As written by Lobos, Script, and Knosis
Grimacing at the hot blood as it washed over his hand, Gabriel followed through with a knee strike to the groin, enhanced with an energy aura, as he turned his head at the last moment, taking a grazing strike from Jason that ripped shallow furrows across his cheek and temple as it glanced from his skull, shaking his head with a slight daze as the younger wolf began to lift him from his feet.
Still aware enough to recognize the threat, Gabriel flailed his weight backwards to hit the ground on his feet, snatching at Jason’s arm to gain the leverage of his own to attempt to hurl him overhead with his own strength. An attempt that was foiled as Jason snapped his arm back for an underhand blow, knocking the Aanar’s hand back and down.
Using the opportunity to coil his own arm back, Gabriel used Jason’s grip to spin himself away from a direct hit, a fist dragging across his midsection, feeling ribs creaking and groaning as the monstrous strength of the younger wolf rippled across him with the narrow evasion. Pivoting back, he struck Jason with a solid blow to the face, his nose breaking under the power-wreathed right jab. Merely offering a grimace of rage, Jason drew back before launching his fist into a wicked left hook, the unnatural crimson radiance of his veins shining brightly as the shell of power around his fist for the side of Gabriel’s head.
Gabriel wreathed his next word in all the power he could muster, channeling furiously without the usual guide of incantation or hand gestures, a single concept poured into an outcry. A bellowed command, spittle flying from his lips.
“Hold!”
The effort left him momentarily shaking, drained as he wrenched backwards sharply, hoping that the spell turned command held true, if only for moments.
Jason’s fist stopped in midair, as the powerful magic gripped his body and drew his swing to a halt. His face twisted in anger, a snarl escaping his lips as he struggled against the compulsion, arm shaking in the air and flashing with erratic pulses of ruby. For all his brute strength, though, the spell held him - for the moment. As his anger and adrenaline built against the restraining curse, however, it became clear it wouldn’t for long.
Gabriel wrenched his arm loose, shoving hard against the quivering Jason to topple him. Sparing him a cold, knowing glare, he turned to Rowan, offering a shrug. “I yield. There wasn’t going to be another outcome with my hands tied behind my back, pissing the day away on a fist fight when you know I have other talents.”
Jason hit the ground, still largely motionless, but barely a moment later his body jerked back into motion as he forced his way through the magical paralysis, fist completing its swing to slam into the concrete ground with a crack that left a small crater at the point of impact. The younger wolf pushed himself to his feet with a furious snarl, fully ready to continue the fight, but pausing for just the barest moment to await Rowan’s input.
It was a yield, but did it mean anything? There was no respect in Gabriel’s words. No admittance of fault, no bowing of his head. He might be yielding in words, but there was no yielding of spirit here. And that was what mattered to the wolf that was frothing at the bit to be unleashed on this bitch of a witch, to hell with his ‘other talents’.
The alpha was leaned back against another junker, his eyes lazed upon the pair as though he’d rather be elsewhere. Truth be told, there were other places he’d rather be, but for other reason other than he was simply bored.
In a rare moment, the leader was conflicted. Uncertain as to how he should step forward from here. Both his former and his current second had talents, skills that were useful to keep close. Things that he could use. Both were undoubtedly loyal, both had shown as much. Gabriel had the brains and experience, Jason had the brawn and the recklessness.
And even if Rowan made a choice one way or another, the either wasn’t going to respect the other.
Rowan grunted as he sat back up, pulling a cigarette out of his pack. His blue hues glowed slightly with the energy the pair gave off. He would have to play this carefully.
“Rules are rules. If this were a normal case, Jason would easily remain my second in command. But this isn’t a normal case, and rule are in place to be broken on occasion. Hear me out before your pants get twisted any more.” He said, exhaling a plume of smoke.
“I’m going to level with both of you. Both of you have been loyal to me and have earned the respect and fear of what it means to be a Scion’s second in command. Jason, you’ve stuck by me and followed my every command without question for years now. I’ve never doubted you to get the job done.”
