oneandahalfwolf

[oneandahalfwolf]

The young werewolf couldn’t hear the rebel approach, blood rushing through their ears the only sound along with their laboured breathing, but they managed to not flinch as her hand entered their field of view. Mostly because their vision was blurred, and they hadn’t noticed it. But the out of focus blob of white interrupting their staring match with the puddle of black and yellow stalled their downward spiral of self-loathing and their inner berating. Slowly, far too slowly for their liking, grey eyes focused in on the pale hand before them.

For a moment they just stared at it. They knew they should push the hand away. That they should be disgusted that the rebel would even come near them, let alone offer her hand to help them. They should rage and brush her aside. They were Her Majesty’s warrior, her loyal pet. They were supposed to be strong. Not bent over and snivelling like a fucking child.

But they couldn’t find that strength. They felt weak, both physically and mentally. Hell, even emotionally. There was a tiny voice that was screaming, aching, for a hug. However, no matter much they might want it, they knew that wasn’t allowed. That would be somehow worse than being held up by the wall according to their Mistress. Held up by someone, someone who wasn’t their Mistress. Someone who was a rebel. If Mistress found out it would only add to their punishment.

In the end, they were able to compromise. Sort of. With a short exhale through their nose, the warrior took the brunette’s hand and pulled themself upright. They winced a little as their broken body protested in so many ways, but with practiced ease they pushed it aside. The wolf warrior cleared their throat softly and sniffed, letting go of her hand and wiping their palm on their vest instinctively – not even realising it could be seen as an insult.

“Thank you,” they mumbled, not making eye contact as they resisted wringing their hands together. Instead, they awkwardly gave a forced semi-smile before they started down the corridor again, hating that they couldn’t stop their ears and tail from drooping as if they were trying to appear smaller.

No, they had to be good. Be strong.

As they turned the corner the mask of the Queen’s Warrior was (mostly) back in place, air of confidence exuding from their pores as they marched towards the plinth for the next trial.

The waist high plinth was the same as the last three trials, but the corridor beyond was again its own thing. This time it was nothing. As in the entire room a few feet past the plinth was pure blackness. No light whatsoever. No luck getting an insight at what was to come without checking the notebook.

Luckily, in a twisted way, they didn’t have to reapply pressure to the wound in their thigh to get blood as they seemed to have pierced the palm of the hand the rebel hadn’t taken with their claws whilst they were embarrassing themself with their vomiting display. Without much fan fair they placed their still bloody palm onto the flat stone surface. As before, a red glow started to expand down lines etched in the stone from the plinth down towards the walls. However, this time the glow did not reach whatever end point they were supposed to go to. The room remained annoyingly dark. What was lit up via a magical spotlight that came from no source was a thin stone ‘plank’ protruding from the platform like a board from a pirate ship.

And at the end of it, hanging over the nothingness beyond, was a noose.

A pit formed in their stomach. They didn’t need to open the notebook to check. They’d read it back to front after all. Usually, they might verify just to be sure, but the anecdotes on this trial had always sent shivers down their spine. Seeing it in the flesh just made the feeling of dread all the worse. Grey eyes strayed down to the stone plank, the runes carved in it already translated in their mind thanks to the notebook.

‘Leap of Faith.’

Before they could change their mind or hear any protests from the other person in the temple, the teen moved forward and grabbed the noose. In one fluid motion they looped it over their head and around their neck, pulling it tight. It was uncomfortable and scratchy against their skin, nothing like the comfort of their leather collar. Fingers brushed against said collar under the high collar of their vest as they let their arms fall to their sides, using the familiar feeling to project calm and strength throughout their body.

This trial was about faith. They had faith in their collar. In their Mistress. In the mission. Faith was all they had. All they needed.

Closing their eyes the werewolf took the step.

The rope went taught.

The choking feeling was familiar yet worse, the pressure under their jaw rather than around their neck. All breath left them in an instant. It took everything in them not to struggle, to grab the rope and try to escape.

But they had to have faith.

One second they were stepping off the ledge, the next they were hanging, the third their body seemed to slide out of the noose and disappear.

The Wolf Warrior collapsed onto dirt ground, wheezing worse than before as they fought for breath, neck and throat burning. Pale hands came up to paw at the fastly bruising flesh, as if it would help air flow. They yanked at the zip of their vest, pulling at the garment and their cape, panic the only thing filling their senses.

They never wanted to do that again.

Again…

Their head snapped back. They were sitting at the other end of the corridor now, dimly lit torches lighting the area just a little. They could see the plinth and ledge, though there was a hazy film in front – evidence of the darkness being magical in origin. The noose still hung there, though it was actually only a few feet off the ground.

The trial…

It wasn’t technically over.

