor's worth of stairs in time for Phin to come into view; his hand popping what looked to be pills into his mouth. He swallowed and his hand was popping another round into his mouth. While she wanted to chalk it down to being nothing more than Advil, Rose had absolutely no idea if Advil even affected wraiths - like Phin - the way it would a human. Both the desperation and the satisfaction she could feel radiating from him negated that attempt to explain the situation.

It was the same sense of desperation and satisfaction any addict gave off; an inexplicable need followed by a hunger being fed, if only for a short time. She had picked up on those feelings before - she had felt that something had been off - but this was the first time that Rose could name the feelings that she had been sensing, bringing every loose end to the bigger picture together.

Time was no longer something she paid much mind to; she had no idea how long she stood there in silence, struggling between wanting to turn around and walk away like she hadn't just walked in on this, and wanting to confront him. She was hurt, how could she not be? It was impossible to not feel as though this had been a direct betrayal even though addictions ran deeper than that. It was impossible not to feel angry that she had been right and hadn't pursued those feelings until she made him tell her what the hell had been going on; she was angry that he hadn't told her to begin with.

She was angry that she felt - in that moment - as though she didn't know a single thing about the person she had given herself to. She had a lot of walls up - that much had never been a secret - and in that moment, she felt justified in building them right back up.

"What did you take." There was no hint of a question in her voice; it was more a demand to finally be told the truth than anything else. There was too much anger in her voice for her to bother beating around the bush and acting as if he weren't risking his entire career by slinking away to down whatever it was he had been keeping in his system behind her back.

Her hands dropped the files she had been holding (rather intentionally) at his feet; the files colliding with the cold floor echoing up and down the otherwise deserted staircase. Perhaps angry was too loose a term for what she was feeling. Irate, perhaps. Livid, even... Emotions no elemental ever felt comfortable possessing in fear their learned coping mechanisms would fail; too much negative energy could become dangerous just as easily as a loaded weapon.

Her hands made quick work of thrusting themselves into any pocket of his that she could find. His jeans - both his side pockets and back pockets - and the pockets of his jacket. The blonde's hands even withdrawing his wallet to flip through it was quickly as she could; blue eyes scanning for any pills he might still have on his body before his wallet, too, was on the floor at her feet as if she lost every care she could have for any of his personal belongings; the safety and preservation of his wallet was the last damn thing on her mind.

--------------------
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PHINEAS BENNETT
 Posted: Jan 30 2017, 08:36 PM
Quote
WRAITH
Twenty-Three
Police Officer
Phineas is Offline


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There was very little about Vertigo that actually felt good. Most drugs had their perks. Energy, confidence, drive, euphoria, the list went on and on. It was, generally speaking, what got people to buy or try that initial hit. Vertigo, though, Vertigo was a veritable shit-show no matter which way you spun it. It hurt. It made you feel sick and confused. It could fucking kill you at a drop of a hat. The only gain was a bit of motivation...but when mixed with everything else the drug brought down on you, it really, really wasn’t worth it.

Really.

And Phin had just popped twice the “regular dose” which really could be a quadruple hit if these capsules were particularly strong. He was in for a world of hurt, no doubt about it, even if it did take awhile longer to reach its peak than a shot to the bloodstream. How would he even get through the rest of the work day? It’d be immediately obvious that he was fucked up once the drugs really hit; he should leave. He should leave right now before he became obviously impaired. It was the only way to not get caught and risk losing literally everything he had worked for since he was in high school. As he pushed away from the wall to do just very that, Rose practically thundered down the stairs. She radiated rage and fear and sadness like it was going out of style.

Shit.

Rose! I...uh.” The officer winced, his eyes snapping down to the ground to avoid her gaze. Idle hands rubbed clammy sweat from his palms as his brain tried and most likely failed to get its shit together fast enough to get him out of this mess. “Caffeine pills would be a stupid answer wouldn’t it?” Of course it would. You don’t sleep, genius. “This really isn’t what it looks like, Rose.” Phin swallowed thickly, the world was already started to spin and twist like the universe absolute worst carnival ride.

