#piece: Selene thrown down by Argus

[entrappedinmarble]

Selene thrown down by Argus (1886), Ferdinand Keller, oil on canvas, 76 x 110.5 cm.

Selene thrown down (1886) - Ferdinand Keller

[majingojira]

Halloween Versus Battle

For a while now, I’ve sort of wanted Death Battle to include Buffy Summers as a contestant so I could see their numbers, but most opponents for her are either too weak (Grimm) or too powerful (Hellboy, Hellsing) by large margins.   But I think I found one for a good fight:  Selene from the Underworld movies. 

So, how would they fare in a Death Battle?!

Let’s go over the three major categories: Offense, Defense, Skills.  

Offense:  Selene has been shown to be able to snap necks, break bones, shatter stone, and performed a classic Mortal Kombat spine-ripper fatality in her most powerful form.   Her biggest move is flipping a fan by ramming it with her shoulder. She was running at top speed at the time building momentum, so there is an asterisk to it. After that, she once kicked Marius, a very large werewolf, about 30ft into a glacier which he was shoved into.  A very strong showing.  Buffy, by contrast, has more lifting feats to her name. Generally, her blows don’t just knock people over, they send them flying.  20 to 30ft in one poor schmuck’s case.  And that’s while holding back. She’s lifted reinforced concrete blocks larger than herself, metal portcullises, steel girders (easily), decapitated a foe with a cymbal, sliced off a woman’s arm with a shard of glass, bent and broke steel prison bars, kicking vamps through brick walls, causing a metal loading garage gate to literally explode into pieces with one hit, shoved her foot through a large demon’s skull, among others.  

Buffy’s physical strength has been compared to Spider-Man, and while not that intense, she is no slouch in the strength department at all. 

I don’t have the math skills to compare that all, but my guess, Buffy has a slight advantage, but not enough to confer an overall advantage.  Next up on offense is weaponry.   Selene has a lot to pull from.  Two Berattea handguns, Walther P99s - both pistols using 9x19mm Parabellum or .40 S&W rounds.  Basically between 9 and 10mm bullets.  Buffy was one felled with a heart shot by a Beretta 92FS and though the bullet didn’t fully penetrate the heart, it got close enough and did enough damage to put her down.  Selene also carries throwing stars (some of which carry explosives), grenades, and knives.   However, every single weapon Selene has is hampered by one thing: most of it is either silver, silver-nitrate based, or silver plated.  Even the grenades are more about getting Silver Nitrate spread around than sheer explosive force.  Silver is a much softer metal compared to lead and other bullet-forming materials.  Meaning they have less penetration and losing the blade’s edge faster. These are great against vampires and werewolves, and some can still kill humans, but ... they are weaker.    Worse, she packs Silver Nitrate bullets, which are basically high-speed paintballs. Lower penetration, and designed to poison the target.  Buffy has a plethora of weaponry at her disposal, depending on what she wants to take with her that day.  I’ll limit the list to the most common things she uses:  Wooden Stakes and Knives; Swords and Axes (mid, large, and throwing); Crossbows;  A Rocket Launcher (M136 AT4) (she’s used it TWICE so I’m counting it); The Scythe ...   The Scythe is OP.  With that thing, she’s deflected bullets, lasers (!), and spells.  She’s cut through superhumanly tough targets as well as slicing through the side of a futuristic armored car.  In one instance, a vampire with Slayer memories used it to cut off the head of Mayor Richard Wilkin’s demon form, killing him instantly. In Buffy’s hands, it’s harmed Maloker, the Old One that created vampires.   The wooden stake can punch in and out of concrete without losing its edge.  And her last weapon is ... the environment.  She will use whatever is around her to enact any advantage she can get.  This includes, but is not limited to, kicking a vampire into the broken branch of a tree to stake it.  

