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Heart to Heart; Closed, But Please Read!
Topic Started: Apr 3 2013, 08:59 PM (236 Views)
Wolfsbane
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Wolf Form
Timeframe: March 25th, @ 7 pm

JP w/ Moira McTaggert and...

You can grow up. You can get older, you can live an adult life, you can get married and you can settle down. You can find the love of your life and more friends than you ever thought possible.

And even with all of that, when life kicks you hard, you'll still need your mother. That was what Rahne Russell found time and again, at her lowest points. Once, she had been forcefully possessed by her brother via adoption Kevin, calling himself Proteus - violated at the very core of her mind and soul - she spoke to her mother for hours. Later, she had been forcefully converted and supplanted by an alien parasite, replacing her mind with its own and transforming her body into a hideous, insect-like monster. The moment she had been able to, she spent hours speaking with her mother.

Now, the circumstances were different. It wasn't her mind and body that had been violated, it was her home, her place of security and sanctuary. But this was not like the Purifiers. The intruder did not invade with fire and bullets and sanctimony. The intruder came like a thief in the night and robbed her Xavier's family of one of the most precious resources it ever had. The circumstances were different, but the reaction remained the same.

"Ye cannae blame yuirself for Scott's death, Rahne," Moira McTaggert said to her lupine daughter as the two walked the streets of Mutant Town together.

"Why not? I failed. When he needed me most, I failed an' he died," Rahne growled. Like always in Mutant Town, she wore her fur on her skin. But it wasn't for the usual reasons. Usually, it was a mutant pride display. Solidarity with those who lived here. Tonight - tonight she was just too emotionally high-strung to not be transformed.

"If that's so, then so did everyone else," Moira frowned. "Ye're no more to blame than-"

"But I'm the one who could have sensed something! Heard something! Smelled an intruder! I should have -"

"Rahne, stop," Moira said with a bit more force than usual. "Ye're bein' too bloody hard on yuirself an' ye damn well know it. There was nothing ye could have done. Nothin' at all."

Rahne sighed, and cast her gaze aside.

"An' maybe that's the problem," she said with a slow shake of her head. "Maybe that's what's truly wrong. When it comes down to the wire, when it matters the most... I'm powerless."

"Rahne!"

"'Tis true. I could nae save Amara. Could nae even find her. Failure. Could nae keep Ororo or Roberto safe in London. Could nae even make a dent in that villain's mental armor. Failure. Further back. Could nae save Sarah from that... thing. Could nae even save muhself. Failure. From Kevin. Failure. Fr-"

"Rahne, would you get yuir fuzzy arse off of this bloody self-pity train already? I am quite frankly sick of it," Moira scolded through narrowed eyes and a keenly pointed finger.

"What?" Rahne's eyes went wide, shocked at Moira's outburst.

"This! What is this? This is not the young woman I raised. This is not - no. Rahne, ye're better than this. So ye cannae win them all. Guess what? That's life, Rahne. Do we let ourselves wallow in misery when life kicks us in the breadbasket? Or do we brush ourselves off, get back up, and keep goin' ahead in spite of it? Ye're not goin' to fall down this path, ye hear me? Ye're gonna quit feelin' bloody sorry f'r yuirself an' keep doin' what it is that you do best!"

Rahne sighed, shaking her head slowly.
"Mum, I-" and then she stopped, dead in her tracks, holding her arm out to stop Moira as well. The fur on the back of her neck stood on end. A low growl rumbled in her throat.

"That was sweet, really that was. I do love a good heart ta heart," a rumbling, snarl of a voice emerged from the shadows of an alley to their left. Shortly after, a body followed that voice. Massive, heavily muscled. His stance, his gait, the very sound of his breath exuded predatory confidence.

"Sabretooth," Wolfsbane growled, eyes narrowed, fangs bared.
Posted Image

[size0]Say the dog and butterfly,
in the air they like to fly.
Dog and butterfly.
She knew she had to try,
and she float back down to the warm soft ground,
laughing - she don't know why,
but she had to try, she had to try.
Dog and Buttefly.


Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much!
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Sabretooth
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Adamantium Skeleton, Claws / Feral traits, Regeneration
"Aw, you recognize me," Sabretooth sneered, the tone of his voice mocking and cruel even if the words weren't. He was one of those special people who could easily make the most sweethearted, genuine phrases seem like harsh mockeries of everything decent.

"I recognize you, too. I know all a' you X-Punks. You might even say I'm yer most ardent follower," he stepped forward, and as he did, Wolfsbane stepped back, nudging Moira along with her.

"Mum," Wolfsbane whispered. "Run."

"Oh, yes, run. I like that. Run to the nearest phone booth! Change into Supermom an' come flyin' to the rescue-"

"Shut up," Wolfsbane found herself snarling before she realized she had. Her hands were curled in, claws ready to strike.

"Oooh, puppy's got guts. This is gonna be fun. It's always more satisfying spilling X-Guts than any-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Wolfsbane roared. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her left eyelid twitched. The fur along her spine stood as much on end as her clothes allowed. She supposed she should have felt fear, should have felt terror, but it wasn't happening. She felt pure, unadulterated rage, burning her insides, frothing in her mouth.

"Heh-" Sabretooth started to chuckle. This was definitely amusing.

"I have had it with you an' everybody like you! Ye think ye've got free license to walk all over whoever ye want to, to take what ye want, hurt who ye want, get yuir hands all good an' bloody an' for what?! FOR WHAT?!"

"Rahne-" Moira protested quietly, meekly. This was a side of the young lycanthrope that rarely boiled to the surface. Rahne Russell had always been a woman of great passion, great feeling. She loved truly. She mourned deeply. She feared with all of her heart. But when she was angry... well, perhaps nobody had ever seen her this angry.

"No! You people keep walkin' all over us an' we keep lettin' it happen! Allowin' you monstrosities to hurt us however ye like an' then just mendin' our wounds an' waiting until ye do it again!"

Sabretooth looked confused for a moment. His eyes narrowed, his mouth hung open slightly and his head tilted to the left. This wasn't what he'd expected. This wasn't how he knew for sure that this particular X-Man was going to react. Something was-

"Well I say no more!" almost faster than the blink of an eye, the wolf woman was upon him, the claws of her right hand raking deep and hard across his face, sending bright red gashes, nasty, jagged and ugly across his maw.
Posted Image

If ya want blood - you got it.
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Moira McTaggert
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Moira McTaggert couldn't help but stare wide-eyed, a mixed sense of awe and horror on her face as the werewolf she had adopted as her daughter, the young woman she knew to be a kind, gentle, forgiving soul ripped into the monstrous villain known as Sabretooth with brutal savagery and reckless abandon. She took a single step back, wincing slightly at the roar of agony that emitted from the gargantuan beast-man's mouth as Wolfsbane sunk her fangs deep into the right bicep of their would-be assailant.

"You mangy little -" Sabretooth snarled, almost too stunned at what he was seeing to react at the moment. Blood poured from the puncture wounds the werewolf's keenly sharp teeth had produced, and she was not letting go.

"GET OFF!" he roared, and swung his arm in a wide arc and a wet tearing sound, sending forth a wide spray of crimson as the young werewolf went flying.

"You have got to be kiddin' me..." he muttered in astonishment as he stared at the arm. The bicep that was there, that Wolfsbane had bitten into... was gone, leaving a huge, gaping red hole in the arm that now hung limply from the elbow on down.

Moira glanced down to the savage beast that was her daughter, who had landed low, on all fours, spitting the sizeable chunk of meat out onto the pavement before snarling at her opponent, her teeth red with his blood. She didn't know what to feel. Horror? Pity? Relief? As much as she hated to see Rahne driven to such rage and mindless animalistic fury, it was possible that this was the only thing keeping Sabretooth at bay at this particular moment.

