Member
Ezekiel
Natty
Gormby
Dirge
Eddie Brock
Sep
Kalas
RPM
Mao Mao
Cyberlad
A N D
F E N R I R
T H E S A N C T U A R Y
July 3rd, 2020 | 7:21p.m. | Happy Harbour, Rhode Island - A collaborative post featuring @BlackSam3091
Somehow Steph had gotten dragged into helping Andy prepare dinner. She wasn’t exactly sure how this had happen, let alone how she ended up helping him prepare chicken parm. Steph had put forth the perfectly reasonable and enjoyable suggestion for waffles at IHOP but did anyone listen?
Nope.
Andy didn’t even try to compromise, together the pair could have prepared a Southern dish, waffles and fried chicken. They could have even kept the salad, but no, alas they went Italian. Andy got his way, just like back in Gotham.
“Good to know, some things don’t change.” Steph muttered to herself suddenly realizing she was the only left in the dining area. Looking up at the screen as Tom Holland unmasked, Steph felt a small swoon swell in her bosom before she began to clean up the table. Loading the Kord dishwasher, Steph gave the table a quick wipe before making her way down towards the training room.
Entering the room, Steph felt like she could practically cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. It was obvious from where she was standing that she had walked into the middle of an argument with Fenrir and Tachyus being the respective heads of the counter-arguments.
But something seemed particularly off about Fenrir. Steph had gone up against Man-Bat and Killer Croc enough to see when an animal is enraged. Making a beeline into the center of the room, the spunky blonde suddenly addressed the group.
“Hey guys, you’ve all been down here quite awhile, anyone in the mood for dessert? Ice cream maybe? Maybe ice cream on waffles?” She turned to Fenrir, her body language calm but her voice assertive.
“I know you do, big guy. You must have worked up quite the appetite with the hit you took earlier, I know you can go for dessert.” She said with a point.
Fenrir was mere feet away from Tachyus, his clawed fingers reaching out towards the Demi-God’s throat, hungry for carnage. There was no other thought on his mind other than the need to make the Godling regret his decision to stand against him, to cow the usurper, beat him into submission, to break his bones and rend his flesh. It was a low urge, primal and raw, almost beyond conscious thought, though not beyond human understanding. He was lost to the animal now. He hadn’t began the transformation from Man to Wolf, not yet, but it was inevitable now, like the rolling tides, or the falling and rising of the sun. The call of the wild was thick on him now, the need to change thick and heavy, like the need a drowning man has for oxygen. There was no stopping what had to happen.
Or at least, it should have been inevitable. It always had been in the past. But then, no one had ever asked him mid-rage if he wanted ice-cream before. The Beast wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the Man seen his chance to wrest back control.
He stopped in his tracks, arms still outstretched towards Tachyus, but his blood-lust momentarily allayed. His head cocked towards Stephanie, his face screwed up in what could have been a mixture of pain and surprised, almost like he’d just stubbed his toe. Words came thick and heavy, his mouth so recently fix into a snarl no longer quite suited for forming words. His tongue was to long, and his teeth to sharp.
“Not want desserts. Quiet now.” He returned his attention to Tachyus, though with some visible strain, and took another step forwards, a menacing growl rising in his chest.
“Oh please!” She exclaimed dismissively. “We just haven’t found you the right dessert yet.” Steph said taking care not to move. Inside she was terrified, Fenrir was easily way above her weight class, most of the other members of the initiative were, even with her Batsuit, which she notably was currently without. But her exterior remained calm and ready.
To drop bombs, but she keeps on forgettin’
“You strike me as more of a savoury kind of guy, bacon s’mores might be more to your liking?” She paused, taking a measured step forward. “And if, Captain Tightpants over there can break the rules without ripping a seam, maybe we could even get a drink of some sort, a nice daiquiri for me, a good beer for you? Eh? Whaddya say Fenrir?” Steph asked, moving in close enough to drape a friendly arm awkwardly over the taller man’s shoulders.
