Jackson Whittemore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bigkanimaoncampus) wrote2014-09-21 10:18 am
bigkanimaoncampus) wrote2014-09-21 10:18 am
001 // Spam - Video - Open
[ Spam ]
[ His eyes snapped open and he sat up all at once. At first, he wasn’t aware that he wasn’t on the cold floor of an old warehouse. He was only aware of the sudden intensity of everything. Smells. Sounds. Light. It all blurred together into a blinding, deafening, dizzying rush. Claws and fangs extended as he let out an involuntary roar.
But as the rush passed, he was left standing in the middle of his room. Naked. Confused. He went straight to the mirror, one clawed hand gripping the edge. He caught his reflection just in time to see the fangs and other newly acquired features features retreating. He’d done it. He’d finally become what he’d been after all along! He was struck with startling color of his eyes. Was it because Derek was the one to bite him? Derek had blue eyes before they’d brought Peter down. But everyone else had yellow. Maybe it was just rare?
He could think about that later. For now, there was something more important to do. He started getting dressed. He was pulling on his jeans as it slowly came together. The important thing he had to do was find Lydia. The key she’d offered to save him. What she'd said to him... But that had been in a warehouse. How was he back here? Where was she? He needed to find everyone else. Get answers. He snatched up his phone from the dresser and stopped. It was a phone, but not his. Those idiots!
Shoving it into his pocket, he headed for the door. Beyond should have been the upstairs hall of his house. The familiar smells of home. But instead he was greeted by the harsh light of the unfamiliar corridor, lined with strange doors. He took a cautious step out of his room, manicured brows furrowing. ]
MCCALL!
[ He called out, confused and angry. But then the smallest note of worry and fear entered his voice as he added...]
Lydia?
[ That fear started to settle in. The strange, unsettling lack of familiarity. He retreated back into his room, slamming the door. Pulling out that phone that wasn't his, he tried to see if there was something he could use on it. Someone to call. And rather quickly, he found the option to broadcast a message... ]
[ Video ]
[ The face that fills the frame is handsome in that douchebag model kind of way. Well, it would be, if he weren’t so incredibly pissed off. ]
I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but someone out there is going to give me answers! Derek! MCCALL! I don’t care who! But you’re going to tell me what the HELL is going on and WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE REST OF MY HOUSE!
[ His seething rage seems to overpower him for a moment, his teeth grinding together. ]
If Stilinski had anything to do with this, he’s DEAD.
[ His eyes snapped open and he sat up all at once. At first, he wasn’t aware that he wasn’t on the cold floor of an old warehouse. He was only aware of the sudden intensity of everything. Smells. Sounds. Light. It all blurred together into a blinding, deafening, dizzying rush. Claws and fangs extended as he let out an involuntary roar.
But as the rush passed, he was left standing in the middle of his room. Naked. Confused. He went straight to the mirror, one clawed hand gripping the edge. He caught his reflection just in time to see the fangs and other newly acquired features features retreating. He’d done it. He’d finally become what he’d been after all along! He was struck with startling color of his eyes. Was it because Derek was the one to bite him? Derek had blue eyes before they’d brought Peter down. But everyone else had yellow. Maybe it was just rare?
He could think about that later. For now, there was something more important to do. He started getting dressed. He was pulling on his jeans as it slowly came together. The important thing he had to do was find Lydia. The key she’d offered to save him. What she'd said to him... But that had been in a warehouse. How was he back here? Where was she? He needed to find everyone else. Get answers. He snatched up his phone from the dresser and stopped. It was a phone, but not his. Those idiots!
Shoving it into his pocket, he headed for the door. Beyond should have been the upstairs hall of his house. The familiar smells of home. But instead he was greeted by the harsh light of the unfamiliar corridor, lined with strange doors. He took a cautious step out of his room, manicured brows furrowing. ]
MCCALL!
[ He called out, confused and angry. But then the smallest note of worry and fear entered his voice as he added...]
Lydia?
[ That fear started to settle in. The strange, unsettling lack of familiarity. He retreated back into his room, slamming the door. Pulling out that phone that wasn't his, he tried to see if there was something he could use on it. Someone to call. And rather quickly, he found the option to broadcast a message... ]
[ Video ]
[ The face that fills the frame is handsome in that douchebag model kind of way. Well, it would be, if he weren’t so incredibly pissed off. ]
I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but someone out there is going to give me answers! Derek! MCCALL! I don’t care who! But you’re going to tell me what the HELL is going on and WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE REST OF MY HOUSE!
[ His seething rage seems to overpower him for a moment, his teeth grinding together. ]
If Stilinski had anything to do with this, he’s DEAD.
no subject
[A lonnnng pause and a shrug.]
Sorry. [THREE GUESSES HOW SINCERE THAT SOUNDS.]
no subject
Lahey. [ The name is more of a growl than anything. ]
This another one of Derek's little tests?!
no subject
No. You've got a lot of catching up to do, Jackson.
no subject
Like what? Did you finally get demoted from Derek's favorite lackey, finally?
no subject
Why, you gunning for that spot?
no subject
I'm not exactly the lap dog type, Lahey.
no subject
no subject
WHERE ARE YOU?
no subject
You've got the nose to go with those eyes, right? Why don't you use them and track me down if you've got something you want to say to my face?
no subject
Or maybe you could stop being a coward for once and stop hiding!
no subject
no subject
WHERE ARE YOU, LAHEY?!
no subject
And I don't mean that condescendingly. Try to-- I don't know, take deep breaths or something. You're going to wolf out. We don't need a rogue werewolf running around right now.
no subject
I'll only relax when I've RIPPED YOU APART!
no subject
[And, true to his word, he cuts the connection.]
[Private]
[It's quiet, just his name, because damn if he doesn't understand why Isaac reacts the way he does. But he knows Isaac is better than reacting to Jackson's pettiness, too.]
[Private]
[But he does feel bad. Kinda. The tiniest bit. He should be better than this, probably.]
[Private]
He just died. Maybe you can hold off until he, like, knows where he is?
[Private]
[Because it's totally a democracy. Right? Right?]
[Private]
[He's basically always treated it as such so sure???? Ish???]
...But he is a new werewolf. I'm gonna try to help him. [Try being the operative word.]
[Private]
You think he'll listen to you?
[Private]
Not really. [He laughs, just a little.] But he'll have to eventually.
[Private]
He's totally a good warden, I swear.]
He's not going to be happy with you as an alpha. [And if he tries to mess with you...]
[Private]
I know. Don't worry, though. I'm pretty sure I can handle him. [No he has no fucking clue what he's going to do but hey winging it has worked in the past????] Besides, I don't need to be his alpha. I just need to teach him not to lose it on a full moon.
[Private]
If you're planning on taking him up to the CES, don't do any of the full moon training montage stuff without me, dude. Or don't do it until he figures out what his anchor's gonna be. He's going to be one angry werewolf.
[Private]