Buffy wins weaponry hands down.  She has a shorter range, but the raw power output overwhelms what Selene is capable of. Or, to put it another way, Selene’s most damaging weapons are her knives and shuriken.  Buffy’s are the Scythe and a Rocket Launcher.  Between Offense and Defense, we have Speed, which aids both.  Now, with Selene’s fully upgraded speed being shown as ‘blur movement’, it might seem she has this in the bag, but Buffy is no slouch either.    Aside from blocking a laser blast while midair from less than 20ft away, she’s dodged lightning at a similar range, deflected pistol shots within 5ft of her being fired, dodged automatic fire, caught crossbow shots from the same range, and set off a bear trap and escaped it by sheer reaction speed.   She’s run roughly/around 60mph in a straight run, which is a lot faster than many people give credit for.   And, really, a lot of her epic speed is over short distances under that blur cloak.  The actual distance over time speed value is remarkably slower.  Still, Selene has the speed advantage, but not the reaction speed.   Because Buffy has a Spider-Sense. In addition to being able to detect vampires (something she’s not very good at initially and has to focus to use) she can use her senses to alert her to danger well before it strikes.  Be it incoming attacks, invisible attackers, or fighting while blinded.  Early on this required a bit of concentration, and to this day, she still needs some focus to attain it (if she’s off her game it doesn’t work so well), but it happens on the turn of a dime rather than needing a few breathes to focus.  So, Between that and the laser deflection/lightning dodging, I’d say they’re equal.   Now we come to durability. There are two categories: Recovery and Armor.  Buffy wins Armor, Selene wins Recovery.  Buffy has had buildings fall on her, taken blows from building wrecking foes (literal gods), and fallen from heights similar to what Selene has done and walked away with no effect.  She was also once in the blast radius of a house-leveling explosion and was just blown away by it (She is tiny after all).  She was once thrown into a stone coffin, shattering it and while it hurt like hell, she wasn’t killed by it.  Nor did being stabbed through the kidney from the back and out the front do more than get an “SSSSS--Aaaah” reaction from her for a minute or so and she was up and fighting again.   She also once blocked a vampire’s cleaver attack with her own arm, and it just cut her. No loss of her hand, just a cut It was a relatively fresh vamp, but still a vamp.   Her recovery rate is very slow but constant.  Aside from the stabbed and got up thing (which she has multiple instances of), she has the endurance to fight for days and can recover from deeper stab wounds (like to the gut) within a day.  Slow, but steady.  To add to this, she’s never bled out from these wounds she’s taken. Including several full impalements.  Selene, being a vampire, has a weakness to silver and decapitation/extreme damage. So she can shrug off most blows that don’t damage her in that way, but they do wear her down.  Instead of outright resisting the blows, she regenerates from them.  This can, when she’s recently fed, force bullets out of her body.   But this recovery is based on how much she’s fed and on what she’s fed on lately.  So, it’s a lot faster than Buffy’s healing factor, but it is not unlimited like Buffy’s, who continues to heal until you put her down.   So they both have their ups and downs here.   Skills are where it gets tricky.   Selene is the best of her elite fighting unite or ‘Death Dealers’ and can think tactically when needing to.  However, her tactics are geared towards her primary foes: Lycans, and later, humans and vampires.  She’s 700 years old and training that time.  She’s trained in Hand to Hand combat (styles unknown, primarily Aikido, Jet Kune Do, and Filipino Kali) as well as with her weaponry.  Acrobatics training is also on the table, along with squad tactics.  Buffy ... Buffy cheats.  Seel all slayers are connected, mentally on a subconscious level.  In the novel “Slayer” by Kiersten White, which is canon with the primary Buffy lore, it’s revealed that all slayers share a dream space.  From this, they get prophetic warnings, as well as share the subconscious memories of past slayers.  This means that (once trained and honed) they aren’t so much learning new fighting moves but remembering them. Given what little we can determine from the first Slayer and the Shadowmen, they likely date back to the earliest parts of human civilization.  I’m going to go with Göbekli Tepe as a starting ballpark estimate.  Which means we’re talking about 12 THOUSAND years. Almost 20 times the experience of Selene.  That’s the upper limit of what this could be.  The lower limit would be pre-Babylonian, some 5 thousand years ago. More than 7 times Selene’s experience.  And it’s shown too, as Buffy has defeated vampires nearly as old (Dracula, 600) or far older (The Master -- well over 1000 years at least) than Selene.  So, Buffy has a wider variety of skills (and weapons she is good with) to call upon.   Her actual fighting style is ... improvisational.  That’s the thing with Buffy. Her fighting repertoire is so broad it’s hard to know what she may throw at an opponent, and it keeps them on their toes.  That includes her habit of treating the locations she fights in like she were Jackie Chan.  Only Aikido and Jiujitsu are mentioned as fighting styles she knows, but she also has a habit of critiquing fight choreography in movies (shown on an old Kung Fu flick).  In Season 5 it is mentioned that she and Giles are working on a hybrid fighting style of their own devising.   And even if you argue that Selene is stronger, and faster than Buffy herself, that’s not much of a perk as she has defeated many foes of greater power than her own.  This includes The Master (a Vampire older than Selene),  Slayer Vampires (Slayers turned into Vampires), Demons far larger than herself,  The Hellgod Glory (With some prep work).   She has also done battle directly with Old Ones/True Demons.  Primarily Maloker, the progenitor of Vampires, and Olvikan, the thing the Mayor became in season 3.  And in Season 11 and 12, I mean that directly.  As in “Ride and slice” attack and harm them. Monsters 20 to 50ft tall or more at the very least. Maloker at full size would be a worthy foe of Godzilla. She fought it, survived, and even managed to hurt it.   Selene ... doesn’t have anything like that.  When she faces a foe stronger than her, she doesn’t outsmart, outmaneuver and somehow survive or win. She gets her ass kicked until she gets a power-up and then outpowers her foe. For all her tactical thinking, it assumed inferiority or at least equal of her foes.  Things of greater power are insurmountable.   Not a good comparison for Selene, and there’s something else that puts Buffy over the top. There’s also something about Buffy that Selene just doesn’t really have a counter for. Buffy’s Mouth.  Buffy has a sharp tongue and keeps her foes off-balanced as best she can with a barrage of quick-witted comments. And for all Selene’s tactical intelligence, her major arcs come from her being manipulated and fooled for over 700 years.  Selene is stoic, driven, and ... a ripe target for Buffy’s style of quipping and sardonic comments.   She’d have a field day with her outfit alone.   This would easily put Selene off her game, in a field where she’s already lagging behind.   Buffy also demonstrates some mental toughness.  Though she has been affected by the hypnotic powers of some vampires, it’s really only because she has a reason to give in to the influence (like any real-world hypnosis).   Finally, it should be mentioned that Vampires in Underworld are ... different from most.  They are shown to die from severe physical trauma -- so decapitation and shoving any weapon through the heart would kill Selene regardless of its make.  She also almost bled out once from massive internal injuries.  Selene’s upgrades have removed the weaknesses to Sunlight and Wolfsbane, but this fact remains:  Selene is easier to kill than the vampires Buffy normally fights in a physical sense.  And the difference in weaknesses is not something that would throw Buffy off her game at all.  She’s dealt with three different varieties of vampires: the standard Vampire, “New Rules” Vampires (which are stronger than classic ones as well as having the ability to shapeshift into certain animals and mist), and Turok’Han “Neanderthal Vampires” who have reinforced chests to make them resistant to staking and they largely ignore holy objects.    So having a “New” Variety of vamp to deal with is no big deal for her.  Buffy herself is still human, so wounds that would kill a human quickly would kill her.  She is denser than a normal human, so doing that is not so easy.   Buffy Summers has clear advantages in weaponry, reaction speed, durability, skill, and mental fortitude.  It seems to me that Buffy can easily send Selene to the Underworld. 