They had to end it. They couldn’t let the woman go through this experience. It was awful. She might be a rebel but even she didn’t deserve this. No one did. Except perhaps them. They wouldn’t wish this on their worst enemy.

With every ounce of strength that remained in their frail body, the teen werewolf whipped back around and threw themself forward, making sure their body crossed the line that marked the end. Immediately the torches whooshed to full power, chasing away the blackness as the spell causing it was extinguished. The noose fell from the ceiling and disintegrated, ash and woven threads hitting the dirt.

The Queen’s Warrior gave a sob of relief, a few tears splashing into the sandy dirt as they remained face down. They couldn’t move let alone stand, all attention focused on trying to breath through the excruciating pain in their throat.

Their lungs could not catch a break it seemed.

They really hope the next trial didn’t require holding their breath or anything.

“That’s not what I-…”

Misi trailed off as the teen walked away, knowing they weren’t listening anymore. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a calming breath, before following them. The gods were really testing her today, it seemed.

She wasn’t far from them when they doubled over, and her first instinct was to help, but she hesitated, hanging back as she noticed the tension in their body. They were fighting…whatever this was, but she doubted they would let her help if she tried. The sound was terrible, the teen coughing and sputtering as their body shook, but Misi gave them their space, a silent witness.

Finally, it was over, the teen breathing heavily, a puddle of sick on the floor in front of them. Misi was surprised to see that it was nearly identical to the mystery goo she had found in an earlier corridor. She wondered if it was a side effect from one of the trials - the trial of blood, perhaps? - or if it was something else that was causing this. She guessed she’d have to wait and see.

After a few moments, Misi walked over and held out her hand; a wordless offer of help. She didn’t look at them, just waited to see if they would take it, or if they were still upset with her. They might be a fearsome warrior most of the time, but right now they were just a kid.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Wolf was wheezing slightly by the time they made it to the third floor, chest a little tight and legs ever so wobbly. Clara noticed with her enhanced hearing, the rattle of their lungs almost like a maraca in her ears seeing as she was making sure to be extra in tune with her young charge. The were-pire gently nudged the younger werewolf before pointing to their hoodie pocket. The teen’s brows furrowed before they realised what she meant, reaching inside the pocket to collect the everyday inhaler, taking two puffs as they’d been instructed by the doctor. They were still amazed how much the little device helped, perhaps even more than their old medicine. Maybe they should suggest it as an alternative to their Mistress when they got back home.

Grey eyes screwed shut for a second as they shook their head, trying to get that thought out of their head. They were still conflicted about there vs here, but they knew dwelling on it would give them a headache they didn’t want right now. Especially as Clara knocked on a bright yellow door four times. Instinctively and unconsciously they sidled closer to Torcarya, brushing her shoulder slightly with theirs in order to garner some comfort in proximity. They still couldn’t help but flinch slightly when the door opened, faint blush spreading over their cheeks when it was simply an older brunette man on the other side. His smile was wide as he beckoned them forward with a hearty ‘come in, come in’. Wolf had no choice but to follow the adults through the doorway.

The room itself was about the size of one of the smaller training rooms at the Organisation, filled with plain wooden topped metal desks and plastic chairs as well as shelves and cabinets along the walls. At the front was blackboards and whiteboards, currently black, with a brunette woman standing with her own kind smile.

“Please, take a seat.”

Wolf allowed Clara to usher them to one of the desks at the front before she took residence at one behind and to the side of them – out of eyeline to prevent distraction or excess anxiety but close enough to provide help if need be. The teen werewolf was not a fan of the chair, the plastic digging into their bones, but they weren’t about to say anything or cause a scene. That would just get them in trouble. Grey eyes focused on the front of the room as the man joined the woman, clapping his hands together.

“Hello, I am Mr Chesterton and this is Mrs Wright, but you can call us Ian and Barbara.”

“Today is a simple day,” the woman said. “You could call it a training day. We’re just going to check things like your reading and writing comprehension, see if you need any accommodations.”

Wolf didn’t say anything even as they repeated and expanded upon what Clara had said earlier, eyes fixed somewhere between the two. They wanted nothing more than to lock fringers with Torca or hold her jacket to make sure she was still there, that they weren’t alone, but they didn’t dare move as the two brunettes brought some paper and pencils to their tables.

Torcarya smiled politely back at her and nodded. She glanced over to make sure that Wolf was still there, and then followed the adults as they led the way.

“Upstairs” was actually up two flights of stairs, skipping right past the second floor to the third, and then down a short hallway lined with metal lockers and colorful doors. Clara led them to one at the end, on the left, and knocked four times.

