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alphalogs2016-10-16 01:42 pm
- adam parrish [the raven cycle],
- alcide herveaux [true blood],
- allison argent [teen wolf],
- derek hale [teen wolf],
- emma swan [once upon a time],
- gracie cannell [original],
- isabelle lightwood [shadowhunters],
- lydia martin [teen wolf],
- natasha romanoff [mcu],
- oliver queen [arrow],
- ronan lynch [the raven cycle],
- steve rogers [mcu],
- tony stark [mcu]
Daycycle 112 [ October 16 - October 22 ]
daycycle 112
[Oct 16 - Oct 22]
[OOC Plotting for this Dacycle can be found here.]
Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty
No Special Troubleshooters have been selected for a mission this morning.
Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.
Free Enterprise is pushing a new, adjusted street form of No Fear (Dynomorphin). The original pharmaceutical is meant for those in Ultraviolet ranks, but this form is much dirtier, cheaper and more addictive. In order to get people hooked, they've put a healthy dose in the wagon wheel's ORANGE and RED level coffee-like supplies. The drug causes a very bullet proof feeling of euphoria. Side effects include paranoia, hallucinations, increased sociability, increased sex drive, panic attacks, excited delirium - extreme agitation and violence, and the temporary loss of feeling in nerve endings (inability to feel pain). A standard dose lasts four hours. Withdrawal symptoms include nosebleeds, sweating, nausea, dehydration and blinding migraines. For those that want more of the drug, Free Enterprise will make it easily accessible.
At 1200, a squad of Grey Ops will arrive at Medical Services to escort Caitlin Snow away for suspected treason. Anyone asking for additional information will be told it's classified and warned not to continue asking questions. Approximately fifteen minutes later another squad of Grey Ops will arrive at Internal Security to lead Vision away. Anyone asking for additional information will be given the same party line.
At 1400 today, Jack Harkness will be summoned by Mind Control to the Production offices on the twenty fifth floor. There he will be offered a position in Media Production where he will assist with the Teela O'Malley show. This position will come with a clearance level promotion of ORANGE, since the talk show star doesn't associate with anyone of lower clearance level. Jack will be responsible for ramping up the excitement levels of the live audience and the personal entertainment of the star.
Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.
Tonight’s event will be at 1900 in Meeting Room G, Wagon Wheel Floor 24 and will be hosted by the Alpha Smiling Club. Join us tonight for refreshments and tips on faking it until you make it!
Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.
Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.
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Alcide is still new here. He's still getting his bearings. This is why he goes through much of the morning routine in a daze. He shares a room with Buffy Summers and Derek Hale. He has yet to really meet Derek aside from in passing, but his roommates seem okay. In the morning he gets up and dressed, then heads to breakfast where he's relieved that there's coffee with his rations that look like colorless glop. If there's coffee then the day is at least getting off on the right start.
[ mid-day ]
By lunchtime, Alcide is feeling jittery in every way. It's not unlike the added edge of being Alpha of a pack of wild wolves has given him before. It's like flying high on power. It's a thrill. It's also dangerous for a man with the temperament of an Alpha wolf to feel this way.
There's a very good reason Alcide gave up being in a pack, turned to being a lone wolf. He didn't like himself when he had that power. It almost changed him in a horrible way. He prefers to be a good guy than the man he had almost given himself over to. In that vein of being the Alpha, of wanting his wolf, of wishing it were here, he's having trouble keeping his jumpsuit all the way on. By mid day, he's wishing he could shift so much that the top half of his jumpsuit is hanging off at his waist and people are lucky the rest of it from the waist down is still on.
Whatever's happening to him right now, it isn't good. The wild look in his eyes, a look that gets even more wild as the day progresses, should warn most people that he isn't himself.
[ evening ]
By night time, Alcide is coming down from that high in a devastating way. Whatever happened to him today, he didn't like it every but as much as he didn't like the unnatural power of being the Alpha of his pack in Shreveport. It took him over in a way he hates.
He'll spend most of his night in his room, avoiding people. At dinner time, he'll head into the cafeterias. After eyeing the rations with suspicion, he'll make a decision not to eat or drink anything and walk out.
Mid-Day
She's feeling particularly chatty today as they traverse the hallways, her swinging her club at her side, him...undressing. She glances at him then glances again. She swallows hard, that keyed up feeling getting worse. She exhales. "The jumpsuits are--I mean like they couldn't have chosen something less fashionable, could they? And red really isn't my color. They should have picked a nice blue. Or white. I like the way I look in white."
She might be rambling a bit more today, even before he started getting undressed.
