Harsh Reality

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There wasn't much in this world that Scout enjoyed more than banter. She tended to know exactly where to push in order to keep the verbal fight going, if she so pleased. For someone that was a lone wolf, it was a peculiar hobby to have, however it came with a caveat. She had to be interested. She had to deem her opponent worthy to some extent, which didn't happen all that often. Stress was another mitigating factor, and in Malachi's presence there had been quite a bit of it. It made it easy to associate him with the aforementioned, and now, unfortunately, was becoming habit where he was concerned. She knew when to pick her battles though, and going into a fire fight, she wouldn't dare upend their concentration or focus. So, for his sake, she let the argument go with nothing more than the roll of her eyes. For her sake too, she imposed a metaphorical bookmark on the topic for later.

Like a pesky little hornet, the last of her closest targets continued buzzing about the exterior corner of the building. He knew he was in an impossible position to pin-point without risking her neck and poking her head out of the window. He knew this and held his spot there along the brick façade.

Scout considering making a break for it, under the window, or around the shelving to get closer towards the door; but she honestly wasn't sure where Mal was with his goals. From her angle, she saw the stumble of the man closest to Clay's hide, he collapsed, which settled that but immediately noted the second. "Clay, intersection!" she went to inform him over the radio, but her partner was already on it. The target hadn't made it close enough to gain the easement of the sidewalk for cover. The shot came from the southside window, where Clay had only seconds to take it. He did, tossing a successful headshot at the raider.

At least that was taken care of. Now Scout felt more pressure to end this confrontation and take out the last guy, and maybe just a tad aggravated she was the only one left with a target. Instead of playing peek-a-boo a third time, she reached and took out a hand grenade. Her idea wasn't without it's risks, but it would end this quickly. If she wasn't able to toss it just at the corner on the outside of the brick building, the blowback could come through the window; along with lethal shrapnel.

Yanking the pin out, she held the spoon secure for a second; shouting a warning to Mal "Grenade!" then chucked it in the sweet spot behind the last raider. She turned and bolted behind a stack of shelves, taking cover and hoping Mal had too. Within five seconds it exploded loudly, shrapnel hitting the exterior and bouncing off. After a moment, she crawled back out from behind her hiding spot and peeked through the window cautiously. The raider was down and not moving.

"Clear, here!" she called out, moving past the open window quickly and towards the door. She peeked from there too, seeing two bodies down there and another further down a bit near the window. Added to the two she knew were dead in the street, that made eight. Clay crackled into her ear piece that everything was clear from where he sat as well. It was then she turned and saw Mal on the ground, red pooling through his clothes at his side.

"Shit, how bad is it?" she fell to her knees in front of him, pushing her rifle out of the way so she could lift his jacket and take a look.

Posted 10-25-2021, 01:30 PM

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Malachi hissed, in pain at the terrible wound, though calmer than some would be…especially if they were mortal. Such a shot could have killed him. If it had been angled a bit higher, moved slightly to one side, it could have taken out his heart. Not all of his bodily functions worked quite the same way as they had in the past, but that heart was still needed to pump blood, which was something that was even more important in his current state than it had been in his past life. The healing was closing it up, but not fast enough and each bit of that precious liquid was something he had to replace.

When you coupled that with the fact that his body had to burn through it to help replenish and heal him during this chase, he knew he would be at a further deficit. It made the monster harder for him to control and the ability to hide the truth of what he was. That failure was far more likely to prove fatal than the piece of lead that blasted through his lower abdomen.

Still, he hissed as he heard Scouts proclamation. He drug himself further behind some shelving to try and put layers between himself and the outside. It was the best he could do, unfortunately before the grenade cooked off. If there had been any more glass in the windows they were certainly gone now as he felt the overpressure of the blast hit him.

Thankfully, that was the only thing that hit him. Despite the pain he felt, he couldn’t help a singular thought that took root in his head. Where the fuck did she get a goddamn grenade?”

He hissed at pain that coursed through him. His body was expelling the bullet, but it took a while and it felt worse going through his gut the first time than it had when it had gone in. At least then it had been so quick and there was so much adrenaline that he hadn’t actually felt it until after the fact.

