You're brought into Toronto, Canada, either ordered by the Council to join the Pack or Clan that resides there for the impending war, to strengthen their numbers, and provide a hand within the war, or you've moved here simply to find a fresher start to life. Will you stand on the sidelines in the Neutral Territories? Or will you decide to take part and choose a side? Your destiny awaits you, make sure to head over to our homesite (link found in the Navigation Section) to begin your journey!
The pictured room above is a room Genevieve would have loved before the events that transformed her life. However, now the room is a grim reminder of what was. This room has a lot of parallels between the room she once shared with her fiance, now it is only for one individual. Perhaps in the future that might change but at this moment, this room is something that Gen would rather not be reminded of.
The bedroom has four walls, forming a square. This room is of decent size, enough to fit a queen bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a bookshelf, and a small chair. There are two doors, right next to each other on the left wall. The first door leads to a bathroom that is small but fits a standing shower, toilet, and her own vanity with a mirror. The second door leads to the end of the hallway on the second floor. The walls within her room are an off white color except for the wall where the bed rests. This wall was a dark, grey-blue color that helps contrast the light and dark themes. The neutral color scheme also allows for the color upon her furniture. Her floor is of dark wood, probably oak. On the majority of the floor is a red and bronze color, patterned much like you would see in an old European places.
The bathroom is basic, white tiles on the walls and white floor. She has a small, pastel blue rug, that matches the color of her towels. Under her vanity is cleaning supplies and extra bathroom supplies, plus washcloths. Her mirror is oval, ornate by silver, vine like metal frame. She has only tooth brush, paste, hairbrush, and hand soup surrounding the sink. Within her shower is a loofah, soup and shampoo, with her special hair care stuff.
Her furniture is of a pastel sky blue, while her bed sheets are pure white. She has a light grey throw typically on the end of her bed or over her chair. She has five pillows and needs them all. She has few decorations except for a fake plant upon her in-table and a dream-catcher above her frame. She has an open closet, meaning there is no door. This is not walk in and she has a few boxes in here along with anything worth hanging up. Her bookcase is currently empty due to the fact she sold majority, if not all, to get her motorcycle.
As Genevieve entered her room, she took a huge gulp of air. She had not realized while she fled the lounge she had began to hold her breath in an attempt to avoid the scents around her. Thankfully this room smelled only vaguely of something that made Gen’s skin itch, dust, and stale air. Taking another thankful breath in, she felt her head began to clear. She rushed to the window and opened it wide, practically sticking her head out of the window, only being stopped from the screen, and took welcomed gulps of air.
After her heart began to slow and she began to gain her composure back, she pulled away. She then finally decided to look around the room. The room made her feel like she had went back in time and she felt her heart begin to speed up again. Turning away she stared out the window, looking at the scenery in which encompassed the house. She could feel tears begin to fall from her eyes, she let them.
In all the ten years since her stillbirth and the leaving of her fiance, she had not gained any closure or peace. Clutching at her chest, it took all her control to not wail as if she were a child who just scraped their knee. She would not admit this, but from time to time, especially when plastered, she would cry herself to sleep. Typically this would be triggered by a Lycan ability or a memory of her past or even a call from her family. She wished she was stronger, but she was still broken inside and it was so hard for her to move on. This situation, while argued would help her in the long run, was currently taking down every wall she had. She wondered how much control she would have in front of others.
Finally gaining some composure she turned away from the window and located the side of the bed. She slid down until her ass met the floor, at which she curled into herself. She pulled her knees to her chin and rest her head their, while wrapping her arms around her legs. She let the tears fall down her face while she attempted to gain the numbness she normally felt. Taking an unsteady breath, she closed her eyes and attempted to empty her mind.
oO OOC: I feel like this doesn’t make sense ^^; 0o
Rayne lifted her knuckle to knock on the door but froze when she caught an extremely faint scent of salt. She breathed in through the nose once more and confirmed the gentle smell was present. And it was all too familiar. After years of treating Lycan's and healing the injured, Rayne had practically memorised what exactly tears smelled like, and the faint scent that wafted from this room made her feel uneasy. Someone inside was crying. A stranger. Every inch of herself was pushing for her to burst into the room and comfort whoever was crying, but she knew that not everyone appreciated strangers bursting in on their alone time.