If Steph knew how close she came to losing that arm she might not have been so quick to get close to Fenrir. His whole body shook violently for a moment, his gray eyes deepened in pitch to the verge of inky blackness. For one terrible moment even he wasn’t sure if he was going to turn on the Batgirl. The Beast’s desire to rend, to rip, and to shred was almost overpowering.
Almost, but not completely. With a last ditch effort of will, the Man surged within, and wrestled control from the Beast, forcing the savage spirit back down to the depths of his being, where it would remain caged, brooding and vengeful, until the next time it felt it could force itself back to the fore. A sigh of relief escaped Magnus’ lips.
“Try not to kill any of your new teammates,”
It was one of the last things Shayera had said to him before he had left for Happy Harbour. She had meant it as a joke. He wondered how funny she would find it now, knowing how close they had come to disaster. Magnus had no control of the Beast during a transformation, no say on who it directed its fury towards, no halter to try and stem its rages. He would have become an unwilling passenger in his own body. If the Beast had decided to assault the rest of the team he would have been powerless to stop it, and all their blood would have been on his hands. He still needed to put Tachyus back into his place, but not like that. He would do it without surrendering himself to the wild.
But then, Shayera had also told him to make friends. Would breaking the Godling really help with that? Probably not, judging by the expressions on the Team’s faces. The last thing they wanted was a contest that ended in blood. And even if he did humble Tachyus now, would the demi-god accept it as a fair win, so soon after his spectacular failure during the battle? If Fenrir did beat him now - which he surely would if it came to blows - the arrogant Olympian might argue that his injuries from earlier slowed him down, and refuse to accept it as a fair victory. Magnus had no interest in beating him twice. No, it would be better to save this confrontation for later, and beat the Godling at his best. Then there would be no quibbling about the victor.
The wolfman hesitantly shrugged Stephanie’s arm from around his shoulder, though didn’t turn away from her.
“Fine. Let us have bacon.” His tone was blunt, but measured. He would stay his hand, in acquiescence to the groups will, but he was not happy about it. A sign of his willingness to work with them, if nothing else. This turn of events sat uneasy with him, though it would only be for a little while. He and Tachyus would their reckoning, sooner rather than later.
Relief washed over Steph has Fenrir reluctantly submitted to her request. With a small smile, she took a step away from Fenrir before addressing the rest of the group.
“You heard the man! Let us have bacon!” Steph exclaimed, her bubbly demeanor almost brightening the room as she made her way back towards the dining area.
“Hope we have bacon.”
Nope.
Andy didn’t even try to compromise, together the pair could have prepared a Southern dish, waffles and fried chicken. They could have even kept the salad, but no, alas they went Italian. Andy got his way, just like back in Gotham.
“Good to know, some things don’t change.” Steph muttered to herself suddenly realizing she was the only left in the dining area. Looking up at the screen as Tom Holland unmasked, Steph felt a small swoon swell in her bosom before she began to clean up the table. Loading the Kord dishwasher, Steph gave the table a quick wipe before making her way down towards the training room.
Entering the room, Steph felt like she could practically cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. It was obvious from where she was standing that she had walked into the middle of an argument with Fenrir and Tachyus being the respective heads of the counter-arguments.
But something seemed particularly off about Fenrir. Steph had gone up against Man-Bat and Killer Croc enough to see when an animal is enraged. Making a beeline into the center of the room, the spunky blonde suddenly addressed the group.
“Hey guys, you’ve all been down here quite awhile, anyone in the mood for dessert? Ice cream maybe? Maybe ice cream on waffles?” She turned to Fenrir, her body language calm but her voice assertive.
“I know you do, big guy. You must have worked up quite the appetite with the hit you took earlier, I know you can go for dessert.” She said with a point.
Fenrir was mere feet away from Tachyus, his clawed fingers reaching out towards the Demi-God’s throat, hungry for carnage. There was no other thought on his mind other than the need to make the Godling regret his decision to stand against him, to cow the usurper, beat him into submission, to break his bones and rend his flesh. It was a low urge, primal and raw, almost beyond conscious thought, though not beyond human understanding. He was lost to the animal now. He hadn’t began the transformation from Man to Wolf, not yet, but it was inevitable now, like the rolling tides, or the falling and rising of the sun. The call of the wild was thick on him now, the need to change thick and heavy, like the need a drowning man has for oxygen. There was no stopping what had to happen.
