Post by Seek on Jul 6, 2011 3:09:37 GMT 10
Title: Staying Alive
Rating: R
Couple/Character: Matthias Tunstall
Event: 500 word dash
Words: 500
Summary: Part of being a Puppy, Mattes learns, is about staying alive to make sure the Rats get theirs. It’s about learning that sometimes, it’s them or you.
Warning: Action, a lot of violence.
-
On the streets, Mattes was learning first-hand how brawls could turn into chaotic melees instead of the telegraphed combat sequences he’d learned during Puppy training. While some Puppies had complained about the lack of a good blade, his baton now proved invaluable as he cracked knuckles and delivered nap-taps the moment an opening presented itself.
Tamsin reached for her whistle and blew it, again and again as Akela stepped in smoothly, interposing himself between her and a rusher making for her. His baton slipped forward, delivering a neat blow to the cove’s jaw that laid him out.
A mot with pierced ears grinned at Mattes; she came in quick, her knives flashing, and Mattes grimaced as steel traced a line of pain along his forearm. He was too slow on the dodge, though he swept his baton out as he recovered, forcing her back again. “You’re too young, Puppy,” she said, and her smile revealed gaps in her teeth.
He thanked the gods that the cut wasn’t too bad as Delian’s training reasserted itself. He’d underestimated her the first time. He’d have to lay her out in one blow before someone decided to knife him. She moved, and so did he; he dodged her strike this time, and hissed in pain as an adder-quick twist brought her knife running along his cheek instead of the side of his neck.
He should have worn a gorget.
His other arm snapped up reflexively, wielding the use-knife he’d palmed from his boot. Dogs weren’t issued blades. It didn’t mean they didn’t carry them.
He snapped it straight through her throat and jerked it free.
He wasn’t sure what surprised him: how much blood there was, or the way she died, her blood still warm on his hands, drying with the tang of copper.
He didn’t realise he was standing there, staring blankly until someone grabbed him on the shoulder and Mattes’ tightly-stretched nerves had him moving, knife aiming for the other person until hands shook him. Hard.
“Tunstall. It’s me.”
And then the blood fell away, and he was staring into the dark eyes of Akela. His mentor knelt on the ground, strong hands forcing Mattes to look right at him.
“So you’ve killed for the first time in a knife fight,” Akela stated steadily. “Get used to it. Out there on the streets, Tunstall, anyone who attacks you with bared steel is trying to kill you. Your first job is to survive, and your second is to bring them in. I won’t lie to you and say that it’s pretty. But if you don’t kill some of these rushers, they’ll kill you first. Understand?”
“You don’t like it,” Tamsin added, in that same terribly-quiet voice as she approached him, the stiff, white cloth of bandages in hand. “But you get used to it, Trainee Tunstall.”
It took Mattes four tries to force enough moisture into his mouth to stammer, “Yes, sir.”
He wondered if he would really ever get used to it.
Rating: R
Couple/Character: Matthias Tunstall
Event: 500 word dash
Words: 500
Summary: Part of being a Puppy, Mattes learns, is about staying alive to make sure the Rats get theirs. It’s about learning that sometimes, it’s them or you.
Warning: Action, a lot of violence.
-
On the streets, Mattes was learning first-hand how brawls could turn into chaotic melees instead of the telegraphed combat sequences he’d learned during Puppy training. While some Puppies had complained about the lack of a good blade, his baton now proved invaluable as he cracked knuckles and delivered nap-taps the moment an opening presented itself.
Tamsin reached for her whistle and blew it, again and again as Akela stepped in smoothly, interposing himself between her and a rusher making for her. His baton slipped forward, delivering a neat blow to the cove’s jaw that laid him out.
A mot with pierced ears grinned at Mattes; she came in quick, her knives flashing, and Mattes grimaced as steel traced a line of pain along his forearm. He was too slow on the dodge, though he swept his baton out as he recovered, forcing her back again. “You’re too young, Puppy,” she said, and her smile revealed gaps in her teeth.
He thanked the gods that the cut wasn’t too bad as Delian’s training reasserted itself. He’d underestimated her the first time. He’d have to lay her out in one blow before someone decided to knife him. She moved, and so did he; he dodged her strike this time, and hissed in pain as an adder-quick twist brought her knife running along his cheek instead of the side of his neck.
He should have worn a gorget.
His other arm snapped up reflexively, wielding the use-knife he’d palmed from his boot. Dogs weren’t issued blades. It didn’t mean they didn’t carry them.
He snapped it straight through her throat and jerked it free.
He wasn’t sure what surprised him: how much blood there was, or the way she died, her blood still warm on his hands, drying with the tang of copper.
He didn’t realise he was standing there, staring blankly until someone grabbed him on the shoulder and Mattes’ tightly-stretched nerves had him moving, knife aiming for the other person until hands shook him. Hard.
“Tunstall. It’s me.”
And then the blood fell away, and he was staring into the dark eyes of Akela. His mentor knelt on the ground, strong hands forcing Mattes to look right at him.
“So you’ve killed for the first time in a knife fight,” Akela stated steadily. “Get used to it. Out there on the streets, Tunstall, anyone who attacks you with bared steel is trying to kill you. Your first job is to survive, and your second is to bring them in. I won’t lie to you and say that it’s pretty. But if you don’t kill some of these rushers, they’ll kill you first. Understand?”
“You don’t like it,” Tamsin added, in that same terribly-quiet voice as she approached him, the stiff, white cloth of bandages in hand. “But you get used to it, Trainee Tunstall.”
It took Mattes four tries to force enough moisture into his mouth to stammer, “Yes, sir.”
He wondered if he would really ever get used to it.