Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Mar 18, 2011 16:24:13 GMT
It had been only a matter of time before the strike would come and after the simple but sharp backhand Tyler kept his head down instinctively for a few seconds with the warm copper taste sliding over his tongue. In a direct show of defiance as Lucy pleaded at his back he lifted his head with a deep draw of breath into his lungs. Farryn had been expecting it or hoping for it or perhaps was simply provoked by Lucy's protests and when the second strike came Tyler saw stars. The punch whipped his head to the side with such force that he felt the muscles in his neck pull sharply and pain flashed over his features, the taste of blood in his mouth becoming thicker and fuller.
Feeling Lucy's desperate clutches at his shoulders Tyler stepped forward and away, consciously putting himself closer to Farry and further from the friend he was hoping to protect. It was all in vain and yet that knowledge didn't stop him from pursuing the course of action; if he could spare Lucy a few minutes of pain then that was what he intended to do. With sharp discomfort pulsing through the side of his face Tyler held his head up again and stood before his Alpha with his shoulders squared in a challenging manner that he knew could easily cost him his life.
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Farryn
Alpha Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
To be endlessly cold within and dreaming I'm alive.
Posts: 46
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Post by Farryn on Mar 21, 2011 14:32:45 GMT
This was just too much fun. Farryn swayed on the spot, feral and excited. Adrenaline was flooding her brain, saliva filling her mouth at the prospect of this turning into a bloody little game. She rocked back a few paces and then gave a short yell before springing up into a fast, hard and precise roundhouse kick, her boot crunching against the side of Tyler's head and sending him staggering sideways. Farryn's dark eyes burned their cold blue as they flicked up to Lucy.
The blonde was wearing an expression of mixed panic and rage and it set the Alpha's skin alight with excitement, the tiny hairs on her arms standing on end. Something snapped behind those whiskey eyes of the younger female, something inside her buckled and she rushed forwards in a blur of liquid gold waves, air rippling through her hair as she swung a fist up and into the brunette's face, snarling all the way. It hit home with surprising force, Farryn didn't bother to block it on principle and felt her lip split as a penalty but her tongue flicked out to taste the blood that dribbled from the cut.
When she hit Lucy back it was with the force of a natural disaster; she grabbed the blonde's shirt and pulled her forwards, slamming her forehead into Lucy's nose, breaking it with a swift, harsh crack before lifting her boot, placing it against Lucy's middle and shoving her away hard enough to send the bloodied female reeling back across the room, right over the bed and out of sight. Lucy didn't get up and Farryn's attention went back to Tyler.
"You dumb motherfucker," she said darkly, chuckling like a smoker. "What do you think I'm gonna do with Lucy after I'm done with you? I'm gonna mangle her pretty face up, I'm gonna break her little bones and leave her for dead." She spat blood, enjoying the sound of her own voice as she stalked back and forth. "Last thing my Lucy needs is a knight in shiny fuckin' armour coming to her rescue. There's nothin' you can do to stop me. Not. A fuckin'. Thing." Another laugh. "But please, Martin. Try."
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Mar 21, 2011 16:03:15 GMT
Pain and anger were blurring together in a volatile cocktail inside Tyler's chest and mind and as he struggled to get his balance back after stumbling to the floor with the inside of his skull feeling as though it had fallen victim to a small explosion he felt the wolf within clawing to be free. He would stand just as little chance in his wolf form as he did as a human though he knew and that was what kept him from transforming and making matters even worse than they already were.
The challenge issued from Alpha to fighter was answered with a growl that was automatic and instinctual as he abandoned his efforts to rise fully to his feet, instead surging towards Farryn with a yell of his own, defiant and determined. There would be no defeating Farryn, not in any final and ultimate sense of the word at least, but he could try to defend Lucy, his one friend in the pack. She had told him to try and so he would try, every scrap of strength thrown into his tackle to bring her crashing down to the carpet and hopefully put them back on an even playing field, if in fact there had been such a thing to begin with.
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Farryn
Alpha Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
To be endlessly cold within and dreaming I'm alive.