He got himself turned around despite that and pushed himself up against some more shelving, gun in hand. Wouldn’t do to be so easy to finish off. He heard Scout moving about near the entrance as she checked out her work and cleared it. A part of him was impressed they still did some things in the Military with a modicum of sense.

Then she was there before him and he felt the warmth of her hand as she pulled up his jacket. He could smell her…in fact, it circled around him, inundating his senses and making them flare. The rush of the adrenaline from the fight still had her blood singing…he could tell by the rapid heartbeat he heard in her throat. He focused on that slender column…watching the artery there as it pulsed. His mouth watered and he tried to look away, turning his face from her and closing it tight. That was a whole different kind of pain…and he didn’t trust that his eyes would not have turned from their normal hue into something else…something that betrayed his true nature.

He tried to push her hands away with one of his, the other came up to her shoulder to try and keep her from getting closer. Now he could scent whatever she used to wash her hair and he could taste the vitality in her just from the warmth of her breath as it fanned near his face. His lips thinned and he felt his fangs slipping free from where they hid.

”Just…forget about me.” It probably sounded like someone that was just giving up on being helped, but this was more him trying to protect her from himself. He could feel his hold on the beast within slipping, that renewed need for hunger coming too late.

Just like his words as he found himself sliding his hand into her hair, both to keep her closer and to make her arch her neck while he pulled her closer to him. His face was paler now…and it made a sharp contrast against his eyes as they opened up, staring into her own. Instead of the blue pools they had once been, they were solid black, seemingly devoid of any color. He hissed, the sound darkly feral while he bared his teeth, revealing both sets of sharpened incisors.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 10-31-2021, 07:45 PM

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"That's... did it go clear through?" she didn't want to freak him out, adjusting what she said versus what she was thinking; but Scout didn't like what she saw. It was more than that, it was the predicament of where they were and how there was no doctor inside Stronghold that was going to help a drifter from beyond the wall. And that was even if she could get him in past the checkpoint by calling in a favor... she wasn't sure he had that long. Maybe, with it being a gut wound. Those seemed to take longer to kill, whether that was a bad thing or good thing, remained to be seen.

She replaced the jacket she had lifted to take a look, then pressed, reaching for one of his hands to try and get him to keep pressure on it; but he was barely responsive at that point. "Hey, hey stay with me. Keep pressure, there." she tried to gather his focus as he looked away from her. Even though the raiders had been clearly following his tail, she felt a tinge of guilt. The last thing she had asked him to do was take out the man going towards Clay's hide, he had done so, which lead her to believe this had happened because of her request.

He was pushing her away now, first his hand, and then the other was now on her shoulder. "Sorry, you're stuck with me." she replied as he tried to resign himself to what the bullet had done to his fate. "Clay, you're gonna have to get down here and help me, the drifter was shot--- Ow! Hey! Let go! What the…." the radio crackled as Scout sat crouched, as Mal fisted her hair and yanked her head back. In the shift, her ear piece fell from it's place, the cord yanked loose and causing it to malfunction. Unbeknownst to her, it began to transmit everything that happened thereafter, back to her partner across the street -- still in his hide.

None of that mattered. Scout had reactively grabbed at Mal's hand that was tangled in her hair, trying to free herself; but through the wince of that pain her eyes opened wide. His face had turned white as a sheet and in dangerous contrast, his eyes a coal black. Scout didn't know what she was looking at, it certainly wasn't the drifter. It was a creature. Not unlike those she hunted almost daily outside the walls. He hissed and she sprung into action, setting her gaze to the sharp rows of fangs that maliciously threatened to rip her apart.

Reaching to her side to get the side arm, the very one Malachi had found for her in trade.... the same one he had told her not to load... she pulled it up under the creatures jaw and squeezed the trigger.

Click. Nothing. Misfire.

She was just as surprised by the dud as she was of him. If the bird don't fly... she pulled back her arm, intent on bringing the bottom of the pistol grip down on his head... if only just to stun him momentarily in order for her to get away. She didn't understand how this had happened, how she had found herself face-to-face with an infected. How had he passed as human?

