bigkanimaoncampus | POSSESSED

No one had really noticed anything weird going on with Jackson. He'd come back from London around the same time as everything that went on with the nemeton, and any weirdness from that sort of overlapped any weirdness that people might've seen or heard about Jackson.

Besides, he'd been in London. Who knew what had gone on over there. If he was quieter or louder than usual, maybe that was why. Right?

But then weird things started happening. Barrow. Kira. The blackout. And Stiles could've sworn he'd seen glow-paint on Jackson's keys, when everyone had gotten tossed out of that party at Derek's.

So. That was...weird.

For the most part, Jackson seemed to not have changed in his return. Any sleepless nights or frantic night terrors easily explained as residual issues from the kanima. Any erratic behavior seemingly to fit easily in with his usual tactics of being a general jackass. What he didn't confide in anyone was that he was having blackouts again. Periods where he simply couldn't remember, and he would wake up in strange places. His biggest fear was that he was reverting. Becoming the kanima again. But then there was that figure. That creepy, bandage-wrapped thing that kept trying to get him to act.

And then those things started to attack. Those masked monsters that no one knew how to stop. After that, Jackson disappeared. No contact. Nothing. Even his car was missing.

Until one day Stiles got a text. Out of the blue, one rainy night.

Need your help. The old Iron Works building.

Stiles isn't stupid, far from it. Going to the the Iron Works alone without telling anyone would be stupid. He knows that. And yet, almost everyone else is dealing with research or Lydia or trying to figure out what the hell is going on with those masked crazies.

It's just Jackson, after all. He's dealt with worse than Jackson in the past year. Alphas. A darach. Peter Hale. He can handle going to check on Jackson.

So. Maybe he's not stupid, but he's a little...bolder than he ought to be, considering the circumstances.

He ends up at the Iron Works, and already he's unnerved. "Jackson?"

Isaac and Chris had been in London for nearly three months, moving from one city to the next, exploring a world that Isaac thought he might never be involved of. That of hunters, of the history of hunting wherein the Argent family first began so many years before. After three months though Chris' head was clearer, his mind was sharper, and he had ever desire to get back to the States and to the hunt.

Isaac had no desire to go back. Not to the back. Not to a world wherein Allison was gone, and who knew who might be next to die. Maybe one day he'd been ready for that but that time was not now. He saw Chris off at the airport, heading to his own gate and going from Paris back to London.

He'd been in London for a few weeks, wandering from one club to another. Partying. Drinking. Getting into fights. It wasn't a healthy way to handle his grief but then it wasn't as if Isaac was known for making the smartest, safest decisions.

Which was why he was stumbling out of the club that night, practically falling into another guy on the street. His hands clutched at Jackson, not quite looking up to his face yet.

"I'm sorry, Han..."

The words died as he lifted his head, seeing familiar eyes, sharp cheekbones and a well known face.

"Jackson?!"

Jackson--well, the demon who rode around inside him these days--had been tracking Isaac for a while. Another Beacon Hills wolf? What a rare treat. He just had to see for himself, especially with the way Jackson tried to fight the idea.

He planted a hand on Isaac's shoulder, both putting distance between them and steadying the taller wolf. Jackson's face was contorted into the perfect picture of shock and offense. "Isaac?! What the hell are YOU doing here?!"

Knowing that Jackson was in London and then randomly running into him on the street was not the same thing. It was disconcerting and downright odd. This was someone he'd known since he was a wee child. Someone that had known what he was enduring and ignored it. Someone that might not know what had happened since he'd left Beacon Hills.

Just like that the reason that Isaac was in London, all the things he was trying to forget, came flooding back to the forefront of his mind. Tears made his eyes bright, skin paling beyond his already pale shade. His gaze dropped, biting at his lip a minute before looking back up at Jackson. Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "I... I had to get out of Beacon Hills. Argent brought me to Europe but he headed back the other day. Jackson, you should know... We... We lost Allison," he said, voice cracking, closing his eyes tight to try and stop the tears from falling.

Erica was pissed. Jackson was back and she was expected to just accept him into the pack. She wouldn't have had as big a problem with it if something hadn't been off.

His scent was different.

Erica had spoken to Derek about it, tried to get him to believe her but he just blew her off. Deciding to get to the bottom of it, she grabs him at school one day, dragging him into the boy's locker room, locking the door behind her. She didn't hear any other heartbeats and she needed the privacy - it was the closest and most logical choice in her mind. Turning on him, she doesn't hide any of the ire in her voice.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

POSSESSED - Open RP Post

Nogitsune Jackson

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Demon, and combining a few things

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Deeeeemon