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He'd been thankful for the company when Buffy has first invited him to patrol with her. Now, he's not so sure that he isn't about to humiliate himself. But everything is amped up, including the girl walking next to him, heat radiating from her skin, her smell, her tone of voice. It could all be in his head, but he really feels like he's been given all the worst parts of his wolf back.
"White." He says, drawing deep breaths and occasionally growling in exhale. "Yeah, you look good in white. I mean you would." This is definitely a normal conversation. Never mind that he's imagining all of Buffy's pale white skin... all of it. There are a lot of things that his wolf amps up, sex drive included. Maybe his wolf isn't here, not really, but whatever's happening... it's happening. This is definitely, most absolutely (not) a normal conversation.
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She thought company and distraction would be good given the restless vibe he's putting off, not to mention she'd thought it would help her own restlessness. She doesn't feel like she's going to shift (though she wouldn't have a clue what that would feel like) but she does feel keyed up the way she used to after a night of slaying. Her skin is buzzing and she's hungry, but not for the slop they serve in the commissary. She could definitely go for
some sexa low fat yogurt.She hears that growl and it's sexy as fuck (oh hell what is wrong with her?) but she takes a deep breath and practices self control. She can pretend it's senior year with Angel and all the no touching and no happy-joy making. She's good at that, except it's been years. Not since she had sex, at least not according to the glitches and why the hell can't she stop thinking about sex. That way generally leads to badness anyway.
"Thanks," she says, swallowing hard as she casts a glance over to him. "You look good in red. I mean...you're lucky. Red is a good color on you, but so is the whole shirtlessness thing. It's a good look. You're very tan. You must have spent a lot of time outside where--where were you from. In the glitches, I mean. With the tan and the shirtlessness and God...I'm sorry. I didn't--" She plasters her hand over her mouth and mumbles against it 'just going to shut up now' except it probably just sounds like a bunch of noise.
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"From Louisiana. I did construction." So yeah, he was outside a lot, a lot of the time shirtless. Hence, the tan.
She's looking and him and he's looking at her as she rambles and the air feels thick between the two of them. Holy fuck, what's his damage? He feels that 'out of control' that he felt when he tried to let himself give over to his Alphaness and become Pack Master. It's a bad sign. Or maybe it's a good sign the way he's thinking about getting the red off of Buffy so he can see her in white instead.
No. Stay on track. "You? You must be from Alaska. A desk job." Get it? Because she's so pale compared to him.
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The idea is so foreign to her. They'd taken such care to give Oz his privacy when he'd shifted and Buffy is pretty sure the only time she found herself naked in public is when she'd been turned into a rat then turned back. She'd been mortified. Needless to say, Buffy is a great deal more modest than Alcide. Of course, maybe if she were a shifter, she wouldn't be modest. It strikes her for a moment as she glances over at Alcide, maybe she shouldn't dissuade him from stripping. She blushes and immediately admonishes herself.
"That explains the accent and the tan." Or at least she assumes it does. "I tried construction once. I got fired the same day." There had been a monster and she'd been more trouble than she was worth.
The air does feel thick between the two of them. When had the air gotten so stifling? Buffy fans herself with one hand. This is ridiculous. Maybe she'd had too much coffee. She hadn't known there was such a thing as too much coffee. Walking will help. It'll work off some of the restlessness and that leads to her thinking of other ways to work off restlessness and wow this guy just got here and what is her damage?
His comment gets a confused look from her. "No. California actually. I'm kind of a night owl." She glances down at her hands. "I'm probably getting a lot paler here. I'll be practically Casper before long."
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Well, when he says he has no ulterior motives... right now he's still thinking about getting that jumpsuit off of her and fucking her against a wall. Whatever's going on with him really is poking at his Alpha-ness and the missing wolf parts and taking him for a ride. Does that count as an ulterior motive? Maybe. He'd like to think it doesn't.
"You're damn pretty for a ghost." He teases/flirts with her.
Alcide stops in his tracks, closes his eyes and cants his head back, taking a deep breath as he tries, once again, to get control of himself. His thumbs are hooked in the waist of his jumpsuit again. His private parts are barely covered, just barely. Still, he tries to do the right thing just because that's who Alcide is underneath it all. "You should probably get away from me, Casper. I don't think I'm safe for anyone right now."
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"Well, a demon showed up and I destroyed about half the construction sight killing him," Buffy answers. "I can't really blame them." The little that she'd done, she'd actually been good at. Of course, that had been mostly picking up heavy loads and moving them. Pack mule was something she excelled at. She's not sure pretty ever factored into it. She also misses the compliment and she can generally handle that level of sexism because she's getting a chance. Besides, in her experience, if someone underestimates her because she's pretty, it gives her an advantage. She likes honesty and simplicity, not that she's ever dated anyone who was simple. Even Riley had ended up being as complicated as anyone she'd ever dated. Almost. Being a good guy is important.