Posts: 46
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Post by Farryn on Mar 21, 2011 16:43:14 GMT
Tyler still packed a fair punch at least. Farryn took the tackle with a whoosh of air from her lungs and a cackle of laughter from deep within, sharp around the edges where the rough growl of her wolf came through. She wasn't going to let him get the upper hand though and to prevent him from getting any hits in while she was pinned beneath him she wedged her forearm between his chest and hers and gripped his face in her palm, wriggling round into a wrestling pose by wrapping a leg up and over his shoulder, clamping his head between her thighs and squeezing. Her heels dug into his ribs and the back of his legs, pressing the breath out of him, taking her left arm and wresting his right into a tight hold that would have his elbow dislocated if he tried to move it too hard.
Behind the bed Lucy lay on her side in a twilight limbo; her head was ringing, blood coursed over her lips and chin and down her front, running across her cheeks as gravity dragged it down to the floorboards. She could see the blurred figures of Tyler and Farryn across the room through the legs of the bed but she couldn't move, her body was paralysed with pain and fear and all she could do was watch and try not to choke on her own blood.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Mar 22, 2011 0:30:40 GMT
Tyler knew he was fighting a losing battle. He had no chance against Farryn just as he had no chance against Lucian. The Alphas of the pack had been able to keep their power as long as they had for good reason after all and all Tyler was doing was delaying the inevitable. Lucy would still be targeted by Farryn after all was said and done and maybe that rendered what he was doing useless and utterly futile, a waste of time, effort and what little favour he had had left but Tyler had stood by and let the Alpha female play her games long enough. The challenge might have been a weak one but that didn't make it any less of a challenge in Tyler's book. He wanted Farryn to know he disagreed with her, he wanted her to know there were those within the pack who didn't approve of her bullying and childish games.
Struggling to breathe with sharp discomfort pulsing through his body from the awkward but effective hold Farryn had on him Tyler debated for an instant how to proceed. He recognised the hold she had on him, what it would do if he moved, but at the end of the day he wanted to fight her. Whatever happened he would be in pain by the end of the struggle and Farryn would make sure of that; he could spare himself a little pain but he had been a coward too long already. So he fought to move, gritting his teeth against what he knew would happen to his arm and feeling the joint strain beyond what it could handle as he bucked and tried to twist himself around and out of her hold, striking at her anywhere he could land a hit with his free arm while he kicked at the carpet and the bed to try and get some leverage. Through sheer force of will he kept all but a deep growled groan down when Farryn's hold on his elbow had the intended effect but pain still washed over his face in a visible wave; instead of submitting to it Tyler used it to keep fighting.
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Farryn
Alpha Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
To be endlessly cold within and dreaming I'm alive.
Posts: 46
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Post by Farryn on Aug 14, 2011 16:55:12 GMT
Tyler fought and Farryn decided to reward him with a dislocated elbow. Applying an extra pound or two of pressure caused the joint to give. It popped free and she released him, snarling as she pulled herself away and up to her feet in one fluid, dangerously graceful motion. Instead of letting him get up or recover she stamped her foot down on his chest. Something crunched. "Guess my baby didn't scar you deep enough, Martin. Maybe we should work on getting you some more scars to decorate you up all nice, huh? Think maybe it'll sink in a little better?" Farryn lifter her foot from his chest and kicked him in the face then gave him a swift follow-up to the ribs. "You pathetic bastard. You call yourself a wolf."
"Get-- off him--"
Farryn turned her head. Lucy was gripping the bed as if she were dangling over a monstrous precipice and letting go would mean a fall into oblivion; her fingers were white, blood smeared her face, her broken nose and her split lip seething red and angry. There were tears in her eyes but she dragged herself up higher. The Alpha female laughed.
"Oh, Lulu. Honey. Baby," she said, shakign her head. "Now's really not the time to find your stones."
Lucy growled wetly. "I said get the fuck OFF HIM!"
This time she didn't want for a response. Lucy just propelled herself over the bed and tackled Farryn, slamming them both into the wall with an almighty, floorboard-shaking crash.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Sept 18, 2011 23:11:11 GMT
Agony washed over everything, each breath felt like fire racing down to his lungs, setting his chest alight, and he could barely think to move, buckled on the carpet with blood in his mouth and his head spinning and his ears ringing. For all the aggression and animosity he attracted within the pack, it had been some time since anyone had hurt him like Farryn had tonight and Tyler felt sick to his stomach from the pain. His arm was useless, unresponsive and searing, he could barely breathe, darkness licked at his consciousness eagerly. It was the sounds angry screaming and a vicious collision with something hard and solid -- the wall? -- that kept him from slipping under.
