Place: Farmhouse : Barn
Time: It is currently 12:17 Pacific Time on Fri Mar 4 2005.
Weather: Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 52 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.20 and rising, and the relative humidity is 69 percent. The dewpoint is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)
Moon Phase: Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (41% full).
Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that
is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to
five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and
roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a
sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and
flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather
open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of
running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at
the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.
At a little over five foot tall and with a slim build, KL is hardly
awe-inspiring on first sight. She appears to be around seventeen years
old and still carries a teenager's air of disenchantment and irritation.
Her mid-length mousy-brown hair is brushed back out of her eyes and behind her ears. It's not exactly styled, as it appears to have been hacked at without any hint of hairdressing expertise, but it's at least had contact with a brush at some point recently. She would be quite attractive - in particular she has a very cute, upturned, nose - were it not for the sullen and aggressive set of her mouth and the hostility of her gaze. Her hazelnut eyes look out with disappointment and poorly hidden anger, as if the world were a holiday villa that didn't match the travel agent's description. Her skin is oddly pale, and on her right shoulder-blade a two-inch-square tattoo of a winged horse visible. Physically, she's well proportioned, and her bare arms show a tight musculature that speaks of regular exercise.
She's got a habit of slouching and of leaning up against any available support. When she forgets to slouch, however, she moves with a surprising degree of grace and compact poise.
She is wearing a white T-Shirt which has a dirty brown mark across the middle, a pair of white cycling shorts, white sports socks and a pair of white trainers which have seen better days. There's a large bandage wrapped around her right calf. A similar bandage is wrapped around her left forearm. A jogging pouch (or fanny pack, or bum bag depending on which country you're in) is slung around her waist.
The beating of the punching bag can be heard from within the barn during the afternoon as Brom is pounding away at it heavily. He bobs and ducks, slamming one quick combination after the other into it. He has a typical boxer stance, eyes concentrated and dripping with sweat down his scarred, bare upper body.
Moving quietly, KL slides around the door to the barn. Dressed in her usual running kit - white shorts, white t-shirt, and with a bandage on both her right calf and her left forearm. In addition, she has a fanny pack slung around her waist. There's a confidant jut to her jaw that isn't quite matched by the quick-flitting of her gaze. Seeing the huge Get working out she nods, and calls out "Hey, Brom." There's the merest hint of tension in her voice.
Thump THUMP. Brom catches the bag after two more hard swings, then turns around to face the Fury. "What happened to you?" He asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, sweat leaking down in rivets over his large frame. He is breathing heavily, hair flopped about his shoulders.
KL grins tightly. "Not a lot. Slight muscle strain, I think. Working out too hard." She refuses to meet Brom's eyes as he looks at her. "So... how about that sparring session?" she says tensely, her voice a couple of tones higher than normal. As she asks the question, her gaze comes up from the floor to stare at him. (ed: she actually has a knife cached beneath the bandage. And lime in the pack. Just in case.)
"You got muscle strain." Brom says, taking note. "If you're injured, it wouldn't be a fair fight, that and I wouldn't want to see you damage yourself even more. Its not a battle scar is it, an old wound coming back to surface?"
"I'll be OK. Nothing that would slow me down at all." KL says. "'sides, it's not my strong hand. I won't claim weakness afterward, if that's what you're worried about." She paces closer, an insolent grin appearing on her face. "Evens it up a bit, if anything. Wouldn't want to have an unfair advantage."
The Forsetti doesn't look exactly convinced, but shrugs his shoulders. "Well, if you feel like you got something to prove." He shifts his legs some, standing at the side instead of facing her, hands rolling up. Nearly a foot and a half taller than her, he just stares down at the other, rumbling quietly in his throat. "You know what they say, if you think you're big enough froggy, jump."
KL nods, the grin disappearing. "Ground rules? No gifts, no shifting, no axes, no swords...?" She takes a step back, and drops into a combat stance that a trained eye would recognise as having a hint of martial art about it.
"Don't need anything special, just you and me. A test of our true strength." Brom says with a rumble as he continues to wobble a bit on his feet, loosening up his ankles some. He shifts his boots in the ground, making a good scuff mark into the hay and dirt, balancing himself, but not advancing. He just simply waits.
KL nods. She drops a hand and strokes the pouch at her waist, then begins to move to circle Brom slowly. Apparantly, she is unwilling to make the first move either. Her hands are out in front of her, her knees bent, her breath coming regularly. There is something of a coiled spring about her, as if she is tightening up, ready to explode.
The Forsetti follows her movements, easily matching them as he sizes her up, watching the way her joints move, her muscles bunch. A quiet growl continues to echo in the back of his throat as he waits, like a snake in the grass. He doesn't attack either, content in giving her that pleasure. "Ladies first." He grunts.