The questions were there, but they weren't at the forefront of her thoughts. The only thing she had on her mind was getting the hell out of there.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 11-01-2021, 09:32 PM This post was last modified: 11-02-2021, 08:06 AM by Scout Gadsby

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A small part of him thought she was being surprisingly tender in the way she was trying to reassure him and tell him she wasn’t going anywhere. He could recognize the gesture for what it was while lamenting the fact that she was completely oblivious to the true intent behind his actions.

He felt his agency over his body slip away as the Other took control. The beast that was spurred on only by the hunger for blood and spreading its kind had slipped its leash and was now free to act. Malachi felt like a rider, just the passenger to the drive-in movie he was now watching, if such cinematic moments still included all five senses.

He could feel every individual strand of hair that slid through his fingers as he gripped it tight. He smelled sweetness of her skin and swore that he could make out the generous dollop of fear that was dumped into her blood stream to spice that scent as horrid recognition flowed through her. His ears picked up the rapid-fire drumbeat of her heart as that ingrained fight-or-flight response kicked on. He saw the way her eyes widened and saw those emerald irises widen until there was but a sliver of it around those black pits as the prey sought to get away from a predator.

Malachi was awash in theses sensations, all of it enhanced by his lack of control, his lack of ability to do anything other than go on for the ride.

That was why he could see the shift in her shoulders…the move of her dominant hand as she reached down to that pistol, the one he had given her in trade. He recognized it before the beast did, focused as it was on the current a sense of the sense it craved most: the sweet tang of her blood upon his tongue.

He could have stopped it, felt that the Other’s control was focused narrowly on anything that would prevent it from the bounty to be found in the woman he held. The doors to control were not barred to him there. Given his speed and strength, he could stop her from ever getting it out of the holster. He could even crush her hand if he wanted to.

He did none of this, however, and instead he simply rode along, letting the scene play out. Long, long ago he’d sworn to defend people against threats, both foreign and domestic. The country he’d given that oath to might be gone, but his word was not. Scout, in the little time he’d know her,had grown on him. He’d stayed here in the firefight to protect her as much as to cover his own ass

Even if that mean protecting her from himself.

That gun slipped free and the beast began to take notice, but Malachi focused on the throb of her carotid there in that slender throat, distracting it until he felt the cool metal under his chin. He made peace with himself, waiting for the end that he thought was long overdue.

The moment stretched out for eternity…

The gun clicked then, a fouled round failing to fire.

Fuck…

The beast reached, it’s free hand reach up to grab her wrist as she brought the weapon up to strike him with it. He surged forward, showing that terrible strength as he barreled her backward and pinned her, his large frame bearing down on her as he pinned the hand with the useless weapon above her head, the grip hard enough to grind the bones on her hand together as he snarled over her and those fangs struck down into soft, tender flesh.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 11-02-2021, 07:05 AM

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If Scout had had a moment to herself in this instant, she would of used it all as justification. How her life had pinpointed her to this very second. How it had trained her, though it had nothing to do with the military or her physicality. A life was just the sum of experiences it did or didn't share with those that lived their own lives; and from that get-go, Scout had withdrawn. She wasn't close to people, she didn't trust people. --And, had she followed that pattern of behavior more strictly, she would have never been in this position to start with.

Pinned between Malachi and the wall, her last ditch effort had clearly not lead to any sort of savior. And if Scout was being honest with herself, she hadn't expected it to do anything other than anger the beast in front of her. Her expectations were quite manageable thus far.

Wincing at the way in which he grabbed her wrist, wrapping his hand around the flesh and tightening like a vice. He let go of a blood-chilling sound, much like an animal, warning it's victim to stand down. He then took what he was after, incredibly sharp fangs pierced her neck, instantly dipping into her blood stream. Then pulling from it. Drawing upon it.

Scout allowed herself only a half of a second to give into that sharp pain against her neck before she considered giving up. It was already done wasn't it? He had bitten her and now she would be a monster, just like him, the one thing she had spent years training to kill and rid the outskirts of the city of. It had finally caught up to her, all those lives, collecting into one big dose of karma.

She didn't believe that.

-- and even though she knew the gig was up, it didn't stop her from trying to violently raise her leg up and knee him between his legs. Hoping to make contact with the precious family jewels. "Fuck you." she muttered, trying to retrieve her arm that was held firmly over her head.