Lucy was in trouble.
When he tried to get up from the ground, it was only moments before he collapsed again, agonised and awkward, a heap of trembling limbs and fierce and empty frustration. If he couldn't even rise to his feet, how could he help his friend? Farryn had made sure that he was useless, that he could do nothing to protect Lucy. His hatred for her flared and swelled, growing larger still, and he gave a shapeless, shallow shout of fear, anger, and desperation entwined. "Evie," he cried out, breathless and ragged, trying in vain to haul himself across the carpet, but the smallest motion had his chest burning again, so intensely that the pain blinded him and he was forced to lie still on the floor, crumpled and defeated.
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Lucy
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
It's the fear of the dark; it's growing inside of me.
Posts: 43
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Post by Lucy on Jan 18, 2013 22:55:30 GMT
While she heard Tyler's tattered cry of her name Lucy couldn't react to it, she didn't have time. Farryn was on top of her, her hands wrapped around Lucy's throat. It was a familiar sensation, much more familiar than any normal person should know. At least she knew how to break it, whisking her arms up through the space between Farryn's as fast and hard as she was able and following through with a messy, harsh smack to the Alpha's face with the heel of her tingling hand. It was just to get some air, she just needed to breathe for a second. Then Farryn was on her again, lifting her up by a fistful of golden curls and smashing her head back down into the floorboards. Lucy ground her teeth hard, biting her cheek and tasting blood filling her mouth. Whatever spark she had left in her, whatever there was left to throw back at Farryn in the face of her brutal regime of torture, mental and physical, she mustered it then. It was everything she had left and some part of her knew that once she had used it, once she had spent her last fistful of conviction there would be nothing in her ever again.
Lucy rose screaming, smashing her fist into Farryn's gut, grabbing her by the side of her head and hurling her sideways and into the floor. There wasn't an awful lot between them, in age or size, and while Lucy might not have been allowed to train for a long time whereas Farryn kept herself in the peak of physical health, she had something the Alpha female didn't have; someone to defend. Farryn gave a rough cough of surprise and pain, shocked by Lucy's action. They rolled a few times, jostling for dominance. Farryn won. She got to her knees. Dragged Lucy after her. Farryn tossed her backwards against Tyler's desk, a lamp clattered to the floor, books tumbled over one and another, scattering across the floor. To her credit Lucy tried to push forwards but Farryn snatched her throat out of the air and smashed her head against the surface once, twice, three times, until Lucy was limp and unresponsive, unable to fight or feel or know anything.
With Lucy left to collapsed into a bloody and broken heap on the floor Farryn turned her attention back to Tyler, looming over him.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Jan 18, 2013 23:16:35 GMT
Nausea had a hold of him, pulsing through him with each agonising wave, every beat of his heart setting the broken bones and bruised and bloodied flesh alight. His head was swimming, his body trembled under the onslaught of pain and shock, he felt heavy, weighed down by his own failure but at the same time there was an angry and passionate voice in the back of his head repeating one word over and over again: Move. He had to fight, had to get back to his feet and defy Farryn, stand up to her as they all should have done from the beginning, before things had gotten so rotten and awful. Before Lucy had become the bitch's personal punching bag.
It felt like his stomach would empty itself violently if he moved but he swallowed against the bitter pain and the wet coppery burn in the back of his throat as Farryn turned back to him, her shadow stretching over him, with the light from the lamp gone it was larger and darker, it felt like it would swallow him if he didn't move. Find his feet. Get off the floor. If it wasn't for the chest of drawers close by he never would have made it, his right arm was no use at all, it was his left that he used to heave himself up with ragged and wet-sounding gasps, blood streaming from his nose, his face pale as she stumbled and staggered to his feet. The drawers rattled and the objects on top clattered as they fell over. He turned his eyes on Farryn and saw Lucy's crumpled and unmoving form past the Alpha female.