The important thing here is that he isn't acting on his alpha-ness and ulterior motives, right? If Buffy knew what he was thinking, she might not agree with that. Of course, her thoughts when looking at him are slightly more innocent. She's thinking about kissing him, about feeling all of that bare skin that he's putting on display and she refuses to let herself think beyond that. Mostly. Oh hell, his thoughts aren't much worse than hers and she's got no idea why this clawing, restless sexual frustration has chosen to rocket to unbearable levels tonight. She's seen people shirtless since she came here. Her roomie is a gorgeous guy (two of them now) and it's unavoidable to see him shirtless occasionally. Big deal it's not, or it hadn't been until today and the sight of Alcide shirtless is driving her to distraction.
The flirting gets her attention. She ducks her head, flushing a little and grinning. She's obviously pleased by the compliment. "I've never actually run into a real ghost," she rambles in lieu of knowing what to say. "Have you?"
But then he's stopping in the hall way and her attention is entirely on him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her gaze devours him. He looks like some sort of sex god, or a guy on a bodice ripper romance novel right now and that desire that had been momentarily stifled by the simple pleasure of being complimented by a cute guy comes rushing back, suffusing every cell in her body with a fire and need that she hasn't felt in far too long. Her eyes linger on that line of muscle just beneath his hipbones and holy everything why is that such a good line of muscle for a guy to have. When he speaks, it takes her a second to realize it, her eyes finally flickering from that expanse of muscle and the obvious show of his own desire up to his face. "Uhm...what? Why?"
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In any case, he's got more (ahem) pressing matters to consider in the moment. So pressing that he almost misses her question. "I live in Louisiana, the place is full of ghosts." At least, that's part of the mythology and folklore of the place. Ghosts on every corner in every building. Alcide can't say for sure if he's ever run into a ghost. He's had some pretty odd, unexplained experiences though.
His eyes slowly open, brown in the moment, but he can almost feel them turning golden, like his wolf's eyes. They aren't turning gold, of course. But that doesn't mean he doesn't think they are.
He looks at Buffy, head slowly canting back in the right position as a low rumbling growl continues to escape him at every exhale, almost like a dangerous purr. Then his large hands are on her shoulders and he's got her pinned against a wall. He's kissing her almost ravenously, with such fervor that he can't imagine why this could be wrong. It feels right. Everything about this feels right in the moment. It doesn't matter where they are or who might see. He doesn't give a shit.
"I want you, Casper." He hisses against her lips, already reaching for the zipper of her jumpsuit to pull me down. "Wanna see you in white."
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Yeah, she's thinking of those pressing matters as well, or trying not to think of them. She's trying very hard to focus on what he's saying so she's nodding like she agrees, like she knows what he's talking about. "I've never been to Louisiana," she responds because she's not thinking about how he's half naked and practically vibrating with desire that seems contagious. She's trying not to think about how her whole body is feverish with want.
Her teeth bury in her bottom lip as he watches her and she looks back at him.
That rumbling growl makes her breath catch and she stifles a mewling sort of moan against her lip. She can almost taste blood then he's touching her and kissing her, breathing her and devouring her and it's exactly what she wants. No, it's exactly what she needs. Her hands are all over his skin and her legs wrap around his waist, pressing the center of herself against his hardness. There's a very small, very quiet voice in the back of her head that tells her this hallway is full of cameras and anyone could be watching, but her desire for him, her need for him smothers that little voice.
He's whispering against her mouth and telling her what she already knows, echoing her own desires. Her hands tangle in his hair, tugging at it and she bites at his bottom lip. Her body, her lips, her kiss, her breath all scream how much she wants him, how much she needs him and in this moment, she doesn't even question it.
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It's only that perceived amped up wolf in him that wants to push it farther, wants to take all of it, whatever he can get. And right now, it seems like it's all of it, on both sides.
When she wraps her legs around his waist and he feels that pressure, that friction, only separated by thin cotton, he's ready to rip her jumpsuit open right then. And really he does try to stop himself, tries to focus on kisses that are all teeth and tongue and neediness. But then the seam at the zipper is tearing and he can reach inside to touch pale, smooth skin. The paleness of her skin is a beautiful contrast to the red.