The corners of KL's mouth twitch into a grin that's instantly repressed. Her expression hardens, and she takes a pace forward, her foot stamping hard on the floor, and feints a punch towards Brom's chest, her eyes fixed on his sternum, intending to pull the blow back as soon as he reacts.
"What is it up with you pussy West Coast Garou that always pulls their first punch." Brom says as he takes a quick step back as you throw the punch, putting another foot between them, shifting his weight again. "In my Sept, one of true warriors, we don't dance around in a circle. We fight."
"I'm not from the West Coast," KL mutters, still concentrating firmly on his chest. She takes another step, with her left foot, re-closing the gap. As her foot lands, her head lifts and she swivels on the ball of her foot and swings into a kick that's aimed at Brom's kneecap, her left arm lifting away from her body for balance.
Soon as she moves, Brom does as well, shifting himself to the side and kicking out with his foot, blocking it in mid air, despite getting a nasty whap to the shin. He steps back in the process, continuing to watch her, this time silently without words, giving her a mean look with his eyes.
KL blinks once, and her jaw tightens, as the two fighter's legs meet with a thump. She pulls the leg back, restoring her balance, then presses in again. Her cheeks start to redden, and her eyes narrow. She head-fakes left, then throws a jab with her left hand, aiming once again at Brom's chest.
When she moves again, this time Brom seems ready enough to deal with this attack. He blurs to the side, catching your arm in mid strike, pulling you inwards towards him as he tries to spin behind you. A knee is rose up and aimed for the small of your back. Its not going to be a love tap.
KL is surprised by this, but her reactions are quick. Rather than a fight-ending blow to the base of her spine, she manages to twist her hips so that the knee strikes off centre, over one kidney. Air explodes from her in a grunt of pain that turns into a growl of anger. Her right arm, the free one, grabs for the wrist of the Fenrir, as she buckles her left knee and drops her shoulder, hoping to throw him.
Grunting in surprise an being balanced on one leg with the knee hits home, Brom goes tumbling over the Fury's back, rolling with as best he could. He refuses to let go of that arm though, and with a mighty jerk soon as he hits the ground, he tries to twist it back to flip her over, in an odd, painful direction. Thump. He hits the ground, face up.
There's an audible sound of something ripping as KL's arm is pulled at an unnatural angle, and she crashes to the ground at the same time as Brom lands. The Black Fury yelps with pain and shock, and her feet scrabble on the floor as she tries to get back up, or at least get in some kind of position to defend herself against the next attack.
Rolling to his feet, Brom rumbles away in his chest, eyes narrowed, flashing her a quick set of teeth. He doesn't attack yet, instead, putting some distance between them, hunkered over some like a hungry bear. "Can you still go on?" He asks firmly, perhaps a 'hint' of concern creeping into his voice.
KL drags herself to her feet, her left arm cradled against her chest. She looks up, eyes moist but defiant. "Fuck yeah." she says. "You haven't touched me yet." She stretches her injured arm away from her chest, demonstrating that it's still functional, and doesn't quite manage to hide the wince that goes with the motion. Baring her teeth in a grin, she takes a step towards him. "Come on, East coast scum."
"Your fucking arm is hanging by .. I don't know what. Look, Fury. I could simply crush your head into the fucking ground and end it, or we can just stop here." Brom says, edging himself to the side some as you step forward, not once losing his defensive posture. He bares his teeth at her, twitchy, ready to react if need be.
KL doesn't reply, at least not verbally. She takes another step forward, which turns into a push off for a headlong charge, hoping to catch the Get off guard, or at least off balance. As she runs, she twists her body so that her right shoulder leads, and her weakened left side is protected.
As she moves, so does Brom, straight into her. Chicken, anyone? He ducks himself down, waiting, waiting, then lunges, hoping to collide into the Fury if possible in what appears to be a football tackle. When they get close, he grunts as her shoulder finds him in the side, coughing, trying to get his arms around her for a take down.
KL feels the arms encircling her, and twists as both Garou fly towards the ground, trying to prevent herself from landing on her weakened shoulder. Her right hand reaches up, fingers curled into claws, looking for any piece of flesh to gouge at with her nails.
Growling in pain as KL gets a good chunk of his neck and ear, she can feel the warm blood squrt out into her hands. Brom jerks his head back quickly, then rams it home, looking to hook it under your chin and butt its way upwards. He's still on top, and he tries to use it as an advantage to hold his weight down.