He might have killed her, but she was going to take him down with her if she was given the slightest chance.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 11-07-2021, 05:28 AM This post was last modified: 11-07-2021, 05:29 AM by Scout Gadsby

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Malachi fought with himself, with that Other self as it fed, keeping it focused on the feeding and away from the idea of turning her…of spreading and procreating itself the way it wanted to. It was easier to keep the Beast focused on that with the sweet taste of her blood in his mouth. He wanted to focus on that and not on the rest of it too…the sanguine wash was that intoxicating. Still, he fought against the pull so that he could at least guide and control the monster that he’d become in some form. Once that thirst was satiated, he would have control again…could make decisions again.

He just had to do his best not to kill her in the meantime.

He heard that muttered, barely audible statement of dissent as she struggled and he twisted so that the blow of her knee caught the inside of his thigh instead of what she was aiming at. Years of combatives reflexes had him twisting his hips and sliding his knee inside of hers so that, soon enough, he could get his within and get into her guard, her thighs on either side of his hips.

That position gave her a little more control, but not enough to matter, especially given their size and strength differences. If anything, this position was more…intimate as he pressed his weight down into her to keep her pinned, fighting off her struggles and keeping that gun control while he growled once more against her flesh, sinking those fangs in deeper.

If something didn’t change, he knew that the Beast would just rip out her throat and be done with it…or spike her with the venom that would turn her into one of his kind, one of the infected. Given their position…he tried something else to both calm her and sidetrack his inner monster from doing anything that was irrevocable.

Malachi led the monster into releasing something else into her bloodstream…let the curling warmth of pleasure spark in her veins. Scout wasn’t one, clearly, to be swayed away by pain, so he chose that which most people were far less experienced or disciplined enough to fight off. He let that pleasure curl through her, to fire up her veins as he put his gambit of getting her to submit and stop fighting into play.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 11-07-2021, 03:24 PM

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The knee didn't land it's chosen target, then, what was more, he made she sure didn't have a second chance at it either. Shifting in a way that placed him between her thighs, Scout wrinkled her nose at the choice. The intimate position made her want to harm him. Of course, that feeling had been there since the start of this transaction, but it deepened then. Making her see red, furiously her heart thumped against the rib cage in her chest. She wanted to kill him. She regretted not doing so the moment she met him.

It was the helplessness of it all, the inability to get away. Scout felt trapped like an animal in a corner, and she was very clearly realizing just how much that didn't work for her. Infuriated her. Pushed her to an impulsive edge, which given the opportunity, would have her making irrational choices to go along with the irrational thoughts.

"I'll fucking kill you Malachi, I'll kill you." she said the latter half between gritted teeth, the pain burning hot from his bite further deepening into her. But it was a promise. If she had any time left on this earth after he was finished poisoning her veins, she vowed to kill him. There was no way she could leave this world without knowing she had exacted revenge.

Unknowingly, the broken ear piece that had slipped from her ear was still transmitting the entire situation back to Clay. The man on the other end and across the street from them listened in horror, yelling into the transmitter for Scout to respond. She wouldn't hear it of course, it never went through, the radio being permanently stuck on her side of communication. He tried to get a sight on them, but Scout and Mal were no where within view. Clay checked his hand gun and began sprinting from his position down the stairs of the building and towards them.

Something, something was changing. Where pain throbbed like a toothache at her neck and shoulder, it began to subside, warmth replacing it and spreading through her veins. At first she didn't notice, not until it had substantially infected both her flesh and mind. The tenseness in her muscles began to lessen, until she wasn't struggling at all. Her eyes went half-lidded, briefly, before she widened them in realization. "What are you doing?... What are you DOING?" she had to force herself to get riled up again, but the way in which she tried to shout sounded... drunk almost. Lazy, and no where near as threatening.

Thoughts occurred to her. Strange considerations that his position between her thighs was not as revolting as she had first thought. She shook her head. Which caused her skin to rip some at the movement. There was an uncomfortable feeling between her legs, at her core, and she went flush at the thought of what it was.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 11-27-2021, 04:25 PM

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”I’ll fucking kill you, Malachi. I’ll kill you.”