[selenelavellan]

I'm still here!! BTS for the Concert AU?

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]

Limiting this to one of the bits I wrote, let’s go with “You don’t have to Stay” which is one of my favorites that I’ve written overall, and is a nice piece with just Des and Selene together.

Under a cut for length?

“You don’t have to stay.”

He mumbles it into the back of her neck, even as his arms tighten around her middle, his own conflicts coming to light as the sun drifts through their closed shutters.

Des isn’t really used to partners that he has an emotional connection with. He’s finally spent the night with Selene, who he’s shared a home with for years already but never been sexually intimate with in a non-teasing sort of way. It’s new, and it should be familiar ground, because hello it’s sex and that’s like his whole ‘thing’ but he’s nervous and clingy and scared in a way he hasn’t felt since he was younger than he should have been. And while maybe if he had woken up to an empty bed like he had expected, like he had assumed she would do because it’s Selene and she runs that’s what she does when she gets scared, he would have felt more in control of the situation. Because he expected her to be scared and ashamed and to avoid ever bringing it up again and sure it would hurt but all he really expected was the memory, and all he hoped for was to still have a friend in the morning.

Selene lets out a soft sigh, shifting until she is facing him. She places a light ‘boop’ on his nose in lieu of an actual response.

Des’s face scrunches up, his forehead gently bumping into hers. “M'just saying. Usually you’re making breakfast for my bedmates and finding them a bus route by now. You’re not like…” he makes a vague sort of grunting noise “You’re not obligated to stay. If you don’t want to.”

“What if I do want to?” She mumbles back. “Are you going to kick me out of bed?”

But then she stays, and she’s happy and she’s still there and she isn’t leaving him or avoiding him or ashamed of him and it’s giddy and he’s used to being happy in bed and laughing and smiling and having fun but this is morning after fun and that’s new and wonderful and unexpected, and it’s the first time he really sees how differently his life feels when they’re together. 

Des is used to sex, and Des is used to partners, and Des is used to Selene. But the combination is new.

Des has never been one to turn down anything new.

“Never.” Des grins.

“Good.” Selene grins back, twining her legs through his.

Selene is also more comfortable than she really expected to be. She had plenty of sex with Carina, but that had always been a little tense. Always felt like trying to keep up, like trying to impress her, like trying to get a good score on a test she’d never see the grade for. There’s no pretense with Des; he’s seen her at her best, and he’s seen her at her absolute worst and there’s no need to pretend to be something other than exactly who she is. She doesn’t have to be the best version of herself 100% of the time around him, and it’s just a relief, to be able to be a bit of a ‘bad’ person and not feel judged for it. 

It’s comfortable, then. The two of them, alone in their bed with only the sound of their breaths and the cars passing by outside. Des’s long fingers carefully stroke up and down Selenes back, soft and gentle over the scratch marks he left the night before. Too hurried, too concerned one of them might chicken out, might change their mind in the middle and everything would stop. And he would have stopped, of course, if she had asked him to. But she hadn’t, she’d been just as swept up in the moment as he had been; pressing each other into walls and furniture, clothing articles being torn and thrown without care, fighting until it wasn’t fighting anymore. War turned to love, old arguments washed away in moans and whispered apologies and oaths sworn into skin through gritted teeth and bites hard enough to leave a reminder in the morning light that it wasn’t just a dream.

Different, somehow, from his usual encounters.

I don’t have a lot of commentary for this bit, except to say that sometimes these two just need some rough loving and it’s good that they can turn to one another for it, y’know? I’m also a sucker for the whole arguing turning into declarations of bottled of emotions trope and that’s hard to pull off when both characters are non-confrontational and would rather just sulk in corners on opposite ends of a castle for a few thousand years than just say what’s on their minds... <___<

In a good way though. Old wounds healed by his healer; still her even when she’s trying so desperately not to be.