Torcarya fidgeted absentmindedly with the end of her braid, both looking forward to- and dreading the lessons. She hadn’t been in real school since before she had run away. The Organization had been more concerned with her combat, stealth, and telekinetic abilities. She could read and write - it would have been difficult to follow instructions on away missions without those skills - and her basic math wasn’t bad, but she didn’t know what else they would test her on. The not-knowing gnawed at her as they waited for the tutors to answer the knocks.

[oneandahalfwolf]

don't ask...

[oneandahalfwolf]

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021) 1.03 • "The Power Broker"

[oneandahalfwolf]

Agatha All Along 1.02 | Circle Sewn With Fate / Unlock Thy Hidden Gate

[oneandahalfwolf]

Agatha All Along I Darkest Hour, Wake Thy Power

[oneandahalfwolf]

[oneandahalfwolf]

Period Drama Appreciation Week 2024 Day 4 ❥ Favorite Relationship

LUCILLE SHARPE and EDITH CUSHING | CRIMSON PEAK (2015) dir. Guillermo del Toro

[oneandahalfwolf]

[oneandahalfwolf]

Wolf peered into the room that was Torcary’s before shifting their attention to their own, a carbon copy but mirrored so the bunks shared a wall. As River spoke they shuffled inside, nodding along with the rules whilst their eyes took in their new digs. It was bare bones indeed, but they weren’t going to complain. It was better than the cell. Plus, they were used to basics. Some of the safe houses they’d used over the many years had been nothing more than a room with a mattress and a bucket. Even back home they didn’t always have their own room. Sometimes their room was their Mistress’ room, or just the medical bay. The werewolf wasn’t about to voice any of that to the rebels, or give them any gratitude. Even if part of them wanted to, the women believed this to be a common courtesy, the very least that could be done. Best not let them know it was far more than some of they’d been given. They didn’t want pity, especially not right now.

The idea of a schedule didn’t bother them, after all that’s pretty much all they had back at the Organisation. Training. Eating. Playtime. Sleeping. Rinse and repeat. Even missions had an agenda. So they had no arguments over what time to go to bed and what time to wake up. If they did, they’d not be listened to probably, which wasn’t anything new. Instead of saying anything they fished the red inhaler out of their pocket and placed it on the pillow of their bed. They didn’t know why, something about making it lived in perhaps.

They exited the room back into the hall as their friend asked her question, brows furrowing as grey eyes looked between the women and their head tilted slightly as they also wondered what was next. The young werewolf didn’t have the same reservation about sitting around and doing nothing, so they would just follow and do as they were told. As they should. They were a good dog after all.

“Now we’re going to take you upstairs and show you where you’ll be getting your lessons,” Clara responded. “You’ll meet our tutors and with their help we’ll see where your education is at along with any accommodations you might need.” The brunette smiled. “Then we’ll make sure to get you some lunch before anything else.”

Torcarya nodded along silently as Clara explained. The rooms appeared small, but there was a shelf-like bunk attached to one wall, and what she presumed was a closet-like bathroom on the other. The bunk didn’t look particularly comfortable, but anything was better than sleeping on the floor again. There was a very obvious camera set up in one upper corner, which explained why the bathroom was completely enclosed.

“Now the rules,” River announced. “You already know the main one - no violence towards others. The second one is similar: no violence towards yourselves. Third, no weapons or potential weapons unless under supervision. Lights out at nine, rise and shine at seven; lessons in the morning, exercise in the afternoon. And most importantly, Clara and I are here to help you - let us. We’re here to teach, to guide, to listen, and to support you. I know this is going to be a rough transition for the pair of you. Let us make it easier.”

Torcarya didn’t know what to say, so she just didn’t say anything for a moment. Then it occurred to her that it was still pretty early in the day, and Missy had said lessons and whatnot wouldn’t start until the following day.

“…so…what now?” she asked, looking around the room and then back to River. She’d spent three weeks bored out of her mind in the force-field room. She really hoped she wouldn’t be expected to sit and do nothing for hours at a time again now.

[oneandahalfwolf]

SFX make up done by Lucy Rowley for the @NetflixUK series @CursedNetflix last year on Daniel Sharman. Designed by Erika Okvist (source)

[oneandahalfwolf]

I guess this is what would happen if a werewolf bit a skeleton.

[oneandahalfwolf]

The Night Agent s01e10: “Are you [good]?”

[oneandahalfwolf]

OUATTOBER | Day 12: Prompt C: Power

Cruella is not done with Ruby just yet...

What happened next: ❎NSFW! (back-up link, lower-res)

[oneandahalfwolf]

THE WHEEL OF TIME | 2x05

[oneandahalfwolf]

THE WHEEL OF TIME | 2x05

[oneandahalfwolf]

THE MARVELS (2023) dir. Nia DaCosta