Malachi heard her words, heard the venom in them. He felt the way her heart beat faster, each staccato thump giving him a fresh taste of blood as it thrummed past his fangs. He believed that she believed that. The man, or whatever he was now, held no compunctions about the vehemence she held. He just didn’t believe she’d have the opportunity. So long as the Other was in control, her life was likely forfeit. He was doing what he could to prevent it, but he doubted he would be able to do more than make sure that it was quick, instead of something prolonged or something that led to her being turned.

That was a fate worse than death. He should know.

With his senses as heightened as they were, he recognized the signs of her body being affected by the venom before she did. Malachi could feel the tension bleeding out of her body and how her struggles flagged and ebbed away. The Other pulled her closer as she tried to shake her head, drawing on that spot more as he kept her pinned there beneath him. His hips pressed harder into hers, that animalistic ridge there, caused by the flush influx of fresh blood, ground into that uncomfortable sensation between her thighs as he kept her to him.

”There! Malachi finally found the chink in his inner beast’s armor. That hunger was just the other side of a coin…or the opposite side of a blade. He focused on the carnal sensations that were as old or older than the need to feed: the need to rut. His fingers gripped her wrists tighter as he drew upon her flesh and drank deeply. Riding that edge of pleasure, he latched onto it and worked to grind harder into her. The feeling was almost as good as feeding. That conflicting sensation finally allowed him to reassert control.

Mal pulled his mouth back from her throat, his tongue working over the blood on his lips. He closed his eyes tight, shaking his head and gasping as he felt the control returned to him, like he was sloughing off old garments that no longer fight right. Shaking his head, he looked down at her, his own eyes back to their normal blue. He swore softly and then released her, pushing back and to his feet.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 11-29-2021, 11:03 PM

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The sensation was odd, mismatched to the occasion like oil trying to mix with water. Two substances combining to appear for just a moment as one, cohesive, a singular experience. Where the bite and pain were actually pleasure and attraction. Scout could feel the persuasion becoming harder and harder to resist. Whatever he had done was crossing wires in her mind, replacing that rage with a need. A need that no doubt drew upon the fire of her anger still yet, but lessened the want to straight murder him.

He was against her, pressing her harder into the wall behind them like a vice tightening and taking hold. She didn't push him away. A quiet rational voice was buried deep, being toppled by delusion after delusion. It whispered to her to struggle, to bite him back; whereas his neck and shoulder were right there, obvious and within reach. Scout couldn't hear it, her gut, or whatever survival instincts she had, was drowned out beyond recognition.

She could feel him now. The hardened ridge pressing through his clothes and between her thighs, targeting her bodies unapologetic response to her new found needs. It was as if he knew it too, felt it just as much as she did. She doubted it was of his own accord, no more than it was of hers. He could probably smell it, that carnal musk. They were animals, driven by the same desire, and by unfortunate circumstances, Scout considered it was a symptom of being turned. The fog in her brain was only a condition of becoming an Infected.

Slipping the grip on her own control, she pressed her hips into his, dipping so that that ridge drew upon a sensitive location. Even with cloth separating them, the pleasure grew with each shift. Letting her head fall back into the wall, she lost herself, groaning quietly through a closed mouth and gritted teeth.

A few more shifts of their hips and she would of reached the top of a climax, she knew it, and had become accepting of it too. However, the delusion seemed to coming to a devastating halt. He stopped feeding, pulled back just enough for her to see her own blood on his lips. It took several seconds for Scout to realize her surroundings, and even then, she didn't feel …. satisfied. As he let go of her hands and moved away, she stood there, not unlike a deer in the headlights, but more like if she had been sedated.

That little voice whispered again, draw your weapon. But she didn't listen, instead drawing her hand up to the injury on her neck. The seconds ticked on and the more she stood there, the more her mind cleared. Her hand lazily came down to the back of her boot, where she pulled out a hidden blade, a throwing knife. Drunk on lust she pointed it at him, clearly meaning to threaten him, but she said nothing. Only stared at him, as if it were hard to focus. Her grip on the knife tightened, then loosened, before she wrinkled her nose with an expression that shifted into almost a sad understanding of what she would become now.