Again, Selene spends a lot of time and energy trying to be who she thinks the world wants her to be rather than true to herself. Des is good at seeing through her BS though, and better at seeing that if she just relaxed she’s already everything anyone could ask for. (at least in his eyes, but he is pretty love smitten in this piece so I’ll cut him a little slack about it)

“Where do we go from here?” He wonders aloud.

Will this become a regular part of their routine? Is he supposed to stop seeing other people? Will this change what they’ve had together for so long?

“Well,” Selene says, rolling away from him and stretching her arms up over her head. “Breakfast sounds like a good start to me. Or coffee. Or maybe clothes first, if you wanna go out to eat.”

Des: this was fantastic, but also is this like a Thing now? I have questions.Selene: Yes but I am emotionally and mentally unprepared for that discussion pls caffeine first.

Des snorts, pulling her back to him quickly enough that she lets out an undignified squeak.

“Breakfast sounds great,” he sighs, face nuzzling into the sensitive dip in her hip he discovered the night before, enjoying the way she melts now as surely as she had the night before. “But…could we stay here a little longer first?”

Selene agrees, fingers threading through his hair in a pleasantly reassuring manner as she settles back into their bed.

Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, I won’t screw this up too.

EVERYONE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED AND SELF-CONSCIOUS SAP AND I LOVE THEM.

[ragtagdungeoncrawlers]

CHAPTER TWO

She awoke in a bundle of frayed nerves and headaches, blearily wincing out under her shelf of hair. The tip of her pointed, long ears pierced through her hair and stuck out, trapped on the outside of her hood like a small shrub in a high wind. One eye, the one that could open and focus right now, surveyed the blurred room while her stomach called out for water and probably more ale, if she were being honest with herself. When they locked onto Aether, who sat in a chair, reading a small book, she sat up quickly, ignoring the nausea, and pointed at him with an accusatory finger.

“Who are you?” She demanded, all disheveled feelings retreating, replaced by innate defensiveness and self-preservation. “What are you doing? Who are you?”

“Selene, I presume?” he said, chuckling slightly.

“That’s Aether,” Calvin said helpfully, grinning at her. “He and I are partners… for the time being.”

“You’re a kid.” Selene had said that simply. It was pretty obvious he was young.

“I am young, but certainly old enough to go on an adventure! In fact, my brother—“ he began.

“—I don’t care about your brother,” she snapped.

“I’m Aether,” he said, bowing slightly. As he was still seated, it was a strange move.

“Half-Elf.” Again, Selene had that “simply put” thing down pat.

Aether nodded and smiled. “Well met.”

The door opened with a brief knock, swinging wide to reveal the barrel chested frame of the imposing bartender, green skin glinting gold in the candlelight. He walked in casually, as though he owned the place, and squatted down next to Selene, beaming at her.

“Your head looks okay, you had another tumble last night,” he offered, propping her up. She attempted to remove her elbows from his hands and feigned anger, but between her familiarity with the man, his overwhelming aura of kindness, and her wicked hangover, she was standing in no time. Bill disappeared behind the door and entered again immediately with a large tankard of water.

“Drink that,” he said.

“Ale?” She answered, a ray of hope shining in her otherwise bloodshot eyes.

“Water, with the amount you drink, you should be a seven hundred year old raisin,” he chuckled.

Calvin widened his eyes at this and his mouth dropped open, but Selene quickly mentioned she was nowhere near that old. Bill was simply jesting. The bartender slapped her shoulder and wished her well, leaving on the pretense of giving the new teammates time to get to know each other.

As the door clicked, so did Bill’s parting words.

“Teammates?” Selene crowed gutturally. “I work best alone. Surely Bill is confused, that man has broken up one too many barfights.”

“And you’ve probably instigated the majority of them,” Aether added helpfully. Still smiling his stupid big grin. “Alas, we’re mates for now. It’s a great job. We look out for you, you look out for us. We’re practically being paid to be friends.”

“Aether!” Calvin yelled, taking a step forward and gesturing wildly.

“It’s a joke,” the taller one chirped, standing up slowly. “I’m a performer and he is known to do a bit of magic, but we need someone with your particulars. Someone with finesse and discretion, someone who could help us navigate the areas around town.”

“Bill’s idea,” Calvin said, “But we would certainly accept your help gladly. Please consider this arrangement.”

“As long as we’re back at sundown. And you’re buying my drinks.”

Aether blanched at her remark, “Sadly, there isn’t enough coin in the world.”

 Hours later the group found themselves in front of a towering man in uniform, who identified himself as Dorgor the Knight Commander. Next to him with a shock of red hair and a large beard was a dwarf in plated armor. They were arguing amongst themselves quietly, hissed words and vibrant gestures thrown about like alfalfa sprouts at stables.

“They couldn’t manage. The three of them would die in seconds,” the dwarf spat out, unconcerned with volume.

The Knight Commander straightened his spine and looked at the three.

“Our men spotted a band of cultists near by. We’re busy running the guards and there seem to be no groups free to investigate. I’m hesitant to send you three, but I might have no choice,” Knight Commander Dorgor responded. The dwarf next to him nodded furiously.

“None meant for offense,” the dwarf explained. “You seem capable. I simply don’t think you’d survive.”

Aether chuckled, “Well put. We’ll be on our way, sorry to disappoint.”

Calvin stamped his foot impetuously. “No!”

