Chains of Retribution Bloodstone Medical Center - Part 2: A Change of Leadership

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as written by Julienne

It was Julienne who succumbed first to the heat of the moment. Her eyes were a swirl of amber as a growl was torn from her own throat to fill the lot, and she shed her jacket as the change overtook her.

Behind her, the door opened as Bastien was drawn out by the sound of the fight and he was abruptly met with the sight of Julienne mid shift, and Desmond coming down atop Alfred's car.

With the way the pack was ringed back, it wasn't hard to put two and two together on what was happening, but he couldn't grasp the how or why of it. Desmond was hardly one of their more ambitious - or confrontational - members.

Whatever the reason, he felt the adrenaline of the fight hit him as he stepped outside with Eliza in tow. His heart quickened with it and his irises turned yellow as his body began to prepare itself for the change.

It wouldn't be long before he and the rest of the pack joined Julienne who was now shaking herself off amid the clothes she hadn't managed to finish removing before she shifted.

"Stay near me," Bastien growled to Eliza.

A howl pierced the lot from somewhere inside the building, and it would seem it wasn't just those outside who were caught up in the changes being triggered by the flood of hormonal shifts in the gathered pack members. The lean and gangly black furred wolf that joined those outside was Jacques whom was easily recognizable by the ragged scars across his back and shoulder that left his fur patchy and sparse in four neat rows.
 
as written by Script

Under normal circumstances, Snow was usually one of the last to give in to the rush of adrenaline and hormones that a challenge provoked. These were not normal circumstances. The last of his clothes hit the floor in the same moment that white fur overtook him, and with a rapid popping and cracking of bones, he shifted. It was mere seconds before his paws touched the floor, piercing amber eyes staring after Desmond's flight. The white wolf was small by comparison to his packmates, and stood out starkly against the darkness of the night.

Quinn breathed the cold night air in deeply, letting the chill calm her. As the Bloodstones began to shift once by one, she grew tense. Beside her, Connor was watching - almost entranced. His own eyes swirled in anticipation, and Quinn reached out to grip his shoulder warningly.

He looked back at her, his eyes amber. "This is incredible," he whispered.

"That's one word for it," she murmured. "Just keep your head on straight."

Connor nodded absently, turning to look back at the display. "It's like the rush of a big crowd at a gig ten times over. It's intoxicating." He winced when Desmond hit the car. "Er ... I mean, except for ..."

Quinn rolled her eyes and grimaced. Don't like it too much, Connor. The last thing she needed was Connor deciding to run off with the pack in a more permanent fashion. She was fairly certain their mother would quite literally kill her if that happened.

In the meantime, another figure slipped out from the building in response to the loud crashing of the fight. Seri's eyes were wide as he watched the werewolves shifting around him, and for a moment his curiosity warred with his cowardice over whether he immediately turned around and retreated back inside.

Curiosity won out in the end, and he opted to nimbly work his way up the side of the building. Satisfied with the relative safety of the rooftop, he perched himself there with his legs hanging over the side, a vantage point from which to watch the challenge unfold.
 
as written by Knosis

The low growl seemed foreign coming from the normally gentle giant's throat as Kian began shedding his coat and clothes in a rather quick fashion. "Feckin' city wolves can't keep their bloody 'eads.." He muttered under his breath. His eyes were already blazing with color and he turned to look at Seamus. "Make sure ya keep near the bloody door to the trailer an' make sure tha' she don't come out." He doubled over as his body began to crack and pop, his body rearranging and growing in size. His arms and legs elongated along with his torso, but eventually his arms stopped growing as his legs kept on. His face lengthened into a snout. Fur sprouted from the giant's body, covering up most of the beast's skin. He mostly looked like a wolf-shaped gorilla. His face was half masked, part of it grey, the other part black as the night.

Kian sniffed and shook, moving his shaggy self to where he stood between his family and the shifting Bloodstones.

Skye bit her lip at the situation, wincing as she watched Desmond getting thrown into the roof of the sedan. Even as hardheaded as Desmond was, that had to hurt.