As her folders dropped, he started to drop to grab them, only to be stopped by her hands searching for something she’d never find. All the evidence was on the way to his stomach as they spoke, already starting to break down and make its way into his bloodstream. She was livid but even livid didn’t seem to be a strong enough word. He could feel the fury pouring off of her, and under any other circumstance—if it were directed at anyone or anything else—he could have reveled in it. Fed off it. As it was, any energy he could pull from Rose’s rage was more than likely doomed to exacerbate Vertigo’s effects. What better way to enjoy disorientation than to do so why hyped up on ill gotten energy?

He watched his wallet get thrown to the ground as if through a tunnel. His eyes were surely glazing over by this point with as clouded as his thoughts were becoming. It was hard to even...to even something. To what? He needed to do something. “Rose...I...why are you mad?” The wraiths shaking fingers brushed what he thought was her shoulder, “What’s going on?” He should figure out what was wrong with her because something was clearly wrong right? And something was wrong with him. There had to be something wrong with him. He felt sick; he didn’t always feel like this did he? So dead inside. He was dead inside and outside and how was he still standing?

Phineas’s legs crumpled and he dropped like a lead weight.

So much for getting out before it was too late.

--------------------
Because I could not stop for death,

he kindly stopped for me.

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ROSE BRADLEY
 Posted: Jan 30 2017, 10:41 PM
Quote
ELEMENTAL
TWENTY-ONE
RECEPTIONIST
ROSE is Offline


before
your eyes, i'm breaking. run fast
It was hard to hide emotions from someone - like Phin - who was able to feel any emotion that passed through Rose. Sometimes it was beneficial to their relationship; he could feel her excitement, her happiness, her pleasure... Granted, Rose could get quite bashful when she knew he was picking up on more personal things like the lust she felt over the little things: the way he half-smiled sometimes in the middle of a conversation, for example... Those little turn-ons that were so easy to keep hidden were always written in neon for him.

It was bittersweet that he could also pick up when she was upset, though that was an extremely rare occurrence as Rose prided herself on being level headed and never taking offence to things that weren't meant to be taken seriously. In truth, this was the second time that he had ever felt this much anger radiating off her; the first being when he had needed a boost after he had collapsed in an alley. This was the first time it had ever been directed at him, however.

She wasn't certain if his little comment about caffeine pills was an attempt at a joke or if he was truly scrambling to come up with a believable excuse, but Rose wasn't amused by it either way. She knew all too well that wraith's like Phin didn't typically need sleep, so staying awake wasn't something they ever really found themselves struggling with. Maybe if he had thought of something - anything - else, she would have found herself believing him just like she always seemed to.

The next words out of his mouth, that the situation wasn't what it looked like, had her wincing. Not from physical pain, but rather from the cliche that that very phrase centered around. The phrase significant others offered when they were caught in compromising positions; a stall that might allow them to think up an excuse that even the most naive would likely fall for.

Her hands shook. She clenched them into small fists for half a second in an attempt to stop them. To stop the anger that was rushing through her veins before it consumed her and she ended up blowing every light out of the damn building. Already she could feel the vibrations of the hums of electricity rushing through each bulb; that usually meany she was somewhere close to a surge and something like that in public was frowned upon. Mainly by Marcel Gerard.

It was hard to focus on something that wasn't making her angry, but Phin's next words - his questioning why she was mad - followed by his shaking fingers brushing her shoulder had her feeling something else. Something that numbed the anger just enough for another emotion to beat its way to the surface. One that stopped the slight ringing in her ears; one that didn't have her skin tingling with electricity that her body was craving to drain from every available source.

She felt hurt.

"Because I trusted you." And he had betrayed her. "Because you're a liar." The few stray tears that fell didn't roll slowly down her cheek. They dropped just as quickly as the files in her hands had when she had first seen her boyfriend downing whatever it was he had been concealing from her for God only knew how long. Had this been something he had been keeping from her from the start and she had just been too stupid and too naive to notice?