His hips push in and in and in to get more even as his fingers fondle and pinch at pert nipples. "You want me too." He can already tell this is true. He just wants and needs to say it. Because Alcide, on a normal day, isn't this guy either. He's only this guy when the Alpha gets to him. He hates who he is when that happens. Right now he wants. Tomorrow he's gonna have to atone for a lot. "Wanna hear you say it, Buffy."
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She'll hate herself tomorrow. She'll be awkward and embarrassed. She may even try to avoid him for a little while, but right now none of that is on her mind. Her nails dig into his skin (he'll probably have scratch marks tomorrow) and she arches against him, pressing harder, asking for more physically, gasping for breath and needing so much to taste more of him. She sucks at his bottom lip, not caring that he's ripping her jumpsuit. She moans softly when his hands are finally against her skin, warm and calloused in all of the right places.
She presses harder against him, the heels of her feet digging into his ass as her hands slide down his back. She doesn't care that the wall is hard against her back. She bucks against him when he pinches her. "Fuck yes, I want you. Right now," she says it almost as an order then dips her head to place her lips against his neck then bites hard. She squirms and wiggles against him, trying to shed the jumpsuit she's partially wearing.
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There's nothing between them now, as his arousal slides along the slick already gathered between her thighs. Normally, he might have tried to go slower, to be more gentle, more romantic, to be more himself, but right now that's the last thing on his mind. He's at his basest instincts. Girl pretty. Sex. Fuck. Want. Yes. Now.
Already, he's inside. It's so easy with the both of them wanting the way they do right now. He growls again, kissing, biting, tasting blood and Buffy herself, fucking with a wildness that Alcide might be accustomed to with partners he's familiar with. Tomorrow, he'll know that this was and is different. He's only known Buffy a day and a half, after all. But right now, he's being very much himself, very much the Alpha wolf parts of himself. And as long as Buffy seems okay with that, so is he.
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Evening
It's been an uncharacteristically good day and Derek wants to keep the momentum going, so he's whistling a Fall Out Boy — It's Dance, Dance, and don't judge him — tune to keep himself pumped and positive.
When Derek walks into the room and notes that Alcide is already in there, he can't help noticing the state of the other man's jumpsuit and his jaw goes slack with awe. "Oh, why didn't I think of that?!" he complains. "This thing is so itchy, I hate it." If Alcide can do it, so can Derek, he thinks as he starts to unzip his own jumpsuit to peel it down to his waist. "I'm Derek, by the way. I don't think we've actually gotten a chance to talk much, but I wanted to formally introduce myself."
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He stops in the middle of the room, pulling his hands away from the waist of the jumpsuit and crossing his arms over his chest. It's his other roommate, Derek. "Right?" He tries to sound normal when Derek says how he hates the jumpsuit. That sounded normal, right? Right. He's just so thankful for the interruption to the trajectory of his thoughts and actions.
"Derek. I'm Alcide Herveaux." He offers a hand to shake. "Startin' to think this is some big social experiment." He looks up in the corners for cameras, wondering if he's allowed to say that. Buffy had warned him against using the slavery word the other day, at least not where the computer can hear it.
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Taking Alcide's hand, Derek smiles and shakes it. "Derek Hale," he says, since the other guy gave both names and Derek had only given his first. "Nice to meet you," he says. Which, okay, is probably a little bit weird considering they've been living in the same room for a couple of days, already, but to be fair, this is technically the first time they're actually introducing themselves to each other.
"I'm not sure it isn't," Derek mutters under his breath. He clears his throat a little and nods toward the camera on the wall. Tread lightly, the look on his face warns, because he's not exactly keen on the idea of being questioned and he gets the feeling that if one of them gets in trouble, they all get in trouble. "Or a trashy reality show I forgot I signed up for."
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"I just want it off." He admits, almost daring anyone, including Derek, to make fun of him for it.
The handshake is firm and Alcide is pleased to get both names. His dad had always told him that any man worth his weight has two names and isn't afraid to use both of them. Alcide has always lived by that. Maybe he even unfairly judges a man who won't give both names to be untrustworthy. One of the less harmful prices of being Jackson Herveaux's son.
The reality show comment gets a smirk out of Alcide. Having cameras in a private living space does give it that feel, he guesses. And he likes Derek's sense of humor about it. "How long you been here?" Small talk is a good idea. Maybe it'll keep him from doing anything he regrets.
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"Yeah, I feel you," he sympathizes with a frown. Derek doesn't think it'd be awkward if they both just indulged in that urge, but there's a couple of reasons he's not inclined. One of those reasons is the fact that there are cameras everywhere and while he isn't insecure about his body or worried about people seeing it for the sake of seeing it, he isn't really interested in getting arrested for treason if being naked is against the law here. Considering everything else that they consider to be treasonous, it honestly would not surprise him. The other reason he doesn't wish to disrobe is named Buffy.