Inside the trailer, Chloe sat on the floor, leaned against the wall. Her eyes were glowing bright green in the darkened trailer as she listened to the fight outside. She wanted to shift. She felt she should shift. She swore she could feel the wolf pounding on that invisible wall that held after her episodes, and every time it brought its wrath on the wall, sent another pounding pang in her head that stopped her from shifting. She let out a soft whimpering whine, praying it would end soon.
 
as written by Tiko

As Snow and Kian shed their forms, Bastien wasn't far behind them. With Eliza momentarily forgotten, he too joined his packmates upon the ground twisting and contorting until a large shaggy brownish-blonde wolf shook itself off with a growl.

As a newcomer, Eliza - like the Iverians - wouldn't feel the pull of the pack mentality as strongly as the Bloodstone wolves did, but it was there brushing over her skin to raise goosebumps along her arms and to leave her pulse quickening.

It whispered primal instincts into her ear. Come with us. Run with us. Fight with us.

The battle wasn't over yet though, and Desmond flailed among the crushed frame of the vehicle before he managed to roll himself free of the totaled car. The fur of his shoulder and foreleg were matted with blood, and he favored the leg as he stanced back off to face Ragenard once more. He stood with his injured shoulder shielded away from his opponent though, and this time he seemed intent on waiting for Ragenard to come to him rather than risk a second bullrush attempt.

Some part of the rising euphoria of the pack found its way into the pounding of his heart and the primal instinct to win, but it remained clear of his more conscious thoughts as his world had shrunk until it include only him and Ragenard.
 
as written by LuLu6214

Eliza stood there watching the pack turn, an electricity filled the air it energized her. A desire to join in and an excitement and agression filled her not as strongly as the pack but it called to her instincts. Her eyes shifted as her heart quickened and suddenly like a freight train she dropped to her knee and screamed out in pain, as if the pack was amlifying everything.

She began struggling to remove her clothes, exposing her various tattoos and scars of which she was hoping was not noticed since she had never changed in front of others and was out of her comfort zone. Her bones began to crack and break before reforming into their respective shape she fell to the ground as her muscles tightened and enlarged, her face changed and dark brown almost black fur began to grow.

She was taking far longer to shift than the pack and the pain was far more than she had ever experienced on her own, she let out a loud howl of pain before shaking it off. She had done it. Now she felt the wildness inside the instinct telling her to run, to fight it was calling to her.
 
as written by Faithy and Sokka

Her sleep wasn’t as restful as Aimee had hoped, but at least she did manage to get a little bit of shut eye. She probably would have continued her fight with the elusive sandman, but a loud crashing sound snapped her awake. Blinking and glancing around, she tried to figure out what was going on. Did the Scions find the Medical Center? Was it the police? It bothered her that sound was akin to someone smashing into a car. Just what was going on anyways?

Grunting, the dark haired female slid to her feet and started for the door, needing to know if they were no longer safe. Though, there didn’t appear to be any screams inside of the building. She took about three steps before it hit her. A tingling sensation rushed through her body and Aimee felt just like she did during the Den brawls, just less intense. Still, the urge to shift was there, which was probably not a good thing, especially given her current state.

“…Arg…” Moving out of the room she had commandeered, Aimee looked around to see what was going on before realizing quite a few had moved outside. Taking a few steps towards the door, she faltered and leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the desire to shift that was bouncing within her. Turning around, she opted to try and find Jesse, hoping that he would be some kind of help, though she honestly, wasn’t sure what could help her truly ignore what she was currently feeling.

____

Renard had dozed off in the room, however he woke suddenly to sounds of shouting and an almost instinctual call in the back of his mind. Dragging himself out of bed he staggered across the room and threw the door open. As he staggered outwards he noticed Aimee approaching from the direction of the main room. The urge to shift was there and he could tell from the screaming that something was going down. The look in Aimee's eyes confirmed Renard's instincts.

"You feel it too?" Renard asked with a somewhat weakened voice, as he leaned against the wall.
 
as written by Architect

Wiping a damp hand off on the side of his trousers, Alfred emerged from within the building blinking and confused. A loud crash had rushed him out of the bathroom, pistol at the ready. However it was not a second wave of attacks on the pack as he'd feared, but something all the more worrisome.

The first to get his attention were Bastien and the others, it wasn't everyday Alfred saw them in their other form, there was an incredibly thick tension that filled the air like a fog. Instead of causing his blood to boil however, it instead sent a freezing chill through his veins. It wasn't the threat of a shift that caused the hair on the back of his neck to bristle, it was genuine fear.

