there you go with hope again.

oo ghost Sat Jun 28, 2014 1:37 am

I MAY HAVE DONE A HORRIBLE JOB EDITING THIS.

lord it takes a lonely one to wish she had never dreamt at all.

Ghost was fairly adept when it came to making a career out of feeling helpless. But this was something entirely new – and for the first time, she really felt as though there was no way to fix it. Back in Jasper Valley her problems had one sensible answer: wait. Bide her time and then make her escape as soon as the opportunity rose. And maybe this issue could be solved with time – but the thought of keeping her distance for any amount of time was astoundingly painful for Ghost. She knew it probably made her unbelievably selfish, but the female couldn't quite bring herself to care. She needed to see him. Her thoughts kept drifting back to that morning – the crushing disappointment as she returned with breakfast to find the cabin empty. She had nosed the door open, calling out a muffled greeting, intensely proud of the rabbit she held in her teeth. Zane probably would have been able to catch something much better for breakfast – but he had still been sleeping when she left and she wanted to surprise him. To make him proud and if she could, make up for her lapse in judgment the night before.

Part of her had expected to see her friend settled in somewhere above their hideout, waiting for her. It was a silly part – something she was a little ashamed of. Who was she to be someone he waited around for, worried about when she wasn't there? She knew it was presumptuous, especially after a night like they had...but she couldn't help that part of her, couldn't fight back that silly hope. And then that hope died as she realized what happened. The upstairs was completely empty and there was no answer to her call. Afraid, yet still unwilling to believe, Ghost had padded down into the cave, their breakfast still clasped in her jaw. When she arrived at the bottom of the tunnel and found it completely empty, the dead animal dropped from her mouth and Ghost's stomach bottomed out. He was gone. Suddenly it was very difficult to breathe, and the room that had felt so safe to her suddenly felt as though it might kill her. She turned around slowly, desperate eyes seeking every nook and cranny as though she was just stupid and managed to miss over one hundred pounds of wolf in a corner. No such luck. A small whimper escaped her lips and Ghost began cursing herself. Should she have expected anything else after the way she behaved the night before? She was only surprised that he hadn't left sooner. She spent several minutes frozen where she stood, violently reprimanding herself. And then her gaze fell on the rabbit she'd hoped to share with him and everything appeared to go blank.

She could not remember much from the next week. She shut herself away, settling down in her bed beneath the window, leaving only when she was forced to. The entrance to the cave was something she couldn't bear to look at – and the female eventually managed to drag several chests and other bits of furniture in front of it. If there was another storm that followed the disaster from before, Ghost didn't notice. In any case, she did not seek further shelter. She didn't seek anyone or anything out. It was almost like being back in Jasper Valley again, tucked away and isolated in her cave....and yet, this was somehow so much worse. Back at the cave she only had the idea of missing out on the company of others. That sense of loss was nothing compared to the ache she had now. If it weren't for Dahmer, Ghost was positive she would have disappeared altogether. But her giant friend was patient and steadfast, never seeming to require an explanation of any kind. He didn't even expect her to talk, but instead spent hours keeping her company, knowing that she'd speak when she was ready. He seemed to know that the issue was with Zane and while Ghost knew that he was definitely curious (and certainly upset) about what happened, he was reserving judgment until he was privy to the entire story. She loved and appreciated him for that.

The night before, he had spent an hour or so in her company, sitting quietly in her chair. He had moved it closer to where she'd made her nest, but not close enough that it became obtrusive. He didn't speak and was almost entirely silent aside from the sound of pages being turned. Just before leaving, he rested a giant hand on her shoulder for a minute or so and she felt the comforting weight emanate through her. She knew he was telling her that he'd be there whenever she was ready to talk, and that it didn't matter how much time she needed to take. Ghost watched her friend disappear into the trees, a small smile pulling at her lips.
And now she stood on the same beaten path that would take her to the Dahmer and Sherlock's home. The female moved hesitantly and silently, afraid of being seen. Her fur was looking a little worse for wear, no longer possessing the healthy sheen she'd worked so hard to develop since leaving Jasper Valley. On one level, it was embarrassing – and yet on a closer one, she couldn't bring herself to care. Ghost's thoughts were elsewhere. The trip took longer than it normally would have, the skinny wolf taking the time to keep to the shadows. Eventually though, she made it without any incident... until she made it to their door. Peeking in the window, she could see that Dahmer wasn't in his usual spot by the fire. She would have immediately set off for home, but a sound from across the way caught her attention. It came from the lab Dahmer had made for Sherlock and Ghost hesitated a few moments before moving forward. She didn't want to disturb Sherlock in any way, especially if the black wolf was working in her lab. But if there was a chance Dahmer was in there as well, she'd risk Sherlock's disapproval.