With a little smile, Derek drops down on his bed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "Almost two weeks. So not as long as some, but...long enough," he says, "to be fed up with it."
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"Fed up is right." He says with a nod. It's been two days and he's already fed up. Then again, Alcide doesn't have much tolerance for injustice. And that's just what this seems like to him. Abducted and put to work, bits of himself missing without his consent? Yep. Injustice. Someone's gonna pay.
"I think they did somethin' to us today. Maybe..." He looks up at the vent that usually pumps a sleep aide into the room. "Maybe through the vent." Buffy bought him a gas mask, but maybe it was pumped into the room after he took his off this morning. Alcide really, really hates being drugged.
He's still glaring at the vent when his exhale turns into a low, dangerous growl. "Fuck this shit."
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"You think?" he asks. Derek can't recall feeling any different, but then maybe that's because he doesn't realize just how closed off and cold he can sometimes be perceived to be. "...that explains the dancing," he realizes, though, giving a facial shrug and a little nod. "And the groping." Katniss first, several clients at his troubleshooting station as the afterthought.
The problem is that Derek is still largely feeling pretty good. He's just had another cup of coffee before coming into the room and that frustration he usually feels has drained away. Alcide's upset isn't lost on him, but he can't relate to it right now. "Easy, chief. Those cameras have microphones you know. I'd prefer not going through an interrogation because you got carted off, you know? Take a breath. I know it sucks, but there's not a whole lot we can do until we have more information and a few more Specials get more clearance than we've got right now. I'm not very good at patience, either, but we kinda don't have a choice, man."
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Alcide reels and glares. His words are practically growled out. "Don't tell me what to do!"
He catches himself, takes that rage and tries so damn hard to reel it in. He doesn't need to buck up to Derek, show him who's in charge. There's no reason for that because he isn't in charge here. He even quit being in charge back home, left being Pack Master behind him. So then why does he feel so on edge? Why does he feel that wildness of being Alpha right now.
He runs both hands back over his head and pulls slightly at his hair, the sting of it helping to bring him into the present. "Look man, I'm sorry. I'll leave." Alcide doesn't want to get anyone in trouble, after all. He's always an 'others before self' kind of guy. "Just know this isn't me. It isn't me." Except deep down, on some level, no matter how he fights it, it is him. Alpha is Alcide Herveaux.
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Instead, he lays back on his bed after holding up two hands defensively and lifting his eyebrows in a whoa, chill out, expression. "You don't have to go. I'm just waiting for Buffy and the sleep gas and I'm out of here anyway for a while. Doesn't matter. Where are you gonna go? There's nowhere in this place to go you won't run into someone else that pisses you off with a more lax attitude. I'm probably about as mild as I've seen so far today."
...he's thinking of Katniss.
Clearing his throat, Derek looks over at him. "You do you. I'm taking a nap before I'm up all night."
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Also, maybe there's a surprising twinge of jealousy there. Which makes no sense since he's only known Buffy a day and a half. It's stupid so he pushes that away and just lets it be. He can't help it if Buffy and Alcide are a couple. He also can't change what happened in the hallway earlier even if he wishes he could rewind and get a do over.
In any case, he's glad that Derek seems to take his outburst in stride, another reason to like the guy even if whatever's wrong with him is working hard to make Alcide himself very unlikable on all fronts.
"What are you doin' when you're stayin' up all night?" He asks. "You don't get caught?"
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But this chill mood has overtaken him and loosened his lips. In too many ways, really, but at least with Alcide it's just talking.
"We explore," he says with a shrug. "So far we haven't gotten caught. Can't say that'll be true forever, but for now? We've been pretty lucky, so far." His eyes open for a moment and he looks back at the other man. "Tell her to wake me up when it's time? She'll know what you mean," he asks. If Buffy could wake him up before the vents open, so he could put on the gas mask, then he'll be fine. If she can't or forgets, she's on her own for the night.
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"I'll tell her." He tells Derek with a nod. Buffy will wake Derek up and Alcide will... man the fort until they get back.
He wants to ask if they've found anything interesting in their night time explorations, but it looks like Derek is done with the conversation and Alcide doesn't want to push having just met the guy. Especially after his own outburst and the chill way Derek had handled it. He can ask Buffy later. There's also a small part of him that wonders if 'explore' is code for something else.
"I'll let you rest until then. Sorry for the... you know." That thing he did.
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