The blonde shook her head gently as she stepped back and away from his touch. Her fingers brushing those few stray tears away until there was no longer so much as a trace they had existed. Her eyes still watered, but Rose let out a soft exhale that proved she was trying to keep herself as composed as she could manage.

It was obvious he was confused; whatever he had taken was starting to kick in and was taking as much rationality from him as it could. She wanted to call Sera down here, but she hesitated. Sera had been the one Rose had called when the motel owner had thrown punches at Phin when he had first rescued her from that living arrangement. Sera had been the one she had called when she had found Phin collapsed in an alleyway - she wondered if that day had been as drug-filled as this one was turning out to be... If it had been? If he had been using? Sera had already been exposed to something that could hurt her and her own career in the long-run. Rose wouldn't risk her sister like that again now that she knew what she did.

As his legs gave out, Rose found herself glancing up the staircase, hoping no one could hear the commotion happening in the stairwell. She had no idea what the usual effects of the drugs were that he seemed to be taking; truth be told, she didn't want to know and yet here she was, having to deal with this head-on. She could walk away and leave him to deal with this all on his own, that's what any rational person would have done, but Rose knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she became that person. The person who shut off her emotions so she didn't have to care.

Kneeling down slowly next to the man she had been sharing her home with for the last few months, Rose placed a hand on his forehead, testing the temperature of his skin. He was usually cold - colder than her own skin was - so at least she had something to go on.

"I need to know what you took. Before someone else comes down here and sees you like this; you'll lose your job. Your promotion. Everything."

--------------------
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PHINEAS BENNETT
 Posted: Jan 31 2017, 08:52 AM
Quote
WRAITH
Twenty-Three
Police Officer
Phineas is Offline


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From his place on the ground, Bennett could see that Rose was crying, could feel her sadness and betrayal. He knew it was his fault...even if it was getting increasingly hard to understand why. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, thundering in his ears even as she knelt down beside him. Was it always like this? He honestly couldn’t remember. He never remembered, not really. God...how could he have let this happen.

Any of this.

Phineas was slumped against the wall now, his skin pallid and his temperature fluctuating wildly as he tried to focus. It was important to focus...on...on Rose! On Rose. Rose was important. So important. But fuck did his head hurt. It felt like someone was driving an ice-pick into his skull. Not that he knew what that felt like, not really, noooooo. He’d never died that way. Not yet. Maybe someday. What was he supposed to be thinking about.



Rose! Rose was talking to him

You’re so pretty.” The officer slurred, his eyes wide and unfocused, “Why’re you so upset? Pretty face like that shouldn’t have to be.” Bennett let out a shaky breath, one of his hands fumbling for his girlfriend again as the world spun. His head hurt...his chest, his chest hurt. He might have mumbled as much or it might have been in his head. It was getting harder and harder to tell what he was actually doing and what he was just thinking about doing.

He just wanted to sleep. Could he sleep?

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for awhile...

The whispering was back in his head; the voices he couldn't place. The darkness that seemed to be trying to pull him under, to hold him down. A feeling of suffocation wrapped in blistering cold. It was like being submerged in viscous goo and trying to swim to a surface that you could never breach. He'd felt like this before. He knew he had, but what did it mean?

Was he dying? ...again?

This didn't hurt as much as the first time. The first time was worse—literal suffocation and waves of pain—this though, this was blankness. The absence of everything. Like limbo. A dark, cloying limbo. Maybe this was hell...maybe he was already dead. Could someone like him even go to heaven? Assuming heaven existed that is; he'd been raised religious like any good Southern boy, but it was hard to believe in anything when you didn't even understand what you were.

What happened when a Wraith died?

--------------------
Because I could not stop for death,

he kindly stopped for me.

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ROSE BRADLEY
 Posted: Jan 31 2017, 08:12 PM
Quote
ELEMENTAL
TWENTY-ONE
RECEPTIONIST
ROSE is Offline


before
your eyes, i'm breaking. run fast
It was easy enough for Rose to see (and feel) for herself that Phin wasn't in the best of states, but without knowing what he had taken and how much of it he had consumed, she had little way of knowing the best way to help him.