Behind the fear though, Alfred could make out the faint coaxing inside of his head. The silent, formless words that tempted his body of their own accord. He ignored them for now, to the best of his ability. He imagined the only reason the temptation was even resistible was due to the, difficulties, he had within the pack.

It was only then did Alfred turn to notice the fight the others were watching so intently.

Ragenard and Desmond. Oh. Great. This wasn't going to end well regardless of the victor. Looking around once more, Alfred assumed this was another "challenge", similar to the one he'd accidentally got himself involved in with Julienne in a misguided attempt to calm her down. A faint, nostalgic pain resonated in the side of his head and Alfred rubbed his face and temples with his hand.

When his hand dropped down once more...he realized a sight that gave him an even bigger headache.

"Aw....fuck...." He groaned, his hand slipping into his pocket in a vain attempt to deny the truth in front of him.

The crumpled scrap heap of a car suddenly let out a warped chirp, lights flashing twice.
 
as written by CelticCat

Fiona slowly moved until she was at Kian's side, her eyes quickly scanning the action. She was concerned for Desmond's well-being, but she knew better than to interfere. Though it was strange to her, this battle seemed to be regulated, necessary...Nothing that she needed to interfere in. However, as the entirety of the pack across from her family began to turn, her heartbeat quickened. She kept a defensive stance, hoping that this would end before things escalated any further. She took no pleasure watching her family member being beaten so brutally.

Inside the building, Raquette was jolted from her thoughts by the crashing noises from outside. Her body felt tense, but she snatched her phone and ran towards the main entrance as quick as she could manage. Though she would typically be more careful in checking the situation she was entering, there was a pressure at the base of her neck that moved her forward. A deep need to figure out what was happening.

The air was thick, intense, and overpowering outside. As she saw her packmates in their other form, she knew what was happening--what was going to happen to her. Smells intensified, her body prickled, and her throat felt almost like it was about to close up. Raquette's eyes finally registered Ragenard and Desmond, then the foreign wolves. Spikes of discomfort grew stronger as the transformation process continued and she didn't spend any more thoughts on the root of the situation. Instead, she focused on moving towards someone she trusted. Towards Snow.
 
Meanwhile inside...

as written by Tiko and Knosis

Jesse had nodded off in one of the chairs just inside the door to Carlisle's room. Having finally been relieved of his watch over Baron, he had taken the opportunity to shut his eyes, if only for a time. He hadn't wanted to go far though. Carlisle himself was resting as well, but his condition was on a decline, and Jesse had opted to remain nearby and within rousing distance should his condition deteriorate further.

Re'Altarm moved silently into the room, the dark haired girl noting that it seemed that the place had emptied out for the night. It was curious as to where everyone had gone, but whatever the reason, it was not her place to know why.

She crossed over to Carlisle, checking his general condition and placing a hand lightly on his cheek to feel his temperature.

Carlisle stirred at Re'Altarm's touch and he cracked his eyes open. His skin was pale and clammy, but he seemed coherent enough when he looked at her. Before today he hadn't seen her since her first shift, but he had been among the few who had spent many an hour watching over her while she had been sick with fever in the cellar of the Den. It seemed she was returning the gesture with checking up on him.

He gave a light chuckle.

"I hope you're worth all this trouble," he told her.

He meant it as a light jest, but it came out harsher than intended. He was too exhausted to try and explain himself though. He wasn't sure which was worse. The poison, or the drugs that Reinhard had pumped him full of that were keeping him groggy.

The woman smiled a small apologetic grin. "I'll make it up to you, somehow." She said quietly, brushing his hair gently. His words had stung, though she showed no sign of it.

"I'm just checking up on you for now.. Sorry for waking you.. You need anything? Water perhaps..?"

"Just some water," Carlisle answered. "What do you think of pack life so far?" he inquired.

She walked away and found a small plastic cup and started to fill it with the tap water. "It.. It reminds me of how things were before I came to the city.. Sorta anyway." She said. "I don't know where I stand with everything.. And I feel.." She seemed as though she was struggling for the words to say as she walked back to the man, cup in hand. "Lost..?" She shook her head. "It is probably due to the situation we're in right now though. Let me help you sit up.."