Selene groaned loudly.

“We have to help,” Calvin exclaimed with a sweeping motion. “This town has been very hospitable. We can’t let there be a lingering squad of cultists around ready to lay siege at any moment. They’ll raid the village and it’ll be because we didn’t stop them. It’s not right!”

“It wouldn’t be our fault,” Aether countered, looking to Selene. “Technically, the guards are responsible for guarding. If they fail to do so, that’s kind of on them, really.”

Dorgor held out three satchels of coin. “Here. Payment. Now you are conscribed into service. Your guards now.”

“Oh,” Aether sighed, “This is going to be a bother, isn’t it.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” came Selene’s defeated response.

The Knight Commander issued them on their way, informing them of the two waiting for them. A paladin and her charge would be at the gates at sundown, ready to meet anyone else ready for the job. The rest of the day was theirs to enjoy, as the night would surely bring its own strains of despair.

Aether had lost track of his two teammates in spectacular fashion, wondering where to they could have run. If his brief time with Selene was any help, she would be three mugs in at Bill’s, while Calvin was probably off kissing a flower or something. They would meet up under cover of night and explore the camp’s suspected location, and Aether was not looking forward to it.

When the sun had cradled the horizon and the sounds of night began slowly seeping in, Andromeda, Artemis, and Selene had gathered by the gate, all looking a bit apprehensive.

“How much did he pay you?” Selene asked, her even tone betrayed by eager eyes. “Like, a hundred gold pieces?”

Andromeda cocked her head and blinked a few times. “I didn’t count.”

“Greetings!” Calvin said with a wave and he turned a corner and reached the three. Aether was slowly trailing behind, a lyre in his hands. He plucked away a sad dirge, stepping in time to the music like a funeral march.

“Guess we should get this over with, my dears.”

Artemis piped up with a displeased look, “You’re a musician, shouldn’t you be inspiring?”

“Sorry,” he answered, “my bardic inspiration was all used up chatting up some locals. Would a limerick do?”

It would not, as it turned out.

They made it through the forest quickly, following Selene’s lead. Still a bit drunk from her day-drinking, the elven urchin was still swift and precise. Behind her marched the Triton, swords drawn and at the ready. Next to her was the platinum knight so radiant Calvin thought he saw her almost glowing. Behind them came the bard, careful to step over crunchy looking leaves, even though it took all his willpower not to step directly on them. They just looked so crunchy, it would be a satisfying sound, no doubt.

“Wait!” Selene hissed, holding up a hand. “Ahead.”

They crept to the edge of the forest, eyes darting around for any signs of movement. Through a gap in the woods they could, if climbing on top of each other, get a straight view ahead to a small clearing beyond the thickest of the trees. Selene and Calvin huddled close, clocking the positions of a small group of reptilian creatures, relaxing around a small fire, letting the silver light of the moon break through the trees bask their copper and sienna skins.

“Kobolds,” Selene whispered, pulling out a bow and notching a smooth arrow on its taut string. “And some mercenary looking folk. Most likely their commanders.”

“Kobolds are intelligent,” Aether whispered, “They could be the commanders, don’t be so speciest. They’re like gnome versions of Dragonborn types. You wouldn’t say gnomes aren’t—“

“Now is absolutely not the type, Half-Elf,” Andromeda countered, scales glinting blue and green in the forest’s dim moonlight. “We have duties.”

“Don’t say it!” Calvin snapped in a loud whisper.

“Duties. Duty. Doody.” Aether chuckled.

As he laughed, Selene stood up, still staring ahead. “Well, so much for a sneak attack. They’re running to grab their weapons.”

Artemis grabbed her shield and fixed her grip on a dazzling sword, charging forward without hesitation. Andromeda ran past, determination spreading across her face in a stoic gaze and grim frown. Picking up a few stones, Calvin stumbled forward, his smaller frame deftly passing over the natural terrain like he was one with nature.

Phitt.

The arrow from Selene’s bow carved through the air with a swift ringing sound, piercing through one of the mercenary’s sides as he bent to grab his sword. A guttural howl erupted from his chest as he spun around like a spinning coin, faceplanting in the ground. From her distant grounds of vantage, Selene notched another arrow and steadily moved forward at a steady, methodical pace, all traces of intoxication vanished.

“Let’s finish this quickly, I have a date tomorrow morning!” Aether cried out, darting to the side of the mercenary group. He released an arrow, which went wide, sticking in the ground like a fork in steak. “Do better than me, please.”

His words carried across the wind, silvery and ethereal tendrils wrapping around Andromeda’s wrists as an arcane energy brewed around them. The remaining mercenaries had grabbed their weapons and swung toward the blue-skinned fighter, who dodged all but one of the blows. Reeling a bit from the slice of a blade, she growled and lunged forward, swinging both of her blades. The silver energy cackled as she swung, seemingly letting her blades find better purchase between the slips of their armor.

The blades cleanly slipped through the armor and sunk into the man’s shoulder several inches, the blades meeting at the center of his chest. He stood for a second more before he fell apart from the inside out and tumbled to the ground in two pieces.

