One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: VioletPanda on 10-05-2017, 02:05:59</h2>
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				Title: <strong>One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VioletPanda</strong> on <strong>10-05-2017, 02:05:59</strong>
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				<br><div align="center">(http://hiddenremote.com/files/2015/06/sense8.png)</div><div align="center">I am We</div><br><br><br><br><div align="center">(http://slightlywarped.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/sense8_limbic.jpg)(http://]https://bellsandthistle.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/bathroom1.jpg)</div><br><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header"> Vince</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b1/dd/8f/b1dd8f29c359bca11409c027c26a01a6.jpg)</div></div></div>To say that a part of him was dead was an understatement. To say that part of him a raw and bleeding stump was a hell of a lot closer to the truth. And the worst part of it was that no one around him knew the&nbsp; truth. He had to hide the pain behind a smile because his ex wife didn't give a shit, his coworkers and friends had no idea that a piece of him had been ripped away. Nor would they care that in an old warehouse, a woman named Angelica had died. People thought they knew what loss was when a sibling or a lover died. But they would never understand the loss of a sensate. <br><br>&nbsp;While a beautiful woman died in a disgusting abandoned building on a dirty mattress, Vince was watching The Fox and the Hound with his 8 year old daughter and he felt all of it. <br>"Daddy! Daddy, it's okay! Todd and Copper will still be friends at the end!"<br>&nbsp;<br>The cartoon woman was leaving Todd out in the woods while tears streamed down his face and that evening's dinner was going to make an second appearance any second. <br>"I-I'll be right back baby girl, my tummy's not happy-" he chocked out before dragging his ass to the bathroom to throw up. <br><br><br>It burned like hot tar, like he'd swallowed gasoline and a lit match. Oh God, he couldn't do this. How could anything hurt this much?!<br><br>He body jerked violently and felt Jonas's hand on his shoulder, comforting wordlessly. Though he knew Jonas was miles away, the touch was just was solid and real. At least someone in the world understood this pain. In fact...it was only 6 other people now. He could feel the others, lending him their support, gathering around him from around the world, stroking his hair, murmuring softly. <br><br>Once again he was stunned that they could be so...compassionate. So strong. They were in just as much pain as he was- how could they still give like this? As his shuddering eased, he reached down and tried to give some comfort of his own, holding the hand of one of his clustermates. He wasn't really any good at that sort of thing. But at least he was trying.<br><br>How were they going to get through losing Angel?<br><br>Jonas was the one who seemed like their rock, right now.<br><br>"Vincent, there are two other clusters out there. We have to help them. I'm going to Chicago tomorrow."<br><br>Vince wiped his face off with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. <br><br>"I can't fucking do that, Jonas." <br>He throat felt raw and his soul even worse.<br>"I'm not like you, okay. Never have been. How am I supposed to teach other people what this means when I still fuck it up myself?"<br><br>"You never give yourself enough credit, Vincent. You are capable of so much more than you believe you are. We need you. We need you to find them and help them. ...Do it for Angel."<br><br>"Fuck, Jonas. Just-Fuck! Fuck!"<br><br>&nbsp;He bit his lip, hard to stop the stream of curse words. Violet didn't need to hear any of that shit. But Vince wasn't saying no. He couldn't. Fuck.<br><br>"I know, Vince. I know."<br><br>There was silence for a moment.<br><br>"...Where do I gotta go?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FeveredDreams</strong> on <strong>10-05-2017, 22:42:47</strong>
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				It was one of those evenings.&nbsp; Tonight,&nbsp; the rain was coming down in a torrent.&nbsp; It wasn’t exactly cold enough to snow…&nbsp; &nbsp;but it was far from pleasant when those angry little drops&nbsp; managed to find the way to one of the few bits of bare skin the nearly six foot tall girl was sporting.&nbsp; &nbsp;She couldn’t ride in this,&nbsp; and she didn’t want to deal with the chill.&nbsp; She was lucky enough to not be that far away from one of the local dives that she spent time in.&nbsp; She’d be able to catch the game,&nbsp; maybe get herself a greasy burger,&nbsp; and far more importantly she’d be able to find herself all nice and warmed up by filling her belly with some cheap whiskey.&nbsp; <br><br>She pulled into a nearby alleyway not far away.&nbsp; She killed the ignition,&nbsp; and even flicked the hidden switch that she had connected to the machine to keep it from roaring to life.&nbsp; Sure it didn’t completely remove the chance that a good thief would be able to take it,&nbsp; but,&nbsp; around these parts most of the people weren’t skilled.&nbsp; Those types were further up north,&nbsp; where the cars were expensive and the owners were dumb.&nbsp; She brought the kick stands to the pavement and brought a bent and rolled cigarette to her lips.