It has indeed been a pleasure roleplaying with all of you despite a lot of my extended absences. The truth is that I am very ill. I have been pretty mum on the details for good reason. I work two jobs and often can’t even feed myself or do simple tasks like buttoning my shirts. Jackson has been such a wonderful character and I love him very much but with this illness taking over my life, I can’t do everything I need to do and so I am having to leave this roleplay. I’ll still be around online and don’t mind talking to people. I’d like to give a shout to M and Jamie and everyone else who helped me develop Jackson.
I’m keeping his page up because there is a chance I may someday return if things begin to fall into place and the doctors can make me better.
My personal tumblr is daryldixonpizzaparty. Please follow me!
"I’m not a fan of the term property, so let’s not use that, okay? There are some masters here that don’t really care if a slave is claimed or not. They just don’t care". Bryce nodded and inhaled the smoked, "See…that’s not smart…Because us slaves aren’t truly obedient. The reason why we listen and follow the rules isn’t because we want to…it’s because if we don’t, we’re screwed. Don’t waste those feelings on us, Jackson. You’ll hurt yourself." He pat the master on the shoulder, "She keeps telling me she fucked up…so something tells me that she didn’t want out".
He shrugged his assent to agree to not use ‘property’ anymore. “I tried it, ya know. Bein’ submissive. Not like the sort of hierarchy here. I was in the human BDSM scene in Atlanta. I thought maybe I wanted the pain.” He smiled bitterly to himself. “That’s how I knew I could never be submissive.” Jackson changed his tune about his cigarettes and nicked it from Bryce’s mouth, taking a drag before sticking it between his lips. “Yeah, I don’t want to waste my time or feelins’.” He lit his cigarette and slumped down. “I asked her not to sleep with Masters. She did. I figured she didn’t want this tired old mess. She’s twenty. She needs to be twenty.”
She laughed softly at the idea of how many toasters and other various kitchen things he must have killed then, but quickly covered her mouth. “S-sorry. I was going to stick with simple.. stuff. You’re a guy.. you have to like fire… I am sure you are killer on a grill.” She shook her head and forced herself not to laugh anymore. “That is a good batch of things to be good at. Maybe we can just stick with those then..” She reached out and lightly patted his arms, “There are worse things to be sucky at than cooking..”
Oh, he was the sort of person to stick knives and forks in the toaster to get his bagels out even though he knew that he might be electrocuted. It was a tiny thrill until he could get on a motorcycle. Oh yeah, he was definitely a winner. “Man don’t equal grill baby girl. Although take me huntin’ and I’ll make you some of the best deer jerky you ever ate. Although I like my meat bloody. Comes with the territory I think. As long as I fuck okay, I think I should be good.”
She froze, waiting for the reaction she’d get, afraid of what he’d say. Would he beat her for having such feelings? Be disappointed in her for being weak enough to feel that? She felt too afraid to want the truth. She winced as he moved back, preparing for his yelling or his hands to grab her and shake some sense into her. She let her eyes drop down to her feet, standing in front of the bars. She looked up, finding him back against the bars once more, gripping them harshly. She knew her words were wrong. She shouldn’t feel that. Hell, she’d never felt it before, why now? She shook her head. “No. I love you. I have and I still do…”
It didn’t compute in his brain. If she loved him like she said she did, why did she run off with others? Maybe it wasn’t the sort of love he was thinking of. He had been in love many times. It was the primal need to claim sometimes, to mark something as his. It was the gentle weight of a newborn pup in his arms. It was the warm weight of a body at his side in bed at night. It was racing across the wilderness as a wolf, a she wolf close at his heels, the pain of shifting overshadowed by the joy of unbridled freedom. And so he asked: “Why? You were unhappy, always with others.” He leaned his arms on the bars, studying her.
“But the venomous ones are far more fun than anything else… you never know what to expect with them…" Roman couldn’t held from smiling at how small and cute the little dog was, and how much smaller she looked when placed inside the pocket. Roman returned the man’s strong grip and nodded "Pleasure…" he let go and pointed to the creature in his pocket, his finger lightly touching the dog’s head "and your little girl?! does she has a name?!”
“They can be, but some of us who are not bound wolves by birth have the unfortunate tie to human emotions. And they fuckin’ suck.” The man’s smell was taunting him now but Jackson kept a tight lid on his anger. He was supposed to be out enjoying himself and taking his mind off things. “Oh, this is Sadie. A Christmas present to my former slave. Keeping her safe with me since the cells are no place for puppies.”