Without hesitation, Andromeda turned and leaped at the other man, bringing her blade front and center like a dagger, aiming to pierce the man straight through his stomach. Artemis blocked his wide swing with a shield, halting his arc and leaving his center open to the Triton’s blade. He twisted away but a stone ricochetted off his forehead while green vines erupted from the ground and held his other arm open. Calvin’s arm was connected to the ground, his druidic power fueling the accelerated growth of nature. Tied up and wide open thanks to the two, the Triton’s blade sank cleanly into the bandit mercenary’s center.

Meanwhile, Aether was holding his hands up, now on the other side of the battle, cooing at the Kobolds and distracting them from the fight.

“We’re friends. These people you were following? They’re no match for us. We’re strong, come with us,” Aether said. Calvin paused and turned to his compatriot, confused. Common wasn’t what he was hearing, instead it was a language of guttural hisses, grunts, and gnashing. He recognized it as the language of Dragons. How Aether knew Draconic was beyond him, but Aether did happen to express knowing five languages already. Just another curiosity about the equally arresting and infuriating man.

The Kobolds regarded him carefully, holding their weapons at the ready. A brief moment passed as Artemis, Selene, and Andromeda finished their battle and turned attention to the small sentient lizards.

The Kobolds immediately turned tail and began running through the trees, terror on their face. Only one stayed put, looking at Aether with a curious fascination.

“You… speak me?” The Kobolds said, confused and delighted, “You are dragon? Mom?”

Aether’s use of Draconic was very lacking, but he found the word ringing true in his ears, memories of his Dragonborn tutor coming to him in this moment.

“I’m Mom,” he said, holding his hand out to the Kobold. “I’m Dragon Mom.”

The Kobold sat directly on the ground and began wagging his tail, smiling at Aether, who turned to his group with a wide swing of his arm, saying in their universal language, “This is my daughter, and I love her very much.”

[halfbreed-hawkins-blog]

Penny wondered faintly as she sat on the edge of the mattress how everything came to this, when this house felt as much as a trap as Hogwarts did, and when the walls seems to crash in on her, when it felt like a weight around her neck, dragging her closer and closer to the bottom of a vast iced lake. She was drowning under the expectations of those below, of her family all awaiting, of Helle arguing with Atalanta in the door frame, of her mother, wide-eyed and terrified and looking every bit of mad. She tangled her fingers into her hair, squeezing and pulling at the fine curls, trying to tap into some solace that nothing here would change, not between any of them, because she had options didn’t she? That’s what they said, they said she was different because she had a choice. But did she ever really have a choice in this life of being anything but the champion in the wizarding world, the scrapegoat for a world that hated her kind even though she wasn’t truely their kind, the girl-who-wasn’t and the girl-who-was and feeling so small. Trapped in a body whose blood was too sullied and a magic that wasn’t strong enough to naturally tap into the Blessing her family had for centuries. Is this was squibs felt? Was it even comparable? She wasn’t sure but as she squeezed out another tear the door slammed open, the aruging spilled into her solace, her own personal space in a house that was more of a hell.

Then she strode inward, every inch of her powerful, her gait long, her chin high, her eyes the blue of the ocean. It was a different shade from her own, and from Hectors, or even their great-grandmothers, it was a shade of near gray, like staring between the vein of the universe between the blue of the sky and the white of the clouds. Entrapping, encasing, and encompassing. She was as vast as the tree’s she ran through, and as strong as the pine that shook under the wind. The woman before her was more wolf than woman, and more sharpened steel than simple strength. She carried no wand and yet her magic was almost as powerful as Lawrence’s with a wand, she studied books and practiced every skill avaliable to her, from sewing to hunting to magic. Atalanta Hawkins had shoes to fills, massive boots created by a five-three woman of 117 years and near blind that still commanded the respect of even the most rabid of rouge wolves. There was loyality and strength built from years and Atalanta had a quarter of a century to acheive what Althea was leaving her after over triple that in service of their people. Penny looked upon in her mild awe, and she stood from the mattress, wiping her eyes and trying to appear brave in front of her model image of strength. She never had a doubt that if Atalanta was allowed into Hogwarts, that she would have been a Head Girl, a Quidditch Captain, a Gryffindor and deeply celebrated. Every bone in her body was built for bravery and boldness and Penny often wished for an iota of that which Atalanta had in spades. So she straightened up, because Atalanta was becoming more than her eldest cousin, she was becoming the Leader of the Clan, the Alpha of the Hawkins Packs, and someone other leaders within the werewolf clans and packs people would speak to. She deserved respect.

“You’ve caused quite a stir you know Penny,” her voice was melodic and crisp, “Helle wants to drag you out of here by your hair and simply bite you for saying what you said and I’m pretty sure Linus would hold you down.” she raised a singular eyebrow.

“I know that I’m not scared of them,” she shot back, and honestly she wasn’t. She couldn’t take Helle in a fist-fight to be sure, but she had a handle on wandless magic and it wouldn’t be hard to confine either without hurting them. “I don’t care what they think, or what they want me to become. I refuse to be used anymore!” her voice caught at the end.

“Is that what you think we’re doing?” she sounded almost hurt and Penny felt small before her but nodded furiously.