"I'm not an invalid just yet," Carlisle told her with a grunt as he sat himself up. "And that's how it always is. For the ones not born into the pack. It takes time to find your place in it."

Re nodded softly and handed the cup to him. "Still should take it easy." She said. "Don't want to push yourself." She sat down beside him, keeping an eye on him closely.

"It was the same before I came to the city. I had lost my way after I left the.. The group I was with before. Then I came to the city and I realized I looked just as ragged and tired as it did, so perhaps I could find my place here. So being.. 'lost'.. isn't new. Just a different type. I feel as though I belong here, I just don't know where yet." She looked up at him with tired eyes. "Does that make sense in your words?"

Carlisle seemed to be having some manner of trouble forming his response when Ragenard's deafening roar reached them from outside the med center.

"What in the-" Carlisle broke off mid sentence.

Jesse too all but jolted awake as he threw his eyes around trying to regain his bearings.

"What's going on?" he asked before he realized Carlisle had shifted so his legs hung over the side of the cot, seemingly intent on getting up.

"Hey whoa there," Jesse interjected. "You are in no shape for a fight."

"Like hell I'm not," Carlisle growled.

Re'Altarm was already on her feet and on guard. Her eyes were glowing brightly, her mind already going to the worse situation. She started for the door, looking ready to engage anyone she thought was a Scion if they opened that door. "Jesse, Carlisle, if it is Rowan's gang, I need you to stay here and stick close to Baron."

Jesse meanwhile made for the window, oposite the door. It was boarded up to keep up the appearance of an abandoned building, and he tried to get a peek through the cracks. His field of vision was greatly limited though, and he was hearing more than he was seeing.

"Wait," Jesse called to Re'Altarm.

"What is it?" Carlisle asked.

"It looks like... Ragenard and... Desmond?" Jesse answered.

Carlisle joined Jesse at the window to get a look out for himself before he grunted.

"Baron's not even been out a day, and the pack is already scrapping among itself," he said with a shake of his head.

He rested one hand against the planks of wood to steady himself.

"For fucks sake, get back in the cot would you," Jesse muttered.

Re headed for the window, in time to watch the huge wolf being crunched into the roof of the sedan. She winced in sympathy.

There was a draw there, and her pulse quickened. The thrill and excitement of all the wars she had been in in her short life had never once gotten to her, but this was different. She wanted to join in, wanted to be with the pack. Her honey colored eyes glowed slightly, feeling as to go rush outside just like everyone else had. That is, until she looked over to Jesse. Instantly, she regretted even thinking of leaving him alone.

"I don't feel so well.." She muttered, pulling away from the window.

Jesse lay a hand on Re'Altarm's shoulder, but one look at her eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Go on," he told her. "You'll want to be with them when it's done. I'd join them myself, but I'm going to be needed here yet, and well you know how it is when I shift," he answered with a quirky half grin to lighten the mood and the conflict he saw in her eyes. "I'll be stuck until tomorrow if I do."

Re'Altarm frowned. "But.. What if you need me?" She still seemed reluctant, but the pull to join the others was growing stronger. She looked to Carlisle. "And you? I need to stay here and make sure you two are okay.."

"I think we can hold down the fort for a while," Jesse reassured her.

"And you're not going to do anyone any good wound up like that all night," Carlisle told her.

Outside the sounds of the fighting were momentarily interupted by a bone chilling howl that left Re'Altarm's skin tingling with almost euphoric rush, only for the howl to be punctuated by the audible sound of screeching metal.

"... that is not going to end well," Jesse said as he took another look through the cracks in the wooden planks.

"Does it ever, with Ragenard?" Carlisle grunted.

The howl sent shivers down Re'Altarm's spine, and it was enough to give in. She had half the sense to pull off her shirt before her body began to change. The transformation was still painfully slow. She grasped and groaned in pain as the flesh and bones stretched and contorted.

____

as written by Faithy and Sokka

Aimee paused in her walking when Renard appeared out of a nearby room. Blinking at his appearance, she wondered just how many were injured that she didn’t even know about. Sighing, she simply nodded at him, glad that she wasn’t the only one that felt the pull to shift. Her eyes shifted back towards the door and she seriously thought about going outside to see what was going on, but Ragenard said she wasn’t to go anywhere beyond the walls and she sure wasn’t about to go against his rules.