Tyler found what little reserves of strength he had left and poured it all into one last assault, his responsive hand blindly fumbling over the scattered and toppled objects on top of the chest of drawers before bringing it round in a violent arc towards Farryn's head. Only when he was swinging it around and out did Tyler see what it was, he couldn't remember where he'd gotten the frame but he recognised the people in the picture. Lucy was smiling in the photograph, something he hadn't seen in a long, long time. It felt strangely fitting to attack Farryn with that picture, as futile as it was.
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Farryn
Alpha Werewolf
Lucian's Pack
To be endlessly cold within and dreaming I'm alive.
Posts: 46
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Post by Farryn on Jan 18, 2013 23:40:21 GMT
That photo frame connected partly because she wanted to and partly because she was too fucking angry to block it. It was all attack attack attack. Offensive. Aggressive. She whipped back to look at him, snatched his arm and taking the photoframe from him hand, holding his wrist tightly before she shoved him away. As she advanced the few paces she had put between them she looked at the photo and sneered. Farryn broke it in half, snapping the glass like it was peanut brittle. Without bothering to wrap the edges she took half of the splintered glass and slid it from the bent, twisted frame.
"You're a fucking waste of space and skin," she said to Tyler in a low, sick voice, the voice that she so very much liked to use to whisper cruelties into Lucy's ear. How weak her brother had been. How pathetic she was. How she couldn't even fight any more. "You're a waste of the wolf. I should gut you right here," she spat, advancing on him. "But Lucien," she clucked her tongue. "Lucien would be cross with me. So that's why, when you wake up and you're wondering why I didn't rip your useless innards out and string them up like party streamers, that's why you're still breathing." Farryn laughed at that, as if she'd told some spectacular joke. Then she was back, her eyes narrowing. "You can't save her, Tyler. Lucy. Is mine. Mine. I decide how much she suffers. You do not fucking interfere. It's not your fucking place. I decide when she dies." Her head twitched slightly as if an electric shock had vaulted through her. "And she'll die. One day, when I'm sick of her, I'll let you bury her out in the desert and I'll spit on the both of you."
Farryn drove the knife into him then and stepped back. She took the photo, tossing the frame away and tore it down the middle, letting the fragments fall to the floor. Then she kicked the end of the knife of glass to bury it deep and knock him down. As she stepped over him, she spat on him. "Stupid fucking puppy," she growled as she stalked out.
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Tyler
Pack Werewolf
Lucian's Pack: Fighter
I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.
Posts: 52
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Post by Tyler on Jan 19, 2013 0:09:00 GMT
He had known it was useless. Tyler had known going in that it would end worse for him than it would for Farryn, that whatever attack he launched during his last ditch attempt to defy her and defend his friend would end in her favour and not his. He had known that it would earn him further injury, if Farryn didn't just outright kill him. Even with that knowledge set as if in concrete in the back of his mind he'd swung that picture frame consciously, he'd known what he was doing. Provoking her, throwing fuel on the fire, pitting himself against her -- and in doing so, Lucian -- potentially for the rest of his life, however long -- or short -- it ended up being. At this point Tyler just didn't care, he had had enough of their bullying and their senseless cruelty. Their sadism.
Any satisfaction he might have felt at his blow landing, at least in part, was cut short by Farryn's immediate retaliation, the violent claim of the broken glass that she went on to drive forward and into him. Tyler felt it slide into him, cutting so easily through his flesh, the edge scraping the bottom of his ribcage as it went in. It robbed him of what little breath he had in his lungs, his whole body seized as if gripped in a vice, he couldn't see, couldn't hear, all he could feel was the pain. But then her voice cut through the agony and burned deep into him, every word heavy with an angry and possessive kind of spite that he had known of on some level but never felt like he did now as she snarled at him.
Whatever retort he might have been preparing in the back of his mind was immediately shattered by the kick that slammed him back and into the chest of drawers, he struck with enough force to send what little was left on top crashing to the floor and he was quick to follow. He landed on his back, one hand hovering where the glass had been protruding but it wasn't there anymore, it was in him, he didn't have the strength to tear it out again. Farryn had already stepped over him and out of the room as his arm dropped to the floor, consciousness failing fast as blood oozed out of the deep and ugly wound in his stomach. Tyler didn't have anything left to give, he'd poured everything he had into the fight, and with the metallic taste of copper in his mouth he surrendered to the darkness completely, welcoming the numbness that came with it.
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