He turned his gaze to Gabriel. “You took the bullet for me without question, and returned ready to serve me again. That kind of loyalty does not go unrewarded..” He took another draft on his cigarette. “You both have your talents, and you have your flaws. I need both of you, especially walking into this war, to be capable of being where and what I need you to be, when I need you to be there. You complement each other well, even if you two don’t see it right now.”
“Both of you are going to hold the same position, my left and right hand. You will respect one another, and if, in the rare chance you two are placed together on whatever task I put you on with other pack members and there are questions on pecking rank, then you come to me. No bickering, no squabbling. That shit is going to give the Bloodstones an in to shit on us.”
He paused for a moment. “Understood?”
Gabriel kept an even face, not thrilled, but acknowledging with a nod. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders. “I’ve got it, Rowan.”
Turning to Jason, he scowled a moment, before offering a wry smile and an outstretched hand.
Jason did a far worse job of disguising his ire at the decision, his face twisting in a barely contained snarl. Clenching his fists, he glowered across at Rowan. “That’s not…” he started to growl, but then bit his tongue. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. This wasn’t what he’d earned. He’d taken his place fair and square, and defended it just the same. And it was all for nothing. It wasn’t enough. He deserved it, but it was being tugged out from under him. Different but equal, his ass.
All of this indignant anger passed across Jason’s face in a few tense moments, before he let out a furious growl, turning his head away whilst his veins continued to throb with the ruby light that betrayed his internalised rage more surely than any expression could. “Sure,” he grunted through gritted teeth. “Understood.”
He didn’t return Gabriel’s smile, meeting it only with a scowl, and when he grabbed his hand it was with barely a hint of camaraderie. He’d been told this was how it would be, and so this was how it would be. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he’d follow Rowan’s orders.
For now.
Rowan eyed the pair, though his gaze lingered on Jason the longest. No answer he was capable of giving would have been the right one. Internally he sighed as he pulled himself off the junk he’d propped himself on and walked between the pair, feeling a slight chill as he did so.
This decision was only temporary, he told himself. It is for the war he had to have two strong sides he could count on. A slight growl rose in his throat as he realized what he was doing. This is what would get him killed. This would be what got him usurped.
Rowan’s fists clenched and on the whim, he immediately spun and aimed to clock Gabriel square in the chin.
Carefully watching Jason, recognizing the crimson streaking as the risk it posed, the older werewolf only caught the motion from the corner of his eye. Head snapping to the side from the blow, searing pain racing through his jaw, he released Jason’s hand on reflex as he staggered back. Glancing back as he worked his mouth, probing for all his teeth with his tongue, he noted the Scion leader and raised a brow quizzically.
“I suppose I deserved that,” Gabriel murmured as he straightened. “I apologize for the issues I’ve failed in handling in my absence, and those I created on my return.”
He dipped his head, keeping his gaze lowered.
Jason’s focus was more on Rowan than it was on his new counterpart, and so he caught the clenching of Rowan’s fists in the moments before he swung. He tensed slightly, half anticipating the coming blow to be directed at him for his obvious dissatisfaction. When Gabriel was struck instead, he huffed a half-laugh.
Turning away again as the older wolf murmured his obeisance, Jason took a few paces, sticking his hands in his pockets. The ruby in his veins continued to pulse, but dimmer now, more slowly, as he took deep breaths to reign himself in. Once he trusted himself to speak again, he cast a look over his shoulder. “So, now what?”
Rowan straightened, clenching and unclenching his fist for a moment. “Jason. I’ve made a few calls to parts of the pack that I’ve got out of the area as runners. They should be on their way in. I need you to make sure they’re found before the Bloodstones and bring them to the next hideout. We’ll use the larger warehouse on the east side. Start moving the pack that way. Once that’s done, send out scouts to see if we can catch scent where the dogs are hiding. Preferably newer faces. I also want you to start putting dealers out on the streets of our new location.”
“Gabriel, you stick with me for a bit. I need to catch you up on what’s going on. Come on back with me to the old hideout.”
And with that he started back.
Nodding once to Rowan, then again to Jason with acknowledgement, the older wolf fell in step behind Rowan, working his jaw a moment.