She hadn’t anticipated this scenario, control of the formalized bout of aggression slipping all too quickly towards insanity and escalating towards something far more final than she was willing to accept at that moment – her death. She was aware that the depths of Fallon were dark, almost unfathomable in nature, but this was beyond even what she had imagined. Fallon wasn’t so much unleashing her skills as she was unleashing the entirety of her darker nature at her – as far as she could tell between the blows that rocked her consciousness with their power. She didn’t look it, arms slender, but the strength was great in her punches and clawing. Her head snapped into various directions as knuckles impacted and slip her lip, cheek and she was sure much of her face would swell very quickly. Zandelia was a better fighter but this was like facing suicide.
She doesn’t care about herself, only about getting at me! She’s petching lost it! was all she could think as she blocked another series of blows, shaking her head and desperately seeking a way out of the predicament.
“Argh! Petch me!” she screamed as the teeth bit into her forearm and deeply at that. She grabbed the woman’s hair to pull her off and was rewarded with a handful of strands as Fallon’s head whipped back and she could see the wildness in her eyes – she was feral.
Further blows rained, a kick to her abdomen pushing her backwards and giving a small respite within which to breathe and reassess the situation. Her vision worked double time, slowing the scene as adrenaline flooded her in what her body assumed were her last moments. Fallon was a brawler, not a fighter, and she had lost what thin grip upon sanity she usually seemed to possess. Fluid in motion but the attacks were easily read and she slapped a few of them aside before ramming her palm into the woman’s breast just as a fist glanced into her own shoulder. She grunted and ducked another before using a kick to push Fallon back. All the while her mind was fired and seeking a solution.
Feral, feral. Animal. Prey, I’m the prey. She wants me but anger is close to other emotions. Wrath even more so. How do we use that? Is it even usable? God’s if I survive this I’ll give her a damned bite back she promised as she stepped to the side and eluded Fallon by pushing the arms away once more.
She didn’t evade the next one though, Fallon came in quickly and instead of throwing a punch went for a grapple to the clothing. That was bad, it was more difficult to break than if it had been upon her wrist and it meant she no longer had the advantage of distance. The other fist came around and that growl of a word told her everything she needed to know. She wanted Zandelia dead, not injured but dead. Truly this was not Fallon, or rather it wasn’t the Fallon the other woman wanted to be. She wasn’t a murderer, she could be pulled back. Somewhere, underneath the maelstrom, she knew her Fallon was there. She looked into the eyes as one hand slipped around the other woman’s waist and the other hand came around to clasp around the incoming fist – muscles bunched as she slowed it and stopped it mid-approach.
“You want me dead Fallon? Fine, I’ll let you kill me as I can’t bring myself to kill you. Allow me one, last, favour though. Please” she grunted the words out almost as the struggle for supremacy continued.
It had to be quick, the appeal she was going to attempt, or it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t even sure if it would work at all but she was damned if she wasn’t going to try it all the same – something she had wanted to do for some time indeed. If she was to die then she would have what she wanted. She shifted her body and pressed it against the woman, the hand holding the fist releasing it and letting it slam into her ribs – she rode the pain and the now free hand grabbed the back of Fallon’s head and forced their lips together in fulfilment. Intimacy amidst the battlefield. The hand upon the waist squeezed Fallon tightly into a half-embrace and she closed her eye to better relish the moment and store the memory away.
Perhaps my spirit will remember it after I am dead she told herself as she enjoyed the moment before letting the woman go and stepping back.
“Now you can kill me” she put her arms up in the universal symbol of defeat.
Of course she would continue to fight back if required but she hoped that the shock of what she had just done would bring the woman back – it was the only key she knew into the heart of Fallon that always seemed to work. Well…one way or another. It could potentially drive her frenzy further but it was a gamble because she had no other options left open to her.
She doesn’t care about herself, only about getting at me! She’s petching lost it! was all she could think as she blocked another series of blows, shaking her head and desperately seeking a way out of the predicament.
“Argh! Petch me!” she screamed as the teeth bit into her forearm and deeply at that. She grabbed the woman’s hair to pull her off and was rewarded with a handful of strands as Fallon’s head whipped back and she could see the wildness in her eyes – she was feral.
Further blows rained, a kick to her abdomen pushing her backwards and giving a small respite within which to breathe and reassess the situation. Her vision worked double time, slowing the scene as adrenaline flooded her in what her body assumed were her last moments. Fallon was a brawler, not a fighter, and she had lost what thin grip upon sanity she usually seemed to possess. Fluid in motion but the attacks were easily read and she slapped a few of them aside before ramming her palm into the woman’s breast just as a fist glanced into her own shoulder. She grunted and ducked another before using a kick to push Fallon back. All the while her mind was fired and seeking a solution.
Feral, feral. Animal. Prey, I’m the prey. She wants me but anger is close to other emotions. Wrath even more so. How do we use that? Is it even usable? God’s if I survive this I’ll give her a damned bite back she promised as she stepped to the side and eluded Fallon by pushing the arms away once more.
She didn’t evade the next one though, Fallon came in quickly and instead of throwing a punch went for a grapple to the clothing. That was bad, it was more difficult to break than if it had been upon her wrist and it meant she no longer had the advantage of distance. The other fist came around and that growl of a word told her everything she needed to know. She wanted Zandelia dead, not injured but dead. Truly this was not Fallon, or rather it wasn’t the Fallon the other woman wanted to be. She wasn’t a murderer, she could be pulled back. Somewhere, underneath the maelstrom, she knew her Fallon was there. She looked into the eyes as one hand slipped around the other woman’s waist and the other hand came around to clasp around the incoming fist – muscles bunched as she slowed it and stopped it mid-approach.
“You want me dead Fallon? Fine, I’ll let you kill me as I can’t bring myself to kill you. Allow me one, last, favour though. Please” she grunted the words out almost as the struggle for supremacy continued.
It had to be quick, the appeal she was going to attempt, or it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t even sure if it would work at all but she was damned if she wasn’t going to try it all the same – something she had wanted to do for some time indeed. If she was to die then she would have what she wanted. She shifted her body and pressed it against the woman, the hand holding the fist releasing it and letting it slam into her ribs – she rode the pain and the now free hand grabbed the back of Fallon’s head and forced their lips together in fulfilment. Intimacy amidst the battlefield. The hand upon the waist squeezed Fallon tightly into a half-embrace and she closed her eye to better relish the moment and store the memory away.
Perhaps my spirit will remember it after I am dead she told herself as she enjoyed the moment before letting the woman go and stepping back.
“Now you can kill me” she put her arms up in the universal symbol of defeat.
Of course she would continue to fight back if required but she hoped that the shock of what she had just done would bring the woman back – it was the only key she knew into the heart of Fallon that always seemed to work. Well…one way or another. It could potentially drive her frenzy further but it was a gamble because she had no other options left open to her.