Wolf, Wolf, Kill The Wolf... [Catherine/Anders] [SOLO]

Hundreds of times she entered this dark office, hundreds of times her gaze had crossed the room, an array of decorum telling of this massive man’s history; Quincy memorabilia, a long outdated military uniform, many marks of the man’s exploits, a massive legacy squeezed into this tiny dully lit room… A legacy that she was out to kill, with her own hands.

“So ya ain’t shyin’ away after all, girl.” The shadowy giant’s growling voice beckoned from the darkness.

“What do I have to lose?” Her voice cut into the darkness, gripping the two pristine blades tidy in her hands, her greatest handiwork, doing good on the wishes of that damned witch; claws that once flayed her would be trained on flaying this man, “Either I kill you, or I die. Only difference is that I wouldn’t be going down pathetic… As if i’d die to you.”

A cruel laugh filled the dusty emptiness of the coldly lit space, “So be it th’n. If yuh wanna earn ya birthright t’at bad.”

An icy gaze looked back at her, finally acknowledging her. They fouled with what they saw,

“..And who’re ya to be mockin’ me with m’ wife’s face?”

“She asked to be able to aid in your death long after her own. And watch,” Indeed, a fragment of mask sat upon her helmeted features, just some of the beak and eye circlets she could retrieve from the corpse. It was difficult to format it to size, but she figured it out, “I’d say she was understandably bitter toward you, in that you’d sick her own granddaughter after her, Farfar.”

That shadow grew with a loud THUNK, the sounds of the desk and room shifting.

“Let’s git goin’ then, girl..” A huff would accompany his thunderous footsteps, as the two would make their trip out of the company grounds.

This was the night. The night she’d be free of this bastard.

There she was. That horrid little sunspot upon a bleak canvas of wintery greys, barely lit by the clouded skies of the homeland. What would have been a beautiful cold wilderness during the day was now a dark battleground for them to decide the future upon, decide if she was worthy of this so-called right by birth. He towered over her, as any giant of his blood would, a mere gnat before him.

“I won’t go easy on ya,” His breath was visible through the cold, any worthy warrior wouldn’t so much as shiver in temperatures like this, the girl was measuring up in that regard he could admit - not even a shake from her, those eyes glowering with hatred and a desire to kill. Good.

“I don’t remember asking you to,” A cruel smile crawled on her features, but even he could tell there was more than that past her features, “Can we get started already?”

His cold eyes drifted to her weapons, long claws finely secured with unnaturally woven metals to those sturdy handles. So she wouldn’t give up on that witchcraft… Feh. Fine then, he would see how well it improved her survival against him.

A bony claymore was lifted from his shoulders, and down to his side; that very weapon being the one they had their first, and second duel with. He knew this would be the last.

Footsteps that shook the earth would shove off as her comparatively tiny feet would kick through dirt and ice to meet him, a vicious yell erupting from the flow of red hair as she’d jump at the giant, blades ready to taste his flesh.

...

“Girl, what’re ya doin?”

That mop of brilliant locks would quickly shift to face him, hazel eyes looking at him with annoyance and confusion after that brief stare. It was a wonder how he managed to sneak up on her pinching and pressing at an ingot into… Was she trying to make a knife? The very sight was offensive…

“Making something to bury into a Hollow’s head..” She’d grumble, going back to her task of unnaturally commanding the metal to twist and shift.

“Giv’ me t’at,” He’d grunt, reaching down to snatch what was practically an oversized toothpick to his massive hands, of course she was after him calling him to give it back. He’d seen such ability before, and again it would put a bad taste in his mouth.

“Flimsy,” He’d snap it in half with ease. The broad-eyed child would let out a panicked scream, begging him to