She cut across the clearing quickly, slowing only when she made it to the laboratory’s door. It became obvious that Sherlock was the only one currently home, and Ghost pushed aside her chagrin long enough to offer up a single, wavering question. Sherlock. Hi. Is......is Dahmer anywhere around? It took everything she had for the meek wolf to keep herself from fleeing. Sherlock was never mean or obviously antagonistic towards Ghost, but the female had the distinct feeling that Dahmer's companion found her disappointing. It was something she felt guilty for believing....and yet at the same time, Ghost just couldn't bring herself to believe otherwise.

sherlock holmes Sun Sep 21, 2014 1:16 am

This… this is a special post.

It had been another sleepless night for the black female and instead of pestering Dahmer because of her restlessness, decided to be a bit productive and continue with her experiments. She had spent the first few hours of the early dark morning in the lab, conducting analyses of blood work that she had surreptitiously been taking from Dahmer and then conducted some other experiments by combining different chemicals together to see what would happen. It was days like this that Dahmer was probably thankful he’d built her a separate place to house her experiments, with all of the noise from the chemical explosions she’d been creating.

However, the moment the sun had risen and Sherlock heard the sound of the other creatures of the woods become active, she left the lab and, making sure that Dahmer was still in their cabin, went off in search of some squirrels with her latest concoction held in her hands. She had discovered a new sedative and was adding different ingredients to it to see what the reaction would be. She had started out small and was slowly making her way up towards larger animals, seeing if the size of the animal changed the way the drug behaved. She tried to keep this experiment on the down low and decided not to bring it to Dahmer’s attention until the moment was right. She’d just have to make him realize that it’s a good thing to have a special sedative on paw and know the side effects- besides, there was going to be a time when they’d need to use it!

After a frustrating two hours, Sherlock finally arrived back at her lab with her slightly sedated squirrel. Even though it was sedated, it was loudly voicing its displeasure and Sherlock had raced by the cabin and into her lab with a hope that Dahmer was finally awake and spending time with a broken hearted Ghost- she didn’t fancy a disapproving look he was sure to give her if she found out about this incident. Slamming the door shut, Sherlock placed the dazed squirrel in the makeshift cage and covered it with a sheet. The trip had not gone according to plan, most of the woodland creatures had avoided her like a plague- she had been lucky to return home with any creature today, and knew she’d have to go farther and in a different direction if she wanted a better selection.

She had let the squirrel go after the sedative had fully worn off and was just in the process of examining her latest blood slide under the microscope when she heard someone tentatively stop outside of the open lab door. Even before Ghost spoke, Sherlock knew who it was from the noise- the tread didn’t sound even remotely like Dahmer and he wouldn’t have been as cautious as Ghost was being. Eyes still glued to the blood of her recent test subject, Sherlock responded to Ghost, Dahmer? No, I’ve not seen him all morning.
Pulling her attention away from the slide, Sherlock rubbed her eyes before looking over at the lingering figure of Ghost. She paused slightly, taking in the dishevelled state of the ivory wolf. The state that Ghost was in made something jog in her memory, of Dahmer expressing concern over his friend- Sherlock recalled briefly that Dahmer had told her that Ghost seemed distraught, that he believed that something had happened between her and Zane. With Ghost standing right in front of her, Sherlock could admit she could see why Dahmer was concerned for her and didn’t like the idea of her being alone in her state. He’s bound to drop by at some point, he usually likes to make sure I’ve not burned down the lab or blown myself up. You can wait in here, if you’d like. Sherlock mused that Dahmer would be surprised but pleased with her attempt at hospitality- it had nothing to do with the bottle of makeshift of sedative that had once against caught Sherlock’s attention.