Brom's headbutt lands firmly, and KL's head snaps back with the blow, into the floor. Momentarily stunned, she slumps motionless beneath the _much larger_ Fenrir, her right arm falling to the floor with a bump.
Brom rumbles loudly as he stares down at her, then rises up quickly, taking a few steps away. He crouches some, watching her carefully, then calls over. "KL... are you alright?" He asks, letting out a quick breath.
The prone Black Fury groans, a long, low, groan. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rolls on to her front. Her right hand drops to the floor, and she pushes herself up into a kneeling position, then lifting her knee and standing up slowly, looking groggy and still favouring her left arm. Her lips are coloured a dark, rich red, and she spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor, where it soaks into the ground. Her lips curl into a smile. "You fight dirty," she says, breathing hard. Her right hand is clenched into a fist, her fingernails covered in blood and dirt.
"I use what I have availiable to me." Brom says with a rumble, continuing to watch her. "Shift into the Glabro form and heal your wounds. Don't damage that arm any longer. You are a good fighter, Fury, there was nothing wrong with your preformance."
KL shakes her head slowly. "I'm not beaten yet." She says, still grinning. Her right hand flicks out, throwing the handful of dirt she clawed off the floor towards Brom's face, sprinting in behind it in one last, slightly desperate, attack.
The dirt hits Brom in the face, causing him to blink. Blinded for the moment, he growls out in frustration and dives for the left, looking to get out of your way. In his crouched position, he doesn't get much spring, but he hopes to at least put some distance away so that he can work the dirt away from his eyes. "Fucking pussy!"
KL laughs, and follows the Get. "I use what I have available to me." she says, as she attempts to press home her momentary advantage. Given that her arms aren't working so well, that's going to be a kick, and she aims to sweep Brom's feet out from under him.
Stumbling to his knees as his feet are kicked out from under him, Brom explodes, a loud roar echoingin his throat as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then leaps up to his feet, whirling to face her. He squints a blurry eye open at her, rubbing at the other with a fist, keeping the other at guard. "Come on then you stupid bitch, I'm going to kill your ass. I could have beaten you when you were down, but I was honorable and stepped back. Now you fight like a fucking cock sucking ragabash /Gnawer/, throwing dirt at me."
"Fuck you, asshole." KL spits back (literally, as some blood flies from her mouth). "That's the fucking problem with you fucking Get scum. You define your fucking honour so it fucking well favours you." She stalks towards the Get, no fancy moves, no care, just 158lbs of pissed Fury about to go against 250lbs of pissed Fenrir.
Watching your form move, Brom continues to back up as he moves in a wider circle, working the dirt out of one eye, blinking it open. The other still stings, but he'll deal with it. "At least our tribe HAS honor!" He roars back, this time taking the opportunity to attack first. He blurs forward, this time channeling his rage through him as he zips, zags, then throws out a mighty left hook, aimed for your head.
KL rocks back on her heels and watches the blow sail past her face. "Of course you fucking do. You fucking honorably fed thousands of women into fires." KL shifts her weight forward, and throws a fairly wild roundhouse punch, too slow and too weak to do much damage.
When the punch sails over head, Brom takes the slug to his side, grunting in pain as he whirls around once more to face her. "Fucking brainwashed cunt. I didn't personally do any of that shit. Get over it." He throws out another quick punch, this one aimed lower, looking for the chest, followed up by a second blurred shot aimed for her skull.
Both blows land firmly, the first causing KL to curl forward, the second snapping her head back. She drops to the floor, strength sapped. She's still conscious, though her eyes are unfocussed and very teary. Sighing, she rolls onto all fours, looks at Brom and then closes her eyes, lifts her chin and turns her face away, baring her throat.
Growling at the sight of her bared throat, it takes sheer willpower for Brom now to snap kick her in the head. He is shaking, trembling with frustration. "I came here.." He growls out quietly. "To Saint Claire's, to atone for a huge fuck up that I did, regarding a female kin of my tribe. Two years ago I got angry and I gave her my claws and lost the most important person in my life. Now she's here, and I'm here, and I'm trying my best to make it up to her. I made a promise to myself and to my tribe, to never strike a woman beneath me ever again, especially in Rage, or I would take my own life." He lets out a quick snort. "So before you start thinking I'm one of those drooling on my chin Get of Fenris viking's, know that I am honor bound to live by the code of Fenrir, and by my own. Good fight Fury." With that, he turns and heads for the doors.
KL slumps to the floor and lets out the yelp of absolute agony that she's been repressing since...oh...when Brom nearly ripped her arm off. She cradles her damaged shoulder with her good hand and curls into a fetal ball, before stretching out and shifting into Glabro.
R's Comments: I still think it's a legitimate ruse de guerre