“Yes… I feel it. I want to shift…” Amiee frowned before hissing, the stitches pulling a little in the process.

Renard nodded to her, "I feel it too." He said.

He knew if he shifted though his condition may worsen. He had too keep control he knew if he went outside he might be tempted to shift."I-I can't let myself shift." He said hoarsely.

"Have you been inside this whole time? Any idea what's going on out there? Seems like a brawl, but who could possibly be fighting with everything that's been happening?" Aimee frowned a second time and slid her fingers through her hair, dodging the bandages that wrapped around her head to ensure that the stitches remained covered.

Renard shook his head. "I'm not sure what's going on but sounds like it mgiht be a fight. I wonder who it is but I don't dare got outthere." Renard said. "A shift is not something I need right now." He added.

"I guess going out there wouldn't be wise, but I'm incredibly curious. Plus, it's not like I can go back to sleep with what's going on out there. I bet I could take a peak and it'd be fine." Aimee was only half serious, because something told her that going out there would only end up with her shifting due to just what little she was feeling by being inside.

"You don't look so go anyways, Renard." She added with a faint smile.

Renard nodded, "The curiosty is there for me too but I don't want to aggrivate my condition, I don't think a shift would be in my favor right now." He said. "So where were you off to before I ambushed you here?" Renard said chuckling slightly.

"What's wrong with you? I mean, you don't look like there's anything with you, but of course, can't see every inch of you. I was uhh... I was looking for Jesse. I need more drugs or something, I'm not really sure what I really want or need right now." Aimee just shrugged a little, reaching out to once again slide her fingers through her hair, a nervous trait she picked up on at some point in time.

"A scion whore sliced me up with a poisoned blade." He said, lifting at the hem of his shirt to show his bandaged side.

"Drugs, I could use some good pain killers for this head ache right now. " He said "I wonder where he is and I wonder how Carlisle is doing." He added as he glanced around, he wasn't entirely sure where to look for any of them.

Glancing at the bandaged side, Aimee hissed in empathy for Renard and the pain he was probably currently in. Her face wasn't feeling to wonderful either nor was her wrist, but she figured it could have been worse. Poisoned? Was he going to be okay? Her concern about herself was set aside for the moment and she stepped closer, looking at the area and sighed softly,

"Has that been looked at? I know it's bandaged, so someone looked at it, but has it been truly looked at? I mean, does Jesse know you've been poisoned? Was Carlisle poisoned too?" Aimee shook her head a little in deep thought.

"Yeah Racquette's taken a look at it this morning and Jesse has been taking a look at it also." Renard said.

"I think I'll be okay, I'm not going to die before I put a bullet in a few scion skulls first." He said chuckling weakly. "How are you holding up?" He asked.

"Oh, good. I mean, I figured you had gotten it examined, but then again, things have been incredibly crazy around here the last however many hours we've been here. I'd love to put some bullets in some Scion skulls too. I did manage to shoot at a couple of them earlier at the Den, but no idea what lasting damage I managed to do to them." She kept her bandaged wrist down by her side, trying to mentally keep herself from moving.

"I'm in a lot of pain, but I'll be fine. Well, until I get questioned about my appearance at the Den and my ehh... ...issue. But, other than that, I'm alright." She smiled faintly, deciding to keep her issues under lock and key until questioned about her activities.

Renard nodded. "I wonder where Jesse went off to Shall we go find him?" Renard asked.

"Yeah... either that or I'm going to defy Ragenard and step outside the door to see what's going on outside right now. I've always been a curious individual after all." She started to grin before the tugging on her stitches were enough to make her stop immediately.
 
Back outside...

as written by Dashmiel and Tiko

The beast within Ragenard rejoiced with every scent it took from the air. As the bloodstone pack continued to shift around him, he could feel his thoughts begin to calm and focus, the rage between man and beast giving way to efficient coexistence.