Or at least, it should have been inevitable. It always had been in the past. But then, no one had ever asked him mid-rage if he wanted ice-cream before. The Beast wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the Man seen his chance to wrest back control.
He stopped in his tracks, arms still outstretched towards Tachyus, but his blood-lust momentarily allayed. His head cocked towards Stephanie, his face screwed up in what could have been a mixture of pain and surprised, almost like he’d just stubbed his toe. Words came thick and heavy, his mouth so recently fix into a snarl no longer quite suited for forming words. His tongue was to long, and his teeth to sharp.
“Not want desserts. Quiet now.” He returned his attention to Tachyus, though with some visible strain, and took another step forwards, a menacing growl rising in his chest.
“Oh please!” She exclaimed dismissively. “We just haven’t found you the right dessert yet.” Steph said taking care not to move. Inside she was terrified, Fenrir was easily way above her weight class, most of the other members of the initiative were, even with her Batsuit, which she notably was currently without. But her exterior remained calm and ready.
To drop bombs, but she keeps on forgettin’
“You strike me as more of a savoury kind of guy, bacon s’mores might be more to your liking?” She paused, taking a measured step forward. “And if, Captain Tightpants over there can break the rules without ripping a seam, maybe we could even get a drink of some sort, a nice daiquiri for me, a good beer for you? Eh? Whaddya say Fenrir?” Steph asked, moving in close enough to drape a friendly arm awkwardly over the taller man’s shoulders.
If Steph knew how close she came to losing that arm she might not have been so quick to get close to Fenrir. His whole body shook violently for a moment, his gray eyes deepened in pitch to the verge of inky blackness. For one terrible moment even he wasn’t sure if he was going to turn on the Batgirl. The Beast’s desire to rend, to rip, and to shred was almost overpowering.
Almost, but not completely. With a last ditch effort of will, the Man surged within, and wrestled control from the Beast, forcing the savage spirit back down to the depths of his being, where it would remain caged, brooding and vengeful, until the next time it felt it could force itself back to the fore. A sigh of relief escaped Magnus’ lips.
“Try not to kill any of your new teammates,”
It was one of the last things Shayera had said to him before he had left for Happy Harbour. She had meant it as a joke. He wondered how funny she would find it now, knowing how close they had come to disaster. Magnus had no control of the Beast during a transformation, no say on who it directed its fury towards, no halter to try and stem its rages. He would have become an unwilling passenger in his own body. If the Beast had decided to assault the rest of the team he would have been powerless to stop it, and all their blood would have been on his hands. He still needed to put Tachyus back into his place, but not like that. He would do it without surrendering himself to the wild.
But then, Shayera had also told him to make friends. Would breaking the Godling really help with that? Probably not, judging by the expressions on the Team’s faces. The last thing they wanted was a contest that ended in blood. And even if he did humble Tachyus now, would the demi-god accept it as a fair win, so soon after his spectacular failure during the battle? If Fenrir did beat him now - which he surely would if it came to blows - the arrogant Olympian might argue that his injuries from earlier slowed him down, and refuse to accept it as a fair victory. Magnus had no interest in beating him twice. No, it would be better to save this confrontation for later, and beat the Godling at his best. Then there would be no quibbling about the victor.
The wolfman hesitantly shrugged Stephanie’s arm from around his shoulder, though didn’t turn away from her.
“Fine. Let us have bacon.” His tone was blunt, but measured. He would stay his hand, in acquiescence to the groups will, but he was not happy about it. A sign of his willingness to work with them, if nothing else. This turn of events sat uneasy with him, though it would only be for a little while. He and Tachyus would their reckoning, sooner rather than later.
Relief washed over Steph has Fenrir reluctantly submitted to her request. With a small smile, she took a step away from Fenrir before addressing the rest of the group.
“You heard the man! Let us have bacon!” Steph exclaimed, her bubbly demeanor almost brightening the room as she made her way back towards the dining area.
“Hope we have bacon.”