oo ghost Mon Sep 22, 2014 9:49 pm

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It didn't take long for Ghost to regret disturbing her best friend's partner. Sherlock didn't look displeased by any means, but the skinny white female's constitution never allowed for her to work well under circumstances like this. Hell, even if she was brave, at what point would she ever have been given the chance to practice with social interactions? She was at a complete loss – and little did she know, it was more or less the blind leading the blind. The only difference was a matter of agenda: Ghost needed Dahmer in order to find the light at the end of the tunnel she was lost in. And Sherlock....well, it would turn out that Sherlock had something entirely different in mind. But all that mattered was that right now in this very moment, she was being quite civil indeed and that was something Ghost appreciated. She needed that.

So when the formidable black female set her work aside for a moment in order to give Ghost her full attention, the smaller wolf felt a little bit of her anxiety slip away. Especially when she didn't immediately tell Ghost to fuck off – that was always a plus! She knew that Sherlock would never be outwardly cruel like that, but lately Ghost had been making a habit out of expecting the worst...more than usual. And that was saying something.
After answering Ghost's question, Sherlock fell silent for a moment or so, her grey eyes appraising the female before her. For some reason that Ghost couldn't quite put her paw on, this made her feel just a little uneasy. She wasn't sure why, but the way Sherlock was looking at her....it made Ghost feel as though she was an experiment or something. But that was just silly, wasn't it? This was Dahmer's mate. And Dahmer would never be with someone who would hurt another like that, would he? In any case, the scientist's next words were kind enough that Ghost felt comfortable accepting her offer. Thanks, Sherlock. I'd really appreciate that.

What else was she going to do? Go back to her cottage and hang out with her blanket and million other friends? Sure, Zane was probably there waiting for her with open arms and an explanation for everything that would make everything super amazing and magically perfect again! Also, she wasn't bedraggled and skinny and pathetic, she was sleek and beautiful – someone Zane would never want to be without. He was probably kicking himself right now for ditching her that day! Ghost's ears drooped as this internal monologue ran through her mind, her eyes becoming over bright for just a moment. She managed to reign it in just in time (something told her that Sherlock would NOT tolerate cry babies). She shook her head defiantly, determined not to allow for the bad thoughts to take over. It wasn't fair of her to blame Zane, even if anger was easier than the depression. But Ghost knew it was her fault – and for now she just needed to find a way to handle that until Dahmer could help her come up with a way to make things right. They would be able to make things okay again, right? Her time away from Zane was agonizing....and if it was something permanent – well, Ghost didn't know what she'd do.

The female forced her thoughts into the present, well aware of the horrified expression on her face. She offered Sherlock an embarrassed and apologetic smile before finally moving across the threshold of the laboratory's entrance. Pale blue eyes gazed around with genuine interest, her mind finally torn from the previous week's torment. The tables were obviously designed for a shifted wolf, and Ghost wasn't capable of shifting entirely yet. She had managed to get all the way to her halfling form before being forced to give up due to exhaustion. Besides...it had been something she and Zane were working on together. So the tables and surfaces were all set fairly high, but the white wolf was able to see decently if she craned her neck high enough.

She tried to peek at what Sherlock had been focused on, her eyes bright with curiosity. For the first time in a long while, the wolf was thinking of someone other than Zane – something she didn't think was possible. But whatever it was that Sherlock was working on, it looked neat. Ghost drew as close as she could without crowding Dahmer's partner, afraid to cross any kind of unspoken line. The scent of squirrel's blood mingled with other smells, sharp scents she'd never experienced before. They had a sharp and medicinal smell, but for some reason she didn't think they came from any sort of plants from around her. And was that... Dahmer's blood as well? What the heck was Sherlock doing? Ghost knew that the black wolf was brilliant when it came to this kind of stuff – Dahmer had told her about many of Sherlock's previous experiments and triumphs. They all sounded amazing and fairly unbelievable. What if there was a chance she could be in on one of them?! It was highly unlikely, she knew that. But Sherlock had invited her in here instead of sending her home to wait for Dahmer there. She probably wouldn't let Ghost help, but maybe she'd be willing to explain things as she went along? That would be almost as good – witnessing the magic was the next best thing!