Feeling a surge of energy, Ragenard dropped to all fours with a loud popping of joints as he feinted a bullrush exactly like Desmond's before Desmond lowered himself slightly and his muscles coiled as he poised himself to move. Before Ragenard reached him though, the charging monstrosity abruptly reined in short a scant few yards away and smoothly pistoned his legs to sail clear over Desmond and Alfred's car in a steep descending arc nearly straight down towards the ground. Landing on the palms of his hands he proceeded to abuse his prodigious strength and whilst his elbows slowly fractured, he redirected his momentum from his fall using the force of his flexing arm muscles alone and kicked the car into Desmond with a satisfied grunt.

Desmond's first impulse was to spring forward as Ragenard cleared past him overhead, but at the last minute, he tensed and braced himself as Ragenard's feet connected with the twisted metal frame of the sedan.

Rather than leaping clear, he took the full brunt of the car's impact down the length of his massive bulk. It staggered him, but he kept his footing as the side off the vehicle caved in, and with a grunt he brought his full weight to bear as he threw his shoulder into the car to overturn it onto Ragenard.

Ragenard roared his annoyance at Desmond's insistance to remain standing, but was quickly silenced by a car to the face. Alfred's car slid and overturned towards him, hitting him head on the face before staggering him and knocking the wind out of him momentarily as his stomach got clipped by the car's fender.

Before Ragenard could regain his senses, Desmond was up and over the heap of a car in a nine-hundred odd pound full body takedown as the pair hit the pavement. Something in the fight had changed though, and the aggression between the pair was thick in the air as Desmond's jaws came bearing down towards Ragenard's face with seemingly lethal intent.

The force of Desmond's takedown further stunned Ragenard, and his attempts to dazedly swat Desmond away before it was too late swung far too wide. Even as Desmond's jaws made contact with his face just above the cheekbone and crunched it to dust, Ragenard could feel the energy around him continue to invigorate him.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be doing much the same for Desmond, whose bearing weight as he continued to mangle Ragenard's face with bloody efficiency was making it difficult for Ragenard to extricate himself from this assault.

Fangs tore into flesh and spilled fresh blood across the pair of them, and the vice grip of Desmond's jaws was met with the audible cracking of bone as Ragenard's skull and facial bones were fractured further beneath the viciousness of Desmond's attack.
 
as written by Quinn

Quinn winced. That had looked like it hurt. All of it. The fight was difficult to keep track of, but the amount of blood spraying and cracking sounds were unsettling to say the least. She'd expected a punch up, maybe a few broken bones. Not this. She raised one hand to cover her mouth in worry.

Connor's enraptured state was snapped back to reality as the fight progressed, and he found himself as shocked as Quinn was at the brutality of it. "Are they ..." he trailed off as Desmond's jaws closed once more and he flinched, "This isn't to the death, is it?"

"It wasn't supposed to be," was Quinn's only answer. It wasn't exactly reassuring.

Amidst the Bloodstones, Snow growled lowly as the fight grew more bloody. The increased aggression hadn't been hard to pick up on. But the last thing they needed now was a pointless death. Surely both Desmond and Ragenard knew that?

Know it they might, but was questionable how much of this fight remained on the plateau of conscious thought.
 
as written by Quinn

Jean-Pierre was a man that typically prided himself in his self-control, especially when it came to the containment of the beast within himself, but this was too much, and that bitter nostalgic feeling soon became overwhelming, so he gave in to it. His jacket was removed and thrown to the side, while he quickly undid the buttons to his shirt with one hand and discarded it in a similar fashion. His shift was over by the time the shirt hit the ground.

From his toes to his shoulders, he measured in at a modest six feet and six inches, but what he lacked in the height department he made up for in pure mass, weighing in at a solid fourteen hundred pounds. His morphology seemed more akin to hyena than it did wolf, with a high wither and his back sloping downward towards his rump and hind legs, as well as a thick and short neck and shorter facial features.

His undercoat was spotted black, while his top coat was colored like rust, and was more sparse now that he was in the triple digits of age, the only exception to this being a thick, black mane of fur that ran along his back. His eyes remained their yellow-green color, and the scar that ran over his left one was still very visible. With a prompt shake of the body and arch of his back, he turned his short muzzle upward and let out a roar, exposing teeth more suited for the the crushing of bones than the piercing of flesh.