The logical step would be to call 911 regardless; without knowing what substance he had taken and whether or not he was in danger of overdosing or enduring harsh side effects from the drug, she had no way of knowing if he would be able to ride this high - this intoxication - out safely and soundly. Still, the logical side of Rose disagreed with what anyone else would have done, but only because this wasn't some stranger that she had found in the stairwell popping pills. This was Phin...

He could lose his job if they became aware of the fact that he had been using at work and using while working cases. His work would come into question; any cases he helped resolved would likely end up being reopened which could very easily put dangerous people back out on the streets. Rose didn't want to see that happen about as much as she didn't want to see Phin suffer emotionally and mentally from the loss of the career he had turned into a passion he was proud of.

Yet, if she sat on this and someone questioned him later on in regards to suspicions of a potential drug use, her job would just as easily be on the line just as equally as her reputation would be. She was trying so damn hard to make the best at this second shot at live that she had been given... the last thing that she wanted to do was let her grip on it weaken too much...

But what would her life be without Phin in it? She could find another job in another State, hell, even in another country if that was what it came down to... but she couldn't replace Phin. She didn't want to replace Phin...

It was evident to the blonde that her boyfriend was no longer in a solid state of mind; his words were seeming to be all over the place by that point. He didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation - something that was already very out of character for him - and he was growing more and more distracted as the seconds ticked by. So much so, he couldn't so much as focus on the question she was asking, more than one, at that. Instead, his mind seemed to focus on the beauty he felt she possessed, but even those words were growing more and more slurred.

His hand was searching her out and, for a moment, she let him try - and fail - to make contact. It was residual anger that had her believing it would be better to avoid any intimate contact in fear she'd send the wrong message - perhaps one of support instead of one of disapproval - but her heart stood victorious over her mind and her hand was reaching for his. Her fingers lacing with his own if only to let him know that she was there through whatever it was that his mind was going through.

"Listen..." Rose tried to keep the anger and betrayal out of her voice as much as she could; her free hand stroking his forehead gently as she tried to keep up with his fluctuating temperature. Something that, too, was uncharacteristic for him. "I need you to tell me what you took so I can get you out of here before someone..." She didn't want to finish that thought simply because she didn't want to put him in an unpredictable panic. "Tell me what you took so we can go home..."

A white lie, but she doubted it'd be one he remembered. Even if he did, it'd hardly amount to the lies he had been passing off as excuses for the last while. He needed help one way or another. He needed these drugs safely out of his system and, if this had been going on for as long as Rose suspected, he'd need to at least try a program to help him stay away from all of this crap...

Well, that was, if he was even wanting to...

--------------------
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VINCENT ALBRIGHT
 Posted: Feb 6 2017, 01:56 PM
Quote
WEREWOLF (COTM)
thirty-three
SWAT
Vince is Offline


WHEN IT'S ALL SAID AND DONE

AND A LITTLE WORSE FOR WEAR
1637 words.
tag: rose, phin.
song: brother - x ambassadors
A year. A year without major issue, without finding anyone dead, without kidnappings or torture or any of the awful things Vincent Albright had thus far endured in his relatively short life (at least comparatively to friends and family—many of them had literal centuries on him). To say Vince was pleased with the outcome was a bit of an understatement. For the first time since that fateful New Years wherein he and his best friend woke up, amnesiac and profoundly changed, he had seen months fly by where his biggest focus was literally work, friends, and family. That’s it. He did his job, and he did it well, and when he was finished? He went home to his favorite person in the world: his little girl.

Sure, there were pockets of guilt here and there. Mackenzie should have graduated from college by now, but for all intents and purposes, that existence had been completely erased. Nearly six now, the little girl, his little girl, had gotten a chance to start over. Had she chosen this? No. But, well… it was a better option than dead. She could live her life trauma-free this time. Could be a kid. And maybe it was selfish of him, and of Norah, to decide they should get a second chance at raising their girl, but… doesn't every parent want to be able to strip the pain out of their children's lives? Doesn't every parent want to protect them to a fault? Maybe not every parent, but every parent that looks down at the sleeping faces of their boys and girls and begs the world to be kind to them. That regrets the hurt, even when they themselves did not cause it. All Vince ever wanted for Kenzie was a happy life. And for the first time, he felt like he might be achieving it, shortcuts be damned.