It took Ghost way too long to gather the courage in order to speak, but eventually the words found their way into the air. Hey, Sherlock? What are you working on? At this point, Sherlock could be conducting experiments to determine whether or not rocks were hard – she'd take anything in the form of a distraction.

sherlock holmes Sun Oct 05, 2014 4:14 pm

The moment Sherlock’s eyes landed on the bottle of sedative she had been tweaking, a plan began to formulate in her head. It’s not something she did on purpose, but once an idea popped into her head it was incredibly hard to stop from putting it into motion – it was like an itch, she had to scratch it before it went away. She knew that Dahmer didn’t always approve of her plans when it came to her experiments and she tried to cater them to what she thought he would approve of. Since being in the company of Dahmer for so long, it was hard not to occasionally think about what he would say in a certain situation – it would sound like him, say things he would say, but it didn’t always mean that Sherlock would listen to it… like right now. At the moment that tiny voice was telling her that they didn’t use their friends in experiments, but Sherlock’s need for empirical data was so much stronger (as it generally was). Needless to say, having a ‘willing’ test subject for her sedative was too good an opportunity to pass up.

While she waited for the perfect opportunity for her to test the sedative, Sherlock took the time to look at Ghost and her appearance. The small female’s fur was no longer the lustrous white it had begun to take on, but was starting to get disheveled and grey. Words began speaking to Sherlock as she began to deduce the cause- isolated, depressed, worried, lack of caring. If Sherlock didn’t know any better, she’d assume (and she so hated that word) that there was trouble between herself and Zane. A few months ago Sherlock would have found that mundane and so simplistic that she would have erased the issue from her mind, but after starting her relationship with Dahmer, she had a softer side starting to emerge and she found herself somewhat curious.

She watched Ghost wander about the lab, looking at all of her equipment but never really getting too close to any of it. It was different, having someone else in her lab, taking an interest in it. Of course, it wasn’t the same rapt interest that she herself gave it, but a sort of first time curiosity that she remembered Dahmer having once. He was still fascinated with what she could do in this room, but she secretly missed the first few times she showed him what she could do. That old saying was true, that there was a frailty with genius- it needed an audience.

A small smile graced the dark female’s lips briefly as Ghost asked about what she was working on. She turned in her chair and faced her microscope, peering into the eyepiece and gazing at Dahmer’s blood again momentarily. I’ve got a few things on the go, mostly just a lot of blood samples right now. You can learn a lot from blood and I’ve been just comparing different kinds.
Sherlock leaned back in her chair again, glancing briefly at the bottle and then back to her guest. Here, why don’t you take a look? Just take a look in the eye piece, the slide is already in place. She slid off her chair and let Ghost position herself in it and busy herself with the blood slide. Sherlock grabbed the bottle of sedative and a syringe and walked over to a glass of water she had poured herself hours ago and had been too absorbed to drink. Insuring that Ghost was preoccupied with the microscope, she calculated how much she could safely give Ghost without her having a bad reaction and placed the liquid in the water, giving it a little stir.

Feeling the anticipation of another experiment underway, Sherlock placed the glass of water right next to the microscope. Here, have a glass of water. It might taste a little funny because it’s been sitting out on the counter for a few hours.

oo ghost Sat Oct 11, 2014 11:10 pm

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A part of Ghost felt guilty for assuming Sherlock would shirk off any questions she might be brave enough to voice. She wasn't sure why, but the shabby female just assumed her interest was an unwelcome intrusion on the scientist's routine. Sherlock had never said anything out loud before – she never had to. Sometimes a particular look or shrug of the shoulder said more than any phrase could. And Sherlock definitely had given Ghost plenty of looks. A lot of them were probably subconsciously made, too – minute reactions to comments and actions that others made without thinking. She wasn't patient and a lot of what others did just didn't make sense to her – a lot of stuff was just frivolous, pointless and Ghost figured that she was immediately placed into that category the moment the two of them met. She was certain that the only reason Sherlock gave her the time of day at all was because of Dahmer – Ghost meant a lot to him and so Sherlock made an effort on his behalf.