&nbsp; She sparked&nbsp; it to life and inhaled deeply.&nbsp; Her eyes closed before the street rat exhaled two thick clouds of bluish smoke.&nbsp; <br><br>Cassandra was clad in a thick leather jacket,&nbsp; beneath that a black&nbsp; hoody which had it’s hood pulled up to almost conceal her eyes.&nbsp; On her legs were a pair of some old looking stained blue jeans,&nbsp; and over them was a pair of thick rather new looking leather chaps.&nbsp; On her feet she wore a pair of thick soled black biker boots.&nbsp; &nbsp; She headed towards the&nbsp; oor her heels clicking on the pavement as she went<br><br>Instead of entering right away she leaned up against the wall.&nbsp; She took a deep long drag of her smoke and looked up at the skyline.&nbsp; It was a glimmering gem,&nbsp; as beautiful as it was cold.&nbsp; It was her city,&nbsp; gritty and cold…&nbsp; and full of people just like her.&nbsp; Sure the government tried to do everything in it’s power to make it seem like it was a friendly place.&nbsp; No one who spent time here believed it.&nbsp; They saw it for what it was steel stone,&nbsp; with the people who lived there often taking on Chicago’s properties either out of necessity or an understanding.<br><br>The weak shouldn’t be walking the street when the sun went down.&nbsp; Let the soft folks claim Wriggleyville and the Loop.&nbsp; While the hard ran through the rest of the Windy City.&nbsp; She couldn’t help but smile.&nbsp; At least all those up in arms for gentrification were perfect marks.&nbsp; They had the cash to feed her,&nbsp; and occasionally those around her when she was feeling charitable.&nbsp; Once more the tall girl inhaled and exhaled before flicking her cigarette into the gutter as a beaten up old Lincoln drove past.&nbsp; The sound of heavy bass filled the air as it roared past.&nbsp; She smiled and shook her head.&nbsp; <strong>“Kids these days.”</strong>&nbsp; She said,&nbsp; her voice was deeper than most girls and possessed the hint of a purr.&nbsp; It might have brought images of some large bored big feline to mind.<br><br>She headed towards the door and looked up at the bouncer.&nbsp; She flashed a little predatory grin.&nbsp; <strong>“Sup Ripper?”</strong>&nbsp; She said staring up at the giant biker.&nbsp; The man simply leaned in and gave the girl a hug which she returned.&nbsp; It wasn’t affectionate,&nbsp; instead it was almost familial with both of them slapping each other a bit to hard on their backs.&nbsp; <br><strong><br>“Come on in Cass.&nbsp; We got you’re favorite shit on special, rot gut.</strong>”&nbsp; He said before moving to the side of the door.&nbsp; <br><br>With that her boots led her directly to the bar.&nbsp; She brought her backside down onto a bar stool rather gracelessly and lifted a hand to the bartender.&nbsp; <strong>“The usual.” </strong> Almost with that a Pabst Blue Ribbon and a shot glass of very strong smelling whiskey was placed in front her.&nbsp; She smiled and gave a little nod.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Primarch</strong> on <strong>11-05-2017, 01:44:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/a82458922382df95d4dee6f7869e26f2/tumblr_njjbjaxlJd1rpwwe9o1_500.gif)</div><br><strong>Name:</strong> Séamus Hennessy<br><strong>Location</strong>: Private Rehab Facility. Cork, Ireland<br><strong>Tagging</strong>: Niamh<br><hr><br>Shay had entered rehab two weeks ago. The bags under his eyes and the little extra fuzz framing the shape of his jaw indicated he had not been taking to it particularly well. It was early days though, he was still getting used to not being able to relax at the end of an evening with a drink. Just a little something to take the edge off of the day. It had been all the harder because he had not been able to speak with Niamh, his rock. Her support in his life was the foundation from which he could stand tall. The first two weeks they had explained were no guests, no visitors. It was important to build up a healthy routine that would later became habit for when he left, detox from the world a little and just focus on getting better. Today he got to see Niamh. That would make it better. <br><br>The Irish MMA fighter was sitting on a wooden bench outside the old Manor that had been converted in the private and secluded retreat. It was afternoon now and he had already gone through breakfast and morning CBT (which he discovered stood for Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and not, to his relief, Cock-Ball Torture) and lastly 'productivity classes.' For some that was yoga or dance but for Shay it was just gym time. That was fine for him. At the very least his training wasn't suffering in any real way. He didn't have a proper coach but he was getting by. He had spoken to Niamh to confirm they were still on, sadly he didn't have access to his mobile phone. That too was restricted. <br><br>Honestly the whole thing was a bit uncomfortable, perhaps now that he knew he had a problem he would be better at home. If things went well he had the idea in his head he might ask her to sign him out, take him home. Let him rest. The place was supposedly good for him, he didn't feel good. He was exhausted and agitated. <br><br>Once his free time in the day started he jumped in for a shower to freshen up, made sure everything was all clean and pleasant for his lady. Shay changed into the salmon shirt she had bought him for his birthday two years ago, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. A pair of boot cut jeans, the pricey ones that fit real nice (he had been doing so many squats recently he might as well show it off) and they were held firm by a slender leather belt with a smooth, flat silver belt buckle. On one hand he wore his favourite watch, a watch which he feared if anything happened to him Niamh would probably sell for the price he told her he had paid for it.