After that had been let out of his system, that about-to-be-struck-by-lightning feeling began to dampen and he turned to observe the fight once more, or at the very least observe what he could keep up with. With the recent development in the fight, that is, the destruction of Ragenard's face, his facial muscles pulled and contracted to pull off the closest thing to a wince, and he turned his head away from the scene for a brief moment. He knew Ragenard could and would endure it, but it still wasn't a pretty sight, even if it was one he had seen - one he had caused - many times.
 
as written by Lialore

Brendan followed shortly after Kian with his own turn, feeling instinctive wrenches from too many directions. His own form – almost identical to his brother’s, if marginally smaller – had taken on an erratic pace. He remained in an awkward position between the two packs, watching the fight with a lowered head and an intense stare as he stalked his short way, left to right.

The smell of oil joined the musk and the blood as the fight seemed to sink deeper; as were the teeth. If there had been a strategy, Brendan was suddenly worried that his brother had forgotten it amidst the violence. His family’s words and Snow’s growl let him know that he wasn’t alone.


Near the doorway stood one of the few remaining human figures on the premises. Above a pair of crossed arms, two faded green eyes watched the scene with reproach. Cass had always had an unnatural amount of control, but she had never felt a pull quite like this. Still, she fought it as usual. But just breathing in the shared, intoxicated air made her feel ill. She was sure that if she loosened her fists, the change would be almost instant.

So, this was how it was supposed to be done. Although there was the beginning of understanding, Cass was far from embracing.
 
as written by Knosis

Skye ground her teeth as she watched the fight continue on. She knew that Desmond was a right fool by this point, and with half the Bloodstones shifting, it was obvious that there was a bit of blood frenzy going on with the battle. If something didn't change or if something wasn't done, one or both of them were going to end up dead. And that was not something she was going to allow.

She shed her jacket and tossed it towards her bike, spewing all sorts of curses under her breath in Iverian, her eyes on the fight still. She had no clue what she was going to do yet, but she was preparing to get into the middle of them if it called for it.
 
as written by Tiko

"An' 'ow exactly am I supposed to stop 'er if she gets the mind to come out?" Seamus asked.

The words were spoken with a touch of amusement, but he did take a step back to put himself between the trailer and Kian. Even human as he was, he could feel the prickle of energy along his skin that left him uneasy. The tension in the air was so thick that one misstep, one mispoken word, could descend the two packs into a maelstrom of violence.
 
as written by Knosis

Kian looked over his shoulder and gave a wolfish snort. He did have a point. Seamus probably could hold the woman in if she stayed in human form. But with everyone shifting, it probably wouldn't take much to push her over the edge as well. Kian was more than just a bit tense.

Chloe let out a whine, her fingers digging into her scalp. The noise outside let her know what was going on, and though normally she would worry for Desmond, the tension in the air was suffocating her.
 
as written by Dashmiel and Tiko

From within a maelstrom of pain, Ragenard's fury slowly pressed against the artificial ceiling he'd imposed upon it as Desmond continued to chew on his face, and he continued to ineffectually attempt to remove him off him via awkward attempts at carefully grasping him.

His roar of rage mixed with the sound of breaking bones as his anger surged and the tension in the air propelled it far past the barriers Ragenard initially meant to sustain.

As Desmond's jaws momentarily widened to twist and keep crunching, Ragenard slammed one hand into the ground cracking the pavement, while another forcefully grasped Desmond by the back of the head and pushed him deeper into Ragenard's face as he brutally shoved off the ground with one hand and dragged Desmond into a roll, his legs quickly smashing against Desmond's ribs as he lifted his head off and roared blood and spittle at Desmond's face before delivering a vicious punch to his jaw.

As Desmond felt his balance and weight shifting, he dug in to spring away, only for Ragenard's grip on the him to leave him scrabbling for footing as he came down hard on the pavement on his side.

The blow to his jaw cracked several molars and pain exploded across Desmond's vision as he twisted, snapped, and snarled in an effort to gain some purchase to either twist free of Ragenard, or to get his fangs into something. Ragenard's face and throat remained just out of reach, and the iron grip on the back of Desmond's head left the massive wolf's jaws repeatedly snapping closed only a hairsbreadth away from Ragenard's forearm.