"You... little..." Creed snarled, eyes wide with growing rage. There were no taunts any more. No sneering remarks. No cutting verbal jabs meant to intimidate and belittle. This little wolf-bitch, this miserable little no-count good-for-nothing dog of a woman had hurt him.

"Kill you, you little... RRAAAGHHHH!!" he lunged, left arm raised, poised to strike. Right arm raised at the shoulder, but with no bicep muscle left to flex the elbow, the arm hung half-heartedly, unable to muster enough muscular control to do what he wanted it to.
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Wolfsbane
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Wolf Form
There was no time to give any second thoughts to what was going on. There was no time to process it, to think about it. If there was, Rahne likely would have been horrified with herself. Mortified with the sheer level of violence she was capable of. She had never liked hurting people. She had never liked the capacity she had to cause grievous injury on others. Unlike some people, she would have much preferred to never have to hurt people at all.

And yet, as Sabretooth lunged at her in blind wounded-animal rage, half of his right arm torn away and lying on the pavement like a discarded chunk of meat unfit for consumption, all that mattered was the next injury to inflict. The bitter, metallic taste of his blood was still full in her mouth and she was ready to cause more of it to spill onto the pavement. In this moment, in this very second, he was everything she was upset with. He was Amara's father. He was those villainous bastards who had assassinated Scott. He was Proteus, he was the Brood Queen, he was the Purifiers, he was Magneto, he was Reverend Craig. He was oh so many negative emotions and feelings she'd never fully expressed, never exorcised. Just bottled down, pushed away, denied.

So when she dashed forward, ducked under his impaired right arm and tore deep at his side, the depth of her claws sinking into the soft flesh under his ribcage causing her momentum to swing in an arc behind him as she ripped open his side, she was striking at all of them. And it felt good.

Sabretooth stumbled as she clawed open his side, and he could feel his intestines shifting in place, spilling out of the gaping hole now in his side. You could say he had bitten off more than he could chew, but that was a bit of a misnomer. He hadn't managed to bite anything, per se. If he had full control over his mental faculties at the moment, he'd have likely been humiliated. He'd underestimated his prey. He'd assumed a weakling, a lesser, weaker variation on his own capabilities that would be easily overwhelmed. He had assumed he'd have already had both of these women dead by now, heads in boxes prepared for shipment. Prepared to send a message to certain people. Prepared to say that he could strike anywhere, at any time. That nobody was safe.

Or maybe he would have laughed at how ironic it was, that the tables were so thoroughly turned on him. But at that moment, the little werewolf on his back had sunk her fangs into his left shoulder, tearing away more muscle meat. She may have been consumed by animalistic rage, but she was striking surgically, with precision and purpose. Each chunk she took away from him, each piece of him she viciously bit off lessened his offensive capability. She had now all but disabled his arms completely.
Posted Image

[size0]Say the dog and butterfly,
in the air they like to fly.
Dog and butterfly.
She knew she had to try,
and she float back down to the warm soft ground,
laughing - she don't know why,
but she had to try, she had to try.
Dog and Buttefly.


Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much!
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Sabretooth
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Adamantium Skeleton, Claws / Feral traits, Regeneration
This was well past the point of getting ridiculous. Ridiculous had come and gone, long time ago. No. This was... this was dangerous. The rate this was going, Wolfsbane was going to tax Sabretooth's healing factor to its limit, deal so much damage to him that he'd take days to recover, if not longer. He had to end this. He had to end it now, or he'd be entirely at the wolf's mercy.

He did his best to ignore the teeth imbedded into his neck as he twisted sharply at the waist, kicking off from the pavement to ram himself back-first into the side of the building. Crush her between him and the brick, finish this before she did any more...

"Damn..." he whispered as she kicked off of him, slowing his momentum down as she leaped off from his back and rebounded without injury, feet first, off of the brick wall. He stumbled, crashing onto the pavement wounded shoulder first. The agony was immense. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and... dislocated? Yeah. Yeah, definitely dislocated. Son of a bitch.