&nbsp; He didn't lie to her about anything important but....well sometimes a little while lie maybe. <br><br>When Séamus saw her car approaching he rose from the bench and raised a hand to wave her down. Suddenly he felt the most unusual mix of nerves and relief. In the back of his head he had feared he was worried he had the day wrong or she would cancel. Now that she was here he was relieved but at the same time...his fiancé was coming to see him in rehab. It was not something he had ever expected from his life, rehab and alcoholism was something you heard about, it was that weird guy up the road or something on TV. Always someone else. Sure enough there she was. The only reason he would make it out of this place alive. Maybe it was his nerves just being worn out but he found himself stealing a deep breath while she was pulling in. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;
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				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VioletPanda</strong> on <strong>11-05-2017, 11:12:45</strong>
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				&nbsp; Two cluster. Two. Hot damn. He didn't know something like that has ever happened before. He knew Angel had 'birthed' two other clusters, but that had been one at a time.<br>&nbsp; Being a New Yorker born and raised, the large buildings of Chicago were something of a comfort. A large city was still a large city...though that didn't make his job any easier.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Vince cracked his knuckles, looking out the window of his hotel room- it was coming down in sheets. Fuck. There was just something about being cold and wet that equated to absolute misery for Vince, to the extent his clustermates joked he was part cat.<br><br>&nbsp; At least he knew who he was looking for- he'd seen through Angelica's eyes. He'd seen their faces, in a flash. But in order to actually help them, he had to you know, go and physically see them and stuff.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;And explain they weren't crazy. While not coming off as a crazy fucker himself. Subtly was not his thing, not at all.<br>&nbsp;He looked out the window again. Fuck...<br><br>&nbsp; Getting her information wasn't as hard as he had thought- finding her bike was harder. After about an hour of walking around -in the rain!- he managed to find and match her plate to a bike outside of a bar near her apartment. It was easy for him to remember and check without being too obvious about it. He worked with cars for a living- holding six digits in his brain was easy as fuck. Probably the only easy thing about all this.<br><br>&nbsp; The bouncer was a beefy looking man, a biker from the look of it, maybe? <br>&nbsp; "Hey man," he nodded. "That your bike? Nice ride."<br>&nbsp; "Nah, not mine." he jerked his head towards the door.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Vince shrugged. <br>&nbsp; The big man stepped aside and Vince shouldered his way into the bar. He could see Cassandra sitting at the bar with a drink- that leather jacket would definitely cut down on that wind.<br><br>&nbsp; Was it just his weird relationship with his ex-wife, or was this kinda like a date, with him having to be all subtle and shit? He took a seat at the bar, leaving a seat between her and him and ordered a Three Wise Men.<br>&nbsp; While he waited, he looked over at Cassandra. Subtle. Think subtle thoughts.<br>&nbsp; "Hey, I saw your boots- that your bike outside? Nice ride. I see a lot of machines go through the shop, but we don't see too many bikes." he added, trying to make conversation. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FeveredDreams</strong> on <strong>11-05-2017, 21:04:09</strong>
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				She wasn’t used to being approached around these parts by strangers anymore.&nbsp; Most people around here seemed to want to drink in piece and just watch the game.&nbsp; By now the regulars knew she wasn’t some biker bitch,&nbsp; and they had stopped trying to force her into some sort of sexual situation.&nbsp; All it had took was a few broken pool cues and a few rounds bought.&nbsp; She was just one of the guys,&nbsp; which point in fact wasn’t completely pleasant to her,&nbsp; but she’d rather not be viewed as a victim.&nbsp; She didn’t turn right as Vince approached,&nbsp; instead she knocked back her shot and gestured to the glass once again with a finger.&nbsp; The woman than allowed herself to drain a good portion of her drink,&nbsp; a little bit of the liquid dribbled down on her chin.<br><br>With that the leather clad punk rotated in her chair to look the man over.&nbsp; Her amber colored eyes swept over him in an appraising faction.&nbsp; She gave a little snort before shaking her head from side to side.&nbsp; <strong>“Ya know,&nbsp; dats the closest I’ve gotten to hearing da nice boots wanna fuck line.”</strong>&nbsp; A hand moved to her chest,&nbsp; as she faked a swoon.&nbsp; <strong>“Ya totally got me all hot and bothered.”</strong><br><br>When the second shot was placed down onto the bar she downed it in one quick motion,&nbsp; giving the same quick gesture.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>“Listen Mister,&nbsp; I ain’t lookin’ fer a roll in the hay tonight.&nbsp; Jess looking to have a few drinks if yer fine with that take a seat,&nbsp; but ya ain’t tappin this ass tonight.”</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VioletPanda</strong> on <strong>12-05-2017, 01:20:34</strong>