With these thoughts on her mind, Ghost was surprised when Sherlock not only answered her question, but also seemed pleased with her interest! She responded to the skinny halfling's query with unexpected enthusiasm, offering a rare smile that Ghost had never experienced before. She'd seen a few, always directed at Dahmer and usually when the black female believed it was least likely to be noticed by others. So she never believed she'd be on the receiving end of one herself. For someone with so few approving figures in her life, it was like giving water to a plant in a desert. For a moment, Ghost positively glowed under her elder's positive regard. Her own smile became less uncertain, the nervous quirk of her brow smoothing into something resembling confidence. And when Sherlock actually offered to let Ghost use her lab equipment to take a look herself – well! That was something else! For a second, Ghost didn't know what to do. Her mouth popped open in an 'o' of surprise, blue eyes wide and incredulous. It was probably insulting, in a way... but really, with how Sherlock normally acted...what else was she supposed to expect?!

Ghost managed to pull herself together, though. Her mouth snapped shut and she nodded, attempting to appear as calm as possible. On the inside she was close to panicking. She was well aware of how poised Sherlock was at all times. She moved with an unconscious grace in all forms, but in her lab and on two feet – it was something entirely different, almost a dance. It was as though she and her equipment had been practicing their routine for years and years until they managed perfect synchronicity. She moved with no hesitation whatsoever, her motions confident and methodical, a clear result of expertise. With anyone else, Ghost would picture them taking time to perfect their routine, stumbling and faltering at first – but with Sherlock, she assumed the black wolf got it perfect the very first time. Absolute perfection. That's what this lab was accustomed to. The structure itself was created and built by an expert, every board and nail professionally placed. And all the work that was carried on inside was held to the very same standards, if not higher.... until now. What if she managed to screw everything up? She knew it was entirely possible. Ghost wasn't great at much of anything, but if the last few weeks taught her anything, it was that she sure was good at destroying things. And while she had improved a decent amount with handling things since her very first time shifting, Ghost sincerely doubted it was enough to warrant permission to use Sherlock's equipment!
There was only a moment or so of hesitation before Ghost gathered herself and moved toward the lab table. A fear of disappointing her new friend pushed her forward more than anything, overcoming any worry she might have of setting the lab on fire. She took a deep breath, stealing a glance at Sherlock to make sure everything really was okay. The other female barely seemed to be watching, it looked as though her attention was elsewhere. If she wasn't watching her like a hawk, that must have meant she really wasn't that worried about anything being broken! Feeling a little more confident, Ghost positioned herself awkwardly in the scientist's chair. She spared one more glance Sherlock's way before pulling close to the desk and focusing her attention entirely on the task at hand. It took her several minutes to figure out how to look into the microscope, but as soon as she had the basics down, Ghost was entirely transfixed. She had no idea what anything was called, or how to explain what it was she was seeing, but it was amazing anyway. She became deeply immersed for several minutes, emerging from her reverie only when Sherlock's voice sounded again. The female lifted her head and blinked several times, taking a few seconds to completely understand what it was Sherlock was saying.

Water. She was offering water. Well, that was nice of her! And Ghost really was thirsty. Worrying took a lot out of her. Dahmer probably wouldn't be back for a while, and she really didn't want to go home to wait for him alone. If Sherlock was willing to keep her around for any amount of time, Ghost was glad to stay. She offered a grateful smile and gingerly took the glass of water, concentrating not to spill anything or drop the thing. The halfling had a long way to go when it came to grasping and holding objects, especially in this form. She knew it would be a lot easier to do once she was fully shifted, but that was an obstacle she wasn't prepared to overcome just yet. It was something she and Zane were working on...and as wonderful and helpful Dahmer and Sherlock were being, her heart just wasn't in it. This form was fine for now – just as long as she wasn't asked to do anything more difficult than this right here.
She managed to bring the glass to her mouth without any incident, taking a long drink that drained half the glass in one go. She winced slightly at its bitter taste, but assumed that Sherlock was right. After all, this was her first drink from a glass. Ghost was used to drinking from lakes and running creeks or rivers. Maybe stagnant water had a specific taste – she hadn't gotten into the habit of storing water like Sherlock and Dahmer did. She never had to, anyway. Her house was a two minute walk from lake. Besides, she didn't exactly conduct any experiments that would require being rinsed off afterward. Not wanting to be rude, she finished the rest of the glass. It was good, thank you. She set the empty glass down and found herself drawn towards the microscope again. Ghost took a few more looks into the eye piece, occupying herself for a while longer. This is amazing.