So Rayne took a deep breath and let her clenched fist meet the door in a soft knock, a warning that she was coming in. Her other hand met the doorknob and she slowly pushed the door open, poking her head through the small gap. Her eyes scanned the room, it was quaint and cozy, but she didn't focus on the room much longer once she saw a woman curl up beside the bed, her red dreadlocks hanging around her lightly tear stained face. Rayne quickly slipped into the room, closing the door behind her gently and quietly. She turned her body to face the crying woman, Genevieve, if she remembered correctly, and gave her a ghost of a smile, an indication that she hadn't come in to poke fun or mock. With light feet she came to kneel in front of her. "Hey, sorry to barge in. What's wrong?" No pity, only calm could be found in her voice, the same voice she used for her patients and upset friends. She put her hands on her knees and looked Genevieve up and down for anything that might be physically wrong. She could see nothing and could smell no trace of blood. So she assumed it was an emotional problem, so she stayed quiet and waited for the upset female to respond, even it she replied with an ounce of hostility, Rayne planned to keep her face calm and caring.
Gen had let her mind shut down as she let the full weight of the day and the last few years crash down upon her. She tried not to remember the weight that was once present within her midsection, but how could she forget? Those months that she was blessed, Genevieve had been at her happiest. Now she was cursed, forced to live in a house with monsters she would like to keep buried.
While she let her emotions control her, that also meant the instincts she kept buried were at the surface. This allowed her to hear thr footsteps of the woman before she had knocked. A low growl erupted from the back of her throat as the woman came inside without invite. Gen was, however, unaware of the sound that rumbled from her. Whether or not this intrusion was an act of kindness, the act would go unappreciated.
"Hey, sorry to barge in. What's wrong?" those words were what caused Gen to gaze upwards to the woman kneeling in front of her. The womans expression was kind and calm, which only fueled Gen's annoyance.
"Wrong?" She questioned, rising from her sitting position. She wiped her face with her sleeved arm, not facing the woman while she began to speak, "Nothing is wrong, and if it was, I wouldn't talk to you about it." Somewhere in Gen's mind she knew what she said was harsh, but she was not in the right emotional state to play nice.
By now the smell of dinner had reached her room. The aroma was intoxicating, which her stomach rumbled in response. She realized why the woman originally had come seeking her, she was to fetch the others for dinner. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she turned to the door and started moving to leave. She stopped to only to say, just above a whisper, "I'm leaving for dinner, that's the real reason you came here, correct?" With those words hanging in the air and not waiting for a response, Gen ripped the door off and stomped down the hallway towards the kitchen.
***Exit to Kitchen*** OOC: so internet is shut off. Using phone data to post. So excuse typos and grammar if something is wrong, please and thank you. @rayne
The low growl that the woman gave off the second Rayne entered should've been the first indication that she was not welcome. But she was already here, willing to help. But the red haired Lycan didn't seem to want it. "Wrong?" Rayne fell onto her backside when the woman suddenly stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve fabric of her clothing. Rayne could only look up and brace for the continued wave of slight aggression. "Nothing is wrong, and if it was, I wouldn't talk to you about it." Her words were harsh and might've struck a cord in any other Lycan, but Rayne kept her expressions calm while keeping the small amount of hurt suppressed.
"I'm leaving for dinner, that's the real reason you came here, correct?" Gen spoke again, now standing at the door ready to leave the situation. Rayne only gave a small nod before the upset Lycan stormed off, leaving her sitting on the floor. With a sigh, Rayne brought her hands off the ground and gently rubbed them together, her skin stinging slightly from the impact with the ground. "Wow Rayne, you really helped her out, didn't you." She whispered to herself sarcastically, a frown set on her lips as she hauled herself off the ground and went to follow Genevieve down to the kitchen, not bothering to check if anyone else wasn't present in the kitchen yet. After that experience, she just wanted to eat and converse with some nicer werewolves.