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				&nbsp; &nbsp; Vince was not trying to hit on this woman, damn it. She was cute, but after the bullshit with his ex-wife, he wasn't about to start randomly hitting on chicks. He had Lillian.<br>&nbsp; "Ah, no. That's not what this is about." <br>&nbsp;What was he supposed to say? This had already started out on the wrong foot. He ran a hand through his short hair.<br>Man, why should he try to be something he wasn't? Fuck it. He leaned a little closer- not enough to make her uncomfortable, but enough for privacy.<br><br>"Okay, look. Real talk time. Last night you saw a woman in a white dress- stringy matted looking blonde hair. Pale. Blue eyes. I'm not sure where you were, but you saw her. And so did I. Same time last night- around what, 10pm, 11? And I'm pretty sure you didn't share that with anyone."<br><br>He paused a moment to let her remember, to let it sink in.&nbsp; <br><br>"We're connected, okay? We both saw the same thing. At the exact same time, and I was in New York until this afternoon."<br><br><br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FeveredDreams</strong> on <strong>12-05-2017, 02:59:58</strong>
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				She blinked her eyes.&nbsp; &nbsp; The vision did sound familiar but she quickly shook her head from side to side her short mop of black hair rustled against her hood.&nbsp; What the hell was this guy's end game?&nbsp; She suddenly burst out laughing.&nbsp; It was enough to bring the eyes of the bar towards the for a minute.<br><br><strong>“Ya know what,&nbsp; I did think bout a blue eyes blonde last night.&nbsp; Da thing is,&nbsp; I passed out watching some stupid sci-fi show with a girl name Tweaks.&nbsp; I can give ya a guess what da two of us was doing.</strong>”&nbsp; She said with a little a snort.&nbsp; <strong>“Also thought I met saw Vincent Price and he offered me a dance if I could get him to a party on time before he turned into a duck.”</strong>&nbsp; She smiled again.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>“An’ course we’re connected Mister man.”&nbsp; </strong>She took another shot.&nbsp; <strong>“Ya&nbsp; gave me this great big soulful look in mah eyes and now like I’mma gonna run off to your place and let ya give me the poundin of a life time.”</strong>&nbsp; She snort again before taking another&nbsp; shot and chasing it with her beer.&nbsp; <strong>"Ya know what though,&nbsp; I'll make it simple on ya...&nbsp; if we're all spooky connected what makes me different from all da other girls round here?"</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: One and Many- A Sense8 RP -IC-</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LordRod</strong> on <strong>16-05-2017, 19:25:09</strong>
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				Lisaa woke up.&nbsp; This was an accomplishment worthy of the day.<br><br>Lisaa rolled out of bed.&nbsp; This too was an accomplishment worthy of the day.&nbsp; <br><br>Lisaa fell first on the cold linolium floor and felt a stab of pain shoot down his neck.&nbsp; <br><br>Fuck.<br><br>This was not an accomplishment worthy of fuck.&nbsp; Berkole! Damn he hated this nonsense.&nbsp; Why had he not followed his first instinct and simply refused to work for the military after his mandatory conscription.&nbsp; They couldn't make him do anything.&nbsp; THEN.&nbsp; Now this CIA asshole was making it feel like they could make him do anything they wanted.&nbsp; He could only use classified lawyers, the kind that also worked for the government and he had given up a number of his rights.&nbsp; <br><br>It was the kind of thing that Lisaa might have believed that someone dumb enough to work for the CIA might be stuck in; not someone in Finland.&nbsp; He had done quite a bit of looking on the net, and he had gone, he was pretty sure, in the lexicon of spies from 'consultant' to 'asset' which meant that the rules were a lot more lose about what they could or couldn't do.&nbsp; Bottom line? Lisaa didn't care and he was very tempted to go to the media.<br><br>But the government in his country scared him.&nbsp; Sure, outwardly they weren't as crazy as the Americans, but moreover, his instincts screamed that this was dangerous.&nbsp; Very dangerous but his heart didn't care.&nbsp; These bastards had to pay! And he would make them pay.<br><br>He got up.&nbsp; That was an accomplishment worthy of the day.&nbsp; He got a bowl of cereal and put it in the microwave and stared at it until he realized there was no point to that, took it out and poured in the milk.<br><br>Not that bad.&nbsp; Discovery. <br><br>That was worthy of the day.
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