"Go." she stared, unblinking. "LEAVE!" she took one step forward, like she would make good on her threats. Why was she letting him go? Why not kill him? They would be questions and regrets she would have to answer to later. Clay was shouting now, from somewhere outside the building. Yelling obscenities' and threats, and demanding Scout be released. He clearly had no view of the inside, else he would know she already had been.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 12-01-2021, 12:01 PM

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Before he broke the stranglehold the Other had on his control, Malachi felt how she finally responded in turn to the venom coursing through her veins. He felt her hips rolling into his own and the way her head lolled back to give him more space. That soft sound of pleasure that slipped from her lips could not be missed at this range, not with his hearing. That feral part of him wanted more.

He broke away, blinking of his own accord. He ran his own tongue over his lips, tasting the sanguine tang of her blood upon it. He stood, staring at her and she stood, staring back at him in that strange maelstrom of feeling and emotion as neither seemed to be fully released from those sensation nor did they know what to do now.

Mal knew what he should do. He should kill her. She knew his face, knew his name. She was a risk, even if he’d done his best to save her. So long as she drew breath, she’d be a risk to him. Yet he watched the way that hand moved down along to where he’d drunk from her before it came down to pull that blade from her boot. He glanced between it and her eyes as they stared at one another. He acknowledged what that knife was…the threat it represented, but he was back in control and he caged the Beast in fetters of his will once more and didn’t allow it to react to that threat.

Even her shouted words didn’t cause him to move…only the approaching sound of Clay…his voice, the crunch of gravel under boot, the sound of metal accessories moving with one and cloth in a low rustle. He felt overly attuned right now, like his senses were collecting too much information for him to process. This close, the tip of that blade pressed into the cloth of his T-shirt. All it would take is a shift of her weight to slide it home.

”You are okay.” He said the words but he didn’t elaborate. Those pale blue eyes watched her for a moment before he moved away, along the back and toward the rear entrances just before Clay shouldered through the broken door, sweeping the room with his rifle before his eyes fell on her.

”Scout! Are you hurt? Where’s that drifter trash?” Concern and worry was in his voice as he moved closer, continuing to look around in an attempt to find the man responsible for the distress he’d heard over the radio.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 12-02-2021, 12:45 PM

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Why not?

Why not, with effort akin to the batting a birds wing, did she not finish the threat? Why not make it a promise. A crescendo. Didn't he deserve it? As much as Scout knew and understood, Malachi had destroyed her, her life. He had cursed her to a non-life of the walking dead, the very thing she fought so hard to rid the world of. She felt betrayed, though in her gut she knew she shouldn't have. He was a drifter. There was a reason why patrolling officers resigned to squeezing the common rats for whatever they could get out of them, whenever the opportunities arose. It was a dog eat dog world. Whomever was the cruelest tended to survive.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Not that it mattered.

And then, in that resounding silence that passed between them briefly after she had shouted at him to leave; to escape her blade... he had the audacity to suggest she was okay. Oh it fueled the fire. It fanned the flames. Scout felt her face go flush with anger. She drew back, the knife pinched now between her thumb and index as she hurled it at the drifter. He had of course moved on, sliding out along the back entrance with inhuman speed. Her knife hit the back wall, sticking into the dilapidated drywall just as Clay came through the door.

She didn't even look at her partner. For the first few long and drawn out seconds, she glared at the way in which the drifter left; she stood there, unmoving. "He's gone." she noted with malice, giving Clay a reason to stop his search. Snapping out of it, she pressed her palm back to her neck again, pulling back and staring at the smeared blood that stained her skin. Clay stared too. He knew without words what had happened.

"You can't say anything. Not yet. You gotta give me time Clay. Hey, don't." Scout warned, watching as Clay shook his head. Knowing. Just knowing that Clay would want to do the right thing and turn her in the moment they got back inside. "Listen Clay, I'm dead, I'm dead right?" Scout reached her clean hand out and placed it on her partner's shoulder, trying to level with him. "But I've got a little time, right? At least a couple of weeks. Let me have that.. just two weeks. I'll turn myself in, alright?"

Pulling her shirt up some, she pinched the cloth between the collar of her uniform, hiding the bite mark. "Let's go." she turned, moving out of the door and back towards the street. A million emotions rushed through her the moment she was out of Clay's gaze, but she couldn't let them cripple her. Not now. Not until she made it back to her place, then and only then, could she let her guard down.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 12-22-2021, 10:38 PM

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