She pushed away from the table, standing. Maybe she jumped to her feet too quickly or something, but Ghost found herself fairly unsteady on her feet. She stumbled slightly, grabbing hold of the chair to regain her balance. Clearly she wasn't as practiced in this form as she had thought! The shabby female managed an embarrassed, wobbly grin. She blinked several more time, running a hand over her face. Was she going crazy, or was Sherlock's lab suddenly looking very out of focus and blurry? Ghost shook her head, stumbling forward suddenly. She caught herself on all fours before face planting in a rather spectacular fashion, but couldn't seem to get it together enough to bring herself back on two legs again. It would have been a problem, but now the wolf was focused entirely on a new problem: My tongue....feels numb...and fuzzy too. Is that....izzat weird? Or jus' me? Maybe jus' me. I dunno. She crawled forward a few steps before he legs gave out once again, gangly back legs sprawling helplessly and knocking over the chair that had been her savior moments before. Ooooooh, nooo. Something's defernitely wrong. Defernitinitely. Definitely. Sherlock? Shhhherrlloooccckk? I need help.

sherlock holmes Wed Oct 15, 2014 9:36 pm

When it took a few seconds for Ghost to focus on the glass of water that Sherlock was offering, the dark female couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. She remembered the first time she had discovered a microscope – one that actually worked – and remembered that she had been completely immersed for days, hardly eating or drinking unless Dahmer forced them on her. She had put anything she could get her paws on under the microscope, discovering what worked better and showed the most detail.

The moment Ghost clumsily touched the glass of water to her mouth, Sherlock had to stop herself from allowing the victorious smile to spread to her lips, instead turning it into what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She hadn’t been certain if Ghost would accept the random glass of water but she had banked on her guest being too polite to refuse the offer of a beverage and had clearly inferred correctly. The moment Ghost drained the glass and set it down on the work bench, Sherlock kept her eyes on her subject, waiting to witness any sign that the drug was taking effect. She had a rough idea of when she would begin to see signs but she could only judge it from the results on the much smaller animals and then the one attempt she had tried testing it on herself- she didn’t remember much from that day, except waking up groggily when Dahmer entered her lab and laughed at her for falling asleep in her lab again.

She was so intent on watching Ghost’s every movement, Sherlock nearly missed the comment about the microscope and blinked slightly and nodded, answering with a slightly distracted reply, Yes, it is. I often just lose myself in whatever I put under the scope. It’s completely fascinating. The moment Ghost went to stand up, Sherlock knew that the drug was taking hold and seemingly at a slightly alarming rate. She glanced at the bottle and wondered if she had misjudged on the amount that she gave Ghost. Ghost was quite a bit smaller than Sherlock and even though Sherlock had taken that into consideration, perhaps she hadn’t cut back enough on the amount.
From the moment Ghost stood up, Sherlock began making notes on the outward effects that Ghost was displaying (in her mind of course) and missed her chance of steadying Ghost as she stumbled to her paws and ended up with a spectacular face plant. Before she could do much more than inhale a breath, Ghost attempted to stand up but merely managed to knock the lab chair over. More alert this time, Sherlock lunged for the chair before it could land on Ghost’s back feet and righted it, then moved it a few feet away from Ghost. Kneeling in front of Ghost, Sherlock placed a steadying paw on the white wolf’s shoulder and leaned in close to her face, both making sure that her face was okay and to check how dilated her pupils were, making another quick note with her observations. You’re okay, it was just the water. Here, we’ll get you situated on the cot.