He looked through hazy eyes at the werewolf who stood hunched in front of him, teeth bared, snarling, claws flexed, muscles trembling.

"Heh..." he rasped out, spitting a wad of his own blood out onto the pavement as the sun continued its path down. The hazy early dusk light made the wolf in front of him, savage and spattered in his own blood, all the more impressive.

"Didn't give you 'nuff credit... won't be... won't be makin' that mistake again, I promise ya that..."

The werewolf stalked closer, right arm raised a bit, ready and willing to strike and strike hard.

"Or maybe I dinnae give you the chance to make any mistakes again..." she snarled.

"Hehe. I'm sure you think you mean that, too..." Creed chuckled, forcing his left arm to move despite the severe damage he'd taken. His hand slipped into his jacket pocket and produced a small device. "Gotta love Weapon X... they always came up with the best toys..."

His thumb pressed down on a button on the device, emitting a bright flash of white light and a sharp whistle of a sound that caused Wolfsbane to reel back and shield her eyes with her right arm. Vision was hazy, spotty for a bit. The sound was nauseating, disorienting... What had... what happened, what...

When the spots cleared, when the lights faded enough that she could see again...

Wolfsbane saw very clearly that Sabretooth was gone.
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If ya want blood - you got it.
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Moira McTaggert
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It had all happened so quickly. The blink of an eye, it seemed. One moment, Moira McTaggert was giving her daughter what she needed most at that moment, telling her not what she wanted to hear, but what she needed to hear. The next, violence. Horrific violence, and not from the place Moira would have expected it.

She knew what Rahne was. She knew that all along. She knew that Rahne was a predator, a protector, a fighter. Part of that was due to her nature as a wolf. But part of that - part of that was due to the way Moira had raised her - she was sure of that. Moira had taught Rahne that people are worth fighting for. That people are worth putting your neck on the line for. She had done that with Rahne herself, when the young girl was tied to a stake and about to be set ablaze. She rescued that girl with the help of a firearm, faced an angry mob intent on killing the girl for misinterpreted demonic nature. Sure, it helped that their chase after the girl ended on Kinross land, land owned by Moira's family, so she had the added threat of right to kill since they were trespassing on her property, but still. It was one woman against a mob of angry men.

And now there was this. One woman against an invincible killing machine, one woman who had been pushed too far and snapped. But part of that, Moira knew, part of that was because Rahne could not let Sabretooth hurt her mother. She had to believe that. Because there was no way, in her mind's eye, that such a display of violence was nothing more than venting frustrations. Sabretooth was one of the most notorious murderers the world over. There could be no doubt as to what his intent was.

Rahne stood with her back to Moira, her fur and clothes drenched in Sabretooth's blood. Her breath was heaving, hissing out from between grit teeth with a slight snarl to each exhalation. Moira approached cautiously, stepping over the chunk of meat that had been torn off of Sabretooth's arm and cast aside.

"Rahne," Moira spoke softly, reaching out her right hand. The werewolf's gaze snapped back, over her shoulder, and for a moment - for just a moment, there was harshness and rage in the golden eye that looked back. The eye adjusted, her jaw relaxed, and she slowly turned to face Moira. There were a few scrapes, a few cuts upon her, from the proximity to Sabretooth. But all in all, Wolfsbane was lucky. Very lucky.

"I'm sorry... sorry ye had t'see that," Rahne whispered, her posture slumping some in exhaustion.

"I'm not," Moira answered, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder and squeezing lightly, unmindful of the thick spatters of blood. "Ye fought for me, but you also fought f'r you. That's the Rahne I know. Now no more o' this self-pity, aye? I'll have not a word more of it. Now what's say we get t' my place, you clean up, an' then we just stay in the rest of the night, aye?"

Rahne thought on that a moment, allowing it to process. She was exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Her hands hurt. Her head hurt. She couldn't think of anything better than a good cleanup and a rest.

"Aye. I love you, mum."

"I love you too. Now let's go get ye hosed off."

[End]
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