Work was good, too. Though he still occasionally participated in maneuvers with the SWAT team, he and his K9 were pretty exclusively working with the task force he and Sera Vesta co-lead. They had done good things this year. Sure, not newsworthy, but hell, that's not why they were in it—and Vince was pretty sure it would be newsworthy if there weren't red streaks, vigilantes, and "superheroes" running around making a spectacle of things. He didn't necessarily begrudge these anomalies, because they could be helpful, but a lot of them functioned outside the law, and that made him nervous. He didn't want to lead the task force up against them someday any more than he thought Sera would—because just because he had kept a low profile didn't mean he wasn't aware of the fact his partner-in-law (as opposed to "in-crime,"… oh, you get it) called some of them friends. Hell, he had been there after the clean-up with the "gas explosion", and being preternatural as he was himself, he wasn't oblivious to the fact the world was starting to move in peculiar ways. There was always an explanation… but the alibis were getting thin, and the world was getting weird.

What did Marcel think of it? Not that he cared.

If you asked the man, Vince wouldn't say he had favorites on the team, but there were people he was more reliant on and attentive to than the others. Sera, of course—they had saved each others' asses many times, and would probably do so many times more—and Claire, naturally. Then there was Phineas. Vincent and Phineas didn't exactly have much of a history, at least not by the books. But Vince had helped Phin unravel the knot of who and what he was somewhat, and after saving the man's life one late night in the pen, the werewolf had a tendency to keep an eye on the guy a little more often than the others. Their relationship was cordial, friendly—occasionally brotherly. You can't work on a team like the Five-0 task force and not develop trust for each other, especially when everyone's doing their job well, but Vincent also knew it was a little harder for Phin to get by, day to day. He didn't tick like everyone else.

So when Phin started acting a little different, Vince did notice... but he chalked it up to stress. Some of their missions required days at a time of focus, and sometimes they got shot at, or driven at, or swung at, or…

Again. You get it.

People react to stress in different ways. Some people withdraw. Some people lash out. Vince got terse, but it was a cool sort of terse; he made it his mission not to lash out these days. Set a good example, for others, for his team, for his daughter. Phin was never out-and-out mean, but there were jitters and snapped words, and surges of determination that didn't jive with the moment... you'd think a former addict could sniff out another addict with signs like that. But Vince's poison of choice had been alcohol, not any of these newfangled drugs hitting the streets, so maybe that's why.

Vertigo was a big one, and a nasty one at that. There wasn't a whole lot good about the drug, but it must rewire the brain or something, because despite being a generally unpleasant experience for the ones that survived it, it was addictive as hell. And for every cache they got their hands on, two more seemed to pop up. It wasn't a dance Vince was keening on learning the steps for—he had always stayed far away from narcotics because it was also one of the most thankless jobs on the force. Half the time, the people you help didn't want it, and the other half? Well, they were usually dead.

But with Five-0's unique role in the department, of course they were beginning to really get involved. There was clearly a network dispersing this stuff, and the production quality was the high-grade type of destruction. Vertigo was as much for the rich and famous as it was for the down and out. And everything in between, apparently.

It's not that Vince could smell the Vertigo in Phin's system when he turned the corner, but he could smell the pheromones and off body chemistry of an altered man. It wasn't a bad smell, per se—just wrong. And as blue eyes flicked from Phin's sweaty face to Rose's panicked one, he knew the scene he was stumbling on was the kind of scene he better walk back out on… because getting involved would jeopardize his own role as much as it was jeopardizing Phin's, or Rose's.

But he couldn't do that.

Rose had some history, Vince knew that, so he cleared his throat and stepped into her peripheral view rather than surprise the shit out of her by coming up from behind. Battered knees popped a little when he squatted next to Phin, but he didn't say anything; just grabbed Phin's wrist and inhaled deeply near the biggest vein. The whole scene would have been rather comical if it weren't for how desperate it was. Vince was no empath, but even he could feel the anger, fear, and sadness rolling off of Rose in waves.