Helping Ghost up took some maneuvering but eventually the dark female got her up on her feet. In an awkward shuffling of feet where Sherlock more or less had to drag Ghost, she finally got her over to the cot that Dahmer had brought in after finding Sherlock passed out in her lab chair on more than one occasion. Depositing Ghost gently on the cot and insuring that she wasn’t going to topple forward, Sherlock sat on the floor cross-legged and gazed at Ghost, elbows perched on her knees and paws together and under her chin. So, thick and fuzzy tongue, dizziness, instability. Anything else? She was hoping that Ghost could give her an interesting insight of the usage of a sedative and saw nothing wrong with asking her those questions, even though, at the back of her mind palace she barely heard Dahmer’s voice telling her that maybe this was a bit not good.

oo ghost Sun Dec 07, 2014 1:08 am

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Due to its suddenly fuzzy and confused state, Ghost's brain was filtering information a lot slower than usual. However, it was managing to work things out. It took a while, but eventually several things became very clear to the female. Well, as clear as they could in her current position. First of all, that wasn't stale water – it hadn't tasted off as a result of sitting out for too long. She had been drugged, and it definitely wasn't a mistake. Sherlock didn't somehow manage to offer her the wrong glass, it was planned from the beginning! Ghost's pale blue eyes struggled to stay open, focusing blearily on the scientist. She was trusting and could have easily believed that maybe Sherlock had the glass set aside for some other experiment and gave it to her in error – but the keen way Sherlock was observing her told the groggy wolf everything she needed to know: this was entirely deliberate.

She allowed herself to be maneuvered on to the couch with some difficulty, collapsing against the cushions in a heap. It was difficult for her to focus on Sherlock's form, but the poor female made a valiant attempt anyway, her limbs flailing in an extremely pathetic manner. She wanted to level Sherlock with an intensely disapproving glare in order to display her disappointment, but lacked the mental faculties. Besides, even if she did manage it, Ghost was fairly certain Sherlock wouldn't care either way. From the researcher's point of view, there simply was no moral ambiguity in this situation. Collecting her data was all that mattered – Sherlock was leaning forward in her chair, watching her partner's friend intently, an inquisitive spark in her eyes. Ghost was completely helpless and had no outlet for the sudden and intense feeling of injustice she was experiencing. She had to settle with an uneven glare that made her look completely spaced out, and several disapproving growls of frustration. Ghost flopped on the couch dramatically, making a big show out of turning her back on Sherlock. This may have been intentional, but most likely due to the fact that the skinny female had no control over her arms and legs. She hoped the message was clear either way.

But just in case it wasn't, Ghost decided to answer Sherlock's question about side effects. Her voice was haughty and petulant. Yeah, dizziness and ins....instability. But most of all, A GIANT FEELING OF HORRIBLE BETRAYEL. She waved her arms about angrily, managing control of one long enough to point at her drug dealer accusingly. She was normally easy going – willing to help out in any situation her aid might be requested. Hell, if Sherlock had just asked Ghost to take the drugs for her, she probably would have agreed enthusiastically. Anything to help! But with everything going on in her life, this was an entirely different story. She was already feeling like shit thanks to the whole Zane debacle. And feeling crappy about that also reminded her about feeling crappy back in Jasper Valley. And that was a lot of crappy feelings. And then to be completely blindsided with something like this? It was just too much!

You're all just...betrayal...ers. All of you! Making me feel bad and stupid. You big betrayer, you. Her words were slurred and unsteady, but possessed a kind of conviction that drove each word home. Ghost flopped around on the couch, attempting to turn over once again. She managed to face Sherlock once again, half slipping off the couch once or twice. The female struggled to level her gaze on Sherlock's, continuing to voice her bitter words. You know who ELSE betrayed me? Zane! He just took off. Didn'....didn't say anythin' at all, jus' left. No words. Big 'ol blindside. Y'know what that is, don't you? I bet youuuu blindside others all the time. You an' Zane. Good partners, there. I bet. Her voice steadily lost its volume, becoming quiet and anguished. She finally managed to keep eye contact with Sherlock, pale eyes full of pain. Jus' left without a word. Who does that? She would have loved to be able to answer her own question easily – to be able to say that no one did that, except complete jerks. But her mind was telling her something else. It took all her concentration to ask the next part, but she needed to know for sure. Is.....is it me? Is all of this my fault? If she looked pathetic before, this was an entirely different level. The look on Ghost's face plainly showed what she was thinking: that she deserved all of this entirely. Considering the treatment she'd received all her life, she really couldn't blame Zane. Or Sherlock, for that matter.