“Helle and Linus want me to force my change and prevent me from going back to Hogwarts. They want me radacalized to their side and become a werewolf and join their fucking army. You! You and Grandmama want me to remain a halfbreed and stay the course. Daniel and the others want me to join them and chose my own path! My peers at Hogwarts are waiting for me to Turn at any moment, to let wolves loose in the hallways. They are also waiting for me to Turn disloyal, to turn you all in, to join the Ministry against them, against you!” she was panting now, not realizing that she was yelling in the face of her eldest cousin, and that tears were streaming down from her eyes and that panic building in her chest. “Doesn’t anyone care what I want! What I wished for? What I ought to do with my life. I’m not a goddamn pawn, I’m not a fucking pup. I can chose for myself who and what to be. To be a witch, to be a wolf. Everyone is pushing for me to make a descion about my future when I’ve never been asked what I want.” she whispered, eyes clouded with tears, arms wrapped around her frame as if to keep herself together in the shadows of her room, with the broken chair in the corner from where she’d thrown it in her last fit of rage, with the holey blankets and the recently patched up Hogwarts uniforms and thrice used books. Where her mother’s broom was shining in the corner and the faded poster of the Holyhead Harpies team smiled at her from a bright photograph in the corner along with other smaller photos scattered around and a singular everlasting and everliving white rose sat in the corner with her father’s handwriting leaving her a note to please remember to sweep the front porch while he was at work and that he ‘love you My Pup’ dated just a few weeks before his death. The room stank with far flung memories and dreams, of nightmares and where she hide from the abuse when the forest was just too far. She sobbed to herself, taking a step back when Atalanta’s fingertips touched her chin.

“What do you want, Penny?”

The pair looked up, and there was Selene, her robes were shabby but her starry eyes shown through her face, her mouth was still proud, her fingers still strong, but she’d lose that bright aura Penny remembered from her childhood and longed for still. She was a walking ghost, nothing like the unbroken lioness she once called Mother, and who was able to handle the stress, abuse, bills, the ostrasization because Edgar was there every moment of the way. Without that, with two small children, with the hatred of the world bearing her down and everything piling up Law and Penny watched as she broke before their eyes and the smiles left, the laughter rang hallow and the world began to drift apart. When Penny was seven and her mother couldn’t remember her brithday because she was so deep in her own grief and Penny walked all the way to the Hawkins Compound, trudging through secrative forest paths and slipping between rocks and trees, and three hours later being collected in Althea’s arms and being rocked to sleep because “Mama doesn’t see me Grandmama.” and she sobbed and sobbed. Selene who relied on her children to keep her sane, and her children who relied on each other to attempt to raise the other, who relied on books, and the articles and their never-quite-there Clan who didn’t realize how bad things got until Lawrence came begging for money to go off to Hogwarts for the first year. By then it was too late, and had gone on far too long for Selene to ever regain the independce she lost in her co-dependency on Edgar– and really maybe that was what Penny hated the most about her Mother. Not that Penny called her that often, if they saw each other, if Selene was having a good day and remembered she had a halfbreed daughter who bore the world without her guidance. Oh yes, Penny loved her Mother with a strong feiceness as much as she hated her weakness. Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time Selene had asked Penny what she wanted.

“Aunt Selene, this honestly doesn’t concern you, please go lie down,” Atalanta whispered, reaching for her arm to pull her from the room. “Come, I’ll get you a bit of fizzy water.” Penny looked up in silence and Selene met her eyes.

“Do you truely believe I have no say in whether or not my daughter will quit school and Turn into a werewolf?” her voice was deadly quiet and for one surreal moment, Penny remembered the angelic woman who literally fought and parried her way out of the London Riots with a child on each arm. Valient. Vacant.

“You never cared before, and I’m an adult, why shouldn’t I chose my own fate, for once.”

"Your Father would not approve of this.” Penny flinched and snarled at Selene.

“Papa isn’t here anymore, he’s gone and the world is mad. He can’t tell me what to do anymore, and I’d like to think that he would be proud of me for choosing something for myself for once and not be shuffled around like some fucking chess piece or a ragtoy for people to practice their punches on.”

“Penny I know you lost your Fath–”

“I lost everything that day! I lost my pride, I lost my innocence, I lost all safety in this fucking world we live in,” she screamed finally, fisting her hands at her side. “I lost everything, and I got left with a war, I war born on a side I wasn’t able to choose.”

“You still have a choice. Don’t throw away everything because you’re angry.”

“That’s fine coming from you! You threw away everything for Papa! You threw away your career, your family, your education, your talent for a goddamn werewolf. You chose that, and now I’m left with this– I’m not a wolf or a witch. I don’t have the luxary of chosing what I want, you made that abundantly clear when we were born. You made us wolves, and now we have a war to complelte because wizards decide that we are monsters to be exterminated. You don’t want me to throw everything away,” she laughed and it morphed into a sob, “I don’t have anything. I am nothing in the eyes of the Wizards, a  hidden monster, and to my own family,” she hazarded a glance to the cousins in the doorway, Helle and Linus glaring her down, “I am not even enough for them unless I throw away what little I’ve begun to acheive. I wasn’t even enough for you, to stay fucking sane, because some days you’d wake up and look right through me, and even some day you dare not even look at me. You didn’t even walk me to the Platform at Hogwarts and I wondered if you even remembered I was gone. You threw me away, over grief, and now you expect me to listen to you?” Penny backed away, leaning against the wall, covering her eyes because it was getting too bright, too much emotion in the room. “I can’t even listen to myself.”