The werewolf didn't even have to think hard on what exactly it washe was smelling as he let go of Phin's wrist. The chemical, almost acidic smell exuding from the younger cop's pores was all too familiar. How many bodies had they stumbled on that had reeked just like this? How many junkies had Vince been forced to interrogate, all the while developing a headache from the sheer scent of unnatural death hanging around them like a mist?

"Jesus, fuck, man, why the fuck did it have to be Vertigo..." Half-muttered were these words, sure, but Rose undoubtedly heard. His glance her way was uneasy. This was about to be a really long fucking road ahead for the two, and Vince seriously felt for Sera's sister. He really did. He had given up on his own brother on account of drugs, but it's different when it's your spouse—not that turning your back on your siblings is easy.. Norah had endured a hellish drunkard with selfish tendencies—that being him—but liquor only called when Vince was in the presence of a bottle. Drugs were harpies. They screamed all the time. They cut up your brain and rearranged it, until you didn't know how to live without them, didn’t know how to walk the pathways of your mind with them guiding you. Even if you got rid of them, the brain has to take time rewire itself. And you can never get the bridges back that you burned just to live, just to get to your next high.

"Rose," This time, Vince gently touched the young woman's shoulder, just a light hand, mostly to draw her attention away from Phin. There was a hardness in the set of Vince's jaw that spoke of his struggle to remain objective... and to not see Bradley in the other man slumped against the wall before them. "We can take him to Trinity. I think she'll be able to help… maybe without the wrong kind of questions getting asked." A look, both ways, down the otherwise deserted hallway, before he continued. "Do you want my help? Because we take care of our own, but he's forfeited his chance to decide whether he needs to face all the consequences of what he's done. I leave that up to you."

Was it cruel? Yes. But Rose knew Phin far better than he, or anyone else did. She deserved the chance to make that choice.
And it hurts having someone take care of you

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no matter how many breaths that you took, you still couldn't breathe
would you kill to save a life?
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PHINEAS BENNETT
 Posted: Feb 6 2017, 09:26 PM
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WRAITH
Twenty-Three
Police Officer
Phineas is Offline


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Rose was still talking to him, but it was as if she was at the end of a long tunnel. It was hard to make out her words and even harder to make sense of them. Maybe if he could open his eyes, even just a crack, he could read her lips and piece it all together, but his eyelids felt like rusted metal shutters. Unmoving, and sure to creak and crack and break apart if he tried to force it. This wasn’t normal. This really wasn’t normal was it? Surely Vertigo didn’t always feel like this...maybe it did, he never remembered it. Would he remember something like this?

Soon another voice joined in, fingers against his wrist. He could hardly feel it, his sensations were already dulled--had been since he had woken up in the car wreck that had made him what he was today--but this...this was like trying to feel a needle in a haystack. It was maddening. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch, just the barest hint of touch breaking through the fog in his head. Were you supposed to know your thoughts were foggy? Feel it like a thick soup ready to leak out of your ears.

The voices were getting louder, one stronger than the rest. Telling him to just rest, to give in, to drift. It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? To just let go. To forget about the pain and confusion and the need. It’d be nice. Easy...but life wasn’t supposed to be easy. When life was easy you were just skating by. To live, really live, you had to dig deeper, try harder, push further. Living wasn’t sailing on steady waters, it was choppy and tough, but oh so satisfying. Or at least...that’s what he wanted to think. That’s what he wanted to yell, scream, mime out in the form of interpretive dance if he had to, but instead, Phin might as well have been silent.

The voice was louder than he was, stronger, pushing him down further and further into the dark.

Above the trio in the stairwell, a light flickered and then burst, raining glass down onto the concrete as the air suddenly lost all of its heat. Phin gasped, or that is to say his body did, jolting upright stiff as a board where he sat. The eyes the opened were clear, if distant, perhaps a shade paler than usual...but that could be said for all of him. His breath was too cold to make the air mist as it streamed out his nose and mouth, gasps turning into a more normal rhythm after only a few uneven inhales. Meeting the stares of the pair leaning over him, his voice was rough when he spoke, “I’m fine, thank you.