sherlock holmes Sun Mar 22, 2015 6:17 pm

THIS IS NOT EDITED BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO GET IT AND I'M RUNNING OUT OF TIIMMMEEEE

Once both females were finally settled (Ghost somewhat clumsily so), Sherlock couldn’t help but feel a little bit...guilty over the situation. She frowned slightly at the feeling, not accustomed to feeling that way and she suspected this feeling had something to do with a certain large wolf that she had grown to love. Before she had finally clued in to her feelings of the large male, Sherlock would have been able to do this type of experiment to any one in Jasper Valley and not feel the slightest bit guilty for it (although, some of them would have deserved it, Sherlock mused). But no, now that it seemed the box that she had allowed herself to properly love Dahmer, the box that she had created to help box up most of her emotions seemed to have broken and was impossible to contain any longer. It wasn’t all of the time but they seemed to come unexpectedly and when they did it was most inconvenient. Well, there was no use in worrying about it now, what was done was done- Sherlock would just have to make the best of it and keep an extra close eye upon her... friend (would their relationship be considered friendish? Sherlock would have to remember to ask Dahmer about that).

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been preoccupied with the unusual feeling of guilt that seemed to be sitting heavily in her stomach (which Sherlock knew was completely illogical, emotions weren’t physical objects) but before she knew it, Ghost’s voice was filling the room and she locked eyes with the unexpectedly feisty wolf. She spoke of betrayal, and Sherlock frowned slightly, finding her ears pinning back in disapproval- she hadn’t thought that her decision to use Ghost in her experiment was exactly an act of betrayal, perhaps it would have been seen as taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable time but not betrayal. Sherlock may be seen as many things, but she liked to pride herself in not betraying someone, especially a friend (or an acquaintance, depending on how one viewed their relationship). Considering the level of distress that Ghost had been in the last few weeks, Sherlock had a feeling that the alabaster wolf was just combining her feelings and finally letting her inner thoughts take voice.

Sherlock watched Ghost struggle and flop around on the couch and couldn’t help but slightly huff with slight amusement as she got off her chair and helped right Ghost, making sure she didn’t end up falling on the ground. All amusement left when Ghost carried on and finally let her deep feelings known, talking about how Zane had betrayed her. How he had up and left her without saying anything and Sherlock found that her heart ached with sympathy because she knew what that felt like, to have someone you cared about just up and leave. It had been a while since she had last thought about how Dahmer had up and left just the year before, to try to escape both his emotions and Sherlock herself. While those events were buried and locked away within her mind, Sherlock could feel them twitching for attention.

Not wanting to dwell on those past events, Sherlock pushed them further down and looked back at Ghost, hearing her heartbreaking question and seeing the look on her face that looked as if she believed she deserved to be left alone forever. Leaning forward in her chair, Sherlock made sure to catch Ghost’s eye, holding it there for a few seconds before speaking her mind. No, Ghost, I don’t believe the fault lies on you. And I don’t think Zane would purposely leave without saying anything to you. I see the way he looks at you, like if he looks away or blinks, you’ll just disappear. She paused a moment, trying to decide whether or not to devolve her own fears. With a very small nod, almost for her own benefit, she continued on. I see that very look when I look at Dahmer, like he’s waiting for me to suddenly decide that he’s not good enough, which is utterly stupid. If anyone is leaving our relationship it’ll be him, because I’m no good at these things and I am terrified that one day he’ll realize he’s better off without me. A look of slight surprise crossed Sherlock’s face, surprised she had told Ghost of her own fears. Now if you breathe a word of that to anyone it won’t be good, heaven forbid Dahmer thinks I’m starting to get too sentimental. Of course, chances of you remembering this whole event is miniscule because I sure as hell didn’t remember a whole lot of what happened when I took the sedative last week.

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