“Then listen to the pack, we are calling for you Penny,” Helle marched into the room, shoving right past Atalanta, grabbing her hands away from her eyes until the pair were staring at each other straight into their eyes. “I am calling for you, I want you, I don’t care what you have or what you don’t. You belong with us, with me, you deserve to have what Selene’s blood as a witch prevented you from having. We are wolves, take your birthright, it’s your destiny Penny.” she was cajoling and then she was gone, Atalanta grabbing her by her hair and tossing her to the side, the younger sister whipping back at her with a yell.

“It’s her goddamn choice to Turn! Her fucking choice! Don’t any of you get that! Selene, Linus, Hector, Helle! Any of you. Penny has a choice to make, to turn into a werewolf or not and it has nothing to do with any of us. It has to to with her.”

“She says she want to become a wolf but not a werewolf, though, how dare she give away her birthright for some magic trick.” Linus finally snarled, stepping from the shadows, dark circles under his mostly dark eyes that glittered with some newly forged bloodlust. “She wants to become a… animagus. That’s her choice, some wizard bullshit, not her fucking people, not being a fucking werewolf who is so much stronger, faster than a simple creature. She would throw away all the magic a Turn would give her, for something like that.”

“Go fuck yourself, Linus.” Penny growled at him, “I don’t wanna hear anything from you, you aren’t even welcome in this goddamn house and you know it. You’re lucky Lawrence isn’t here, he is sick of your radical speech.”

“What’s wrong with being a little radical, you have become so fucking–” he was quieted by Atalanta who grabbed his wrist and twisted it back, he howled in pain as she stared him down, he who was crying and trying to push from her hold, her heavily kohled eyes glaring him down until he was cowing.

“Out. Helle, get him out.”

Helle snarled but when it became obvious that Atalanta was going to fight them, and with Hector’s massive form looming in the shadow she hedged her bets and the pair exited noisily from the room, their snarls and growls amplifying as Penny leaned against the wall, refusing to meet the eyes of Hector, Atalanta and her Mother. She ran her fingers through her hair and then slid down the wall, tucking herself into a ball. She just wanted them to stop fighting, she wanted to be hated for something she was, she wanted some form of acceptance literally anywhere and not have to fight tooth and nail to be simply recognized as human or wolf, she wasn’t getting picky anymore. Penny couldn’t stand the duality anymore, the weight dragging her and graining weight each moment, the anger that flitted into her veins and poisoined her mind because each moment that the Ministry fought to destroy them, and her peers called for her blood her own boiled and waited, wishing for her to strike back and Penny willing herself to refuse the naturalality of her striking so hard. She looked up at the three of them, Atalanta who hoped through she never voiced it for Penny to join them, to Run like a wolf, Hector who wished nothing more than for Penny to gain stability in whatever life she chose, and Selene who wanted her to chose her humanity over her beast.

“What do you want me to be?”

“Whatever you want to be.”

She began to laugh, it was chocking, scraping at her throat as she worked herself into a hysteria. They all hovered so close to her and she waited for the moment it got to be too much and she’d simply run, and not freeze, or to start throwing punches, to run to Helle and beg to fight and get Bitten. She waited and waited and laughed and laughed with the tears streaming down her face.

“Mother Moon, when has whatever I wanted to be such a priority. I’m not human enough to have rights, and I’m not a wolf and therefore not real pack. Fuck, 'Lanta,” she looked up at her cousin whose eyes were so concerned and dark “I don’t even know what I wanted in the first place. I don't even know what I am. So I guess… for now, I’ll just, be.”

“That’s not a plan Penny.” Selene whispered, her eyes sad, mixed with ghosts, grief and regrets. The younger blonde sighed and shook her head, almost mournful.

“Huh, so I guess even just being isn’t good enough either, shocker.” Penny stood and shakily moved to collapse on the bed, a mixture of blankets, furs on a mattress, they all waited anxiously. “Just go then, I don’t need any of you here, and I certainly don’t want you here, since we’re all suddenly caring about what Penny wants from her life.”

“You know we just love you Pup,” Hector whispered.

“That’s never been the question.” she muttered into the blankets.

“Then why is it so hard to understand–”

“I wanted to fly,  to be the fastest flier, to have HAWKINS blazoned on my back, I wanted to be so fucking free and far away from the fucking world that it fucking celebrated my name instead of spat on it every goddamn day. That’s what I wanted, I wanted to fly. I'm not a fighter, yet somehow I've become the solider spy poet and I never got a say and just let it happen. Instead, I’m just… whatever this is, this little bastard creature of wolf and human that belongs nowhere and is expected to be whatever the person-of-the-day wants me to be.” she flipped onto her back, looking at the sky with longing, wishing she had the wings that her people were named for. To escape this world that never seemed to have want of her except to their benefit.

“You’re going to have to choose sometime.” Atalanta sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the length of her forehead, softly tracing down over her nose, and ending at her chin. She felt calmed, but never focused, she looked at Atalanta, eyes glazed with tears before turning away, the gray wall feeling a little too metaphorical than she wanted.

“Maybe I don’t want to make that choice anymore.”