Without an ounce of unsteadiness, the wraith stood, his face just a little too blank to be normal.

--------------------
Because I could not stop for death,

he kindly stopped for me.

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ROSE BRADLEY
 Posted: Mar 5 2017, 09:43 PM
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ELEMENTAL
TWENTY-ONE
RECEPTIONIST
ROSE is Offline


before
your eyes, i'm breaking. run fast
There weren't many people that Rose trusted as far as her history was concerned; when she had been found by Sera after having been brought back to the world of the living (by who and why, she still had no idea), she had been nothing short of a wreck. Even now, almost two years back among the living, Rose found herself unable to trust as easily as she had before she had been murdered by a familiar face.

There were things that triggered her, of course. Metal knives weren't allowed in either hers nor Sera's home unless they wanted to talk the blonde elemental through waves of hyperventilation. If someone were to sneak up on her or rest a hand on her without making her aware of their presence, more often than not, Rose was more vocal about the invasion of her personal space than she ever meant to be.

Rose had always been open and honest with Phin; in the beginning she had been a bit jumpy when his hand would find hers or when she awoke in the morning, forgetting he had stayed over but those moments of surprise had faded, at least with him. Aside from Sera, he had been the only one that she had found herself able to trust in those two years.

Of course, there were people that had needed to know about Rose's condition. Beings like Vince, though even Rose could admit she wasn't certain how much Sera had told him. Likely enough to explain the light pink scars that polluted her body, the only physical reminders of the seventy-two stab wounds she had received while pinned to her dorm room bed, half while she was still fighting for her life and the other half after she had taken her last breath.

He knew enough to make his presence known, even by making sure to approach her from the side rather than from behind where she'd have little way of knowing of his presence slowly approaching.

While it was a relief that someone who likely had a bit more experience with situations like these was now at hers and Phin's side, Rose couldn't deny the small sense of panic that washed over her. Vince had no reason to keep this in the dark where it belonged; he had no reason to protect Phin the way that Rose was willing to protect him. He could easily bring this incident to his and Phin's superiors and effectively end Phin's career with the blink of an eye.

The blonde elemental didn't know very much about the drugs that were frequently peddled out in the streets but she did know enough (mostly from listening to the news in the background at home) about Vertigo to know that it wasn't something she'd want any of her loved ones messing around with.

It broke her heart to know that Phin of all people had been not only using such a questionable substance, but that he had effectively kept it from her; she still had no idea for just how long, at that.

Vince's voice speaking her name pulled her gaze towards the werewolf; her eyes lingering for a small moment on his hand that touched her shoulder. It wasn't an uncomfortable touch simply since his voice had given warning to interaction; he respected her past more than most people cared to which was more than Rose could ever ask for.

He was right in saying that Trinity would likely be able to help with the situation; she was a skilled doctor that specialized in the supernatural which was a massive benefit, especially now of all times. Phin was always so worried of being hospitalized in fear of causing power surges and inconveniencing those that were treating him. That was precisely why Rose typically opted to take him to Sera who often helped them in sticky situations, but she wasn't willing to be thrust into the middle, choosing whose career to shatter: Phin's or her sister's.

Trinity was the best bet; it would keep Sera a safe distance from all of this and Vince... well, he would be at risk if anyone learned of what he was helping Rose accomplish, but he seemed as though he knew how to keep his hands clean, even when getting them somewhat dirty...

A light flickered overhead and, for a moment, Rose had an apologetic look on her face as she readied herself to take the blame for any disturbances around them. She was, after all, running high on emotions right now, but she also knew when she was feeling a bit too much; if a light was going to flicker and burst, it would have been when she had first found her boyfriend, not now that the situation was being dealt with rather swiftly and quietly...

As Phin gasped in a breath of air and sat up quicker than Rose would have thought him capable of and was on his feet even quicker. His face blank and his eyes... different. Rose's hand grasped the male's chin as she turned his face to her, refusing to accept him stating that he was fine; blue eyes examining him.

"Lets get him to the hospital; I don't want him heading back in... It'd be too risky; someone could notice something's off and ask him for a drug test..." Which would obviously fuck his entire life up should that result in him losing his job... his career...

"I'll handle the consequences; thank you." Her eyes were moving back to Vince with a bit of a grateful smile. She wouldn't sweep this under the rug, especially giving the deceit and betrayal it had brought about, but she also wasn't going to let this ruin his entire world, at least not so long as she could help it.

--------------------
will we ever learn; we've been here before
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VINCENT ALBRIGHT
 Posted: Mar 7 2017, 12:43 AM
Quote
WEREWOLF (COTM)
thirty-three
SWAT
Vince is Offline


WHEN IT'S ALL SAID AND DONE

AND A LITTLE WORSE FOR WEAR
650 words.
tag: rose, phin.
song: brother - x ambassadors
Vincent had fought his own battles with addiction, once upon a time. It was easy to get suckered in, especially when your life was less than shiny-golden, and finding respite seemed damn near impossible. Stress, numerous failures (professional and personal), and the simple matter of the fact that being different wasn't easy had ultimately contributed to a crash landing that dragged most of his friends and family down with him. He was a few years sober now, even with a minor slip-up under his belt, but he still considered himself a recovering alcoholic, and always would.. Addiction's a war you fight every day, whether you like it or not; he'd never not be the wolf that turned to the bottle, no matter how far away he got from his last drink.

It's no wonder, too, that cops in particular might be more susceptible to the callings of pills or booze than your average Joe. Cold cases weighed heavy on detectives, and beat cops lived lives of relative boredom punctuated by the occasional moments of sheer terror or rage. Sometimes it was easier to smooth out the wrinkles with something... else... than properly deal with it. There was a stigma tied to asking for help in general—this was much, much worse in the force.

Still, there was a tinge of anger deep in the pit of Vincent's stomach, a tinge that was trying not to assume he understood why Phin had decided to start popping. But when you save a man's life, whether you like it or not, you start to really care about that man, and wonder what kind of person they'll go onto bed. Vince saw Phineas pretty much every day, so he knew better than most, or so he had thought. Clearly the young man had more secrets than his boss or his girlfriend had ever even guessed. Sucks, to find out like this.

Rose's decision was met with a nod. It was no secret Vince and Rose's sister, Sera, got on like a house on fire: that is, if the fire-engulfed house in question had a tendency to bicker and banter even during the worst of moments. What mattered was the loyalty they had for each other; that's why they were partners. This meant that Rose had Vincent's loyalty, by proxy, and since he had slipped under the radar of his superiors during his own intoxication-fueled rage, he was ready to help Phin do the same. Rose didn't deserve to have her life fucked up by this; Phin might, maybe, but really... addiction was an illness (and Vertigo highly addicting). Phin deserved a second chance, first, a chance to make this right, no matter how fucked up he had made it during his first go.

Vincent flinched when the light exploded, one hand already beginning to lift to shield Rose and Phineas both. His hand dropped as soon as he realized it wasn't a threat, but the significance wasn't exactly lost on the werewolf, either. When Vincent had first encountered the other man, it resulted in him performing CPR on a silent chest; when Phineas had come to, he had taken several computers and lights in the immediate vicinity with him in addition to all his original electrical victims. Something had changed—but what?

Rocking back on his heels, Vincent rose to his feet with a faint groan as Phin did, offering a hand up to Rose as well, if she felt so-inclined. Blue eyes narrowed, and nostrils flared, but Vince wasn't angry… just really, really confused. And a little suspicious. And, okay, maybe a little mad. "Sorry, dude, but you've earned yourself a doctor's visit whether you like it or not. I'll sign off on your absence. But you need to go." He glanced at Rose. "And neither of us are taking no for an answer."
And it hurts having someone take care of you

--------------------
no matter how many breaths that you took, you still couldn't breathe
would you kill to save a life?
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