The thudding of Ragenard's fists connecting with Desmond's skull were audible across the parking lot as Ragenard used his heft to keep Desmond pinned down while he worked him over for a good minute in some good old fashioned ground n' pound violence. With every hit he could feel the healing tissues on his face bleed anew under the stress of his furious grimacing.

The energy of having a whole pack at his back again was making it difficult to think but Ragenard was nonetheless able to reign himself in his assault. Controlling his anger before it got away from him, Ragenard delivered one last particularly brutal blow to the side of Desmond's head.

As Ragenard released Desmond and rose, the massive wolf managed to roll himself half to his feet as he staggered dazedly before a swift kick to his ribs sent him sprawling towards the members of the Bloodstone pack. The impact of the kick was dull and blunted, but punctuated by the muted sound of a crack.

The heavy bass of Ragenard's challenging barks drowning out the sounds of surprise from some of the pack as they scattered around Desmond, who scrambled for his footing and backed up with a shake of his head. His legs were unsteady and he was clearly in a daze as he threw his head around to try and pinpoint Ragenard's location, growling lowly.
 
as written by Knosis

Skye watched on, reluctantly. She knew how much of a bruising Desmond could take. They had been in many scuffles in the past together. But it had been when they had gotten in trouble together. From her memory, she couldn't recall a time where her hands had been tied in this manner before.

And she hated it.

She started walking towards the pair, to get in the crowd that had scattered about Desmond after he had been kicked, waiting and watching.

Kian paced side to side.
 
as written by Dashmiel and Tiko

Ragenard's mental dam finally broke upon hearing the hint of challenge remaining behind Desmond's growling. This had gone on too long in his mind, and he decided he finally had enough of people either defying or questioning his will this day. Standing up straight and stretching to his full height, Ragenard stared Desmond down whilst gesturing all around him and then at himself animatedly. A moment later he unleashed yet another roar, but this one was lower in tone and carried with it a plehgmy and raspy undertone.

Eyes blazing like the full moon, Ragenard then pointed directly at Desmond before speaking, or at least the closest he could get to it by purposely mangling his vocal chords:

"I LEAD. YOU SLEEP," Ragenard roared gutturally at Desmond. Or at least he attempted his best effort, his words sounding contorted and twisted as if being torn apart by a fleshy woodchipper. The meaning behind his tone however was unmistakeable; the pup nibbling was over and Desmond was in for a very bad night.

Without warning, he rushed Desmond's position in a brutal display of exactly how fast and precise Ragenard could be when he wanted. The pavement beneath his flexing knees strained and then broke as Ragenard shot off like a bullet, his perception of the world around him muting itself somewhat as his senses struggled to keep up with the ridiculous bursts of speed that such a large collection of muscles could store within themselves. Under the onslaught of that much kinetic energy, Desmond never stood a dream of a chance.

Effortlessly (ignoring the sounds of his cracking bones after every change of direction) gliding over, around, and besides the Bloodstone members in his path, Ragenard reached Desmond mere moments after his proclamation. To his credit, Desmond had begun to turn towards where he likely expected the threat to come from, but both his morphology and his instincts would prove to be no match for Ragenard's unpredictability; to say nothing to their sheer difference in weight class.

Not giving Desmond any time to clear his head, Ragenard proceeded to sucker punch him on the jaw hard enough to ensure there wouldn't be many uncracked teeth left. Ragenard then grabbed a hold of Desmond with both hands almost as soon as Desmond's head started snapping back after being struck and forcefully seized him. With one hand bunched over Desmond's shoulders and the other over his back, Ragenard spun violently in place with enough force to bring himself to tears before flinging Desmond at a van off in the other side of the lot, the sheer velocity at which his body flew making a whistling tune against the friction of the air.
 
as written by Knosis

This had gone on long enough for Skye. She started moving into the direction of the brawl, stripping her clothes as she went. She was still trying to move in the direction of the pair as the change hit. Tattoos were replaced by ebony fur. Her knees buckled and she ended up on the ground, scrapping her knees and the palms of her hands as they elongated and contorted. Shifting had always been easy for this Iverian, and speed had always been her strength to those bigger and stronger than her. Normally her family several minutes to shift, where her shifting was fluid. It was an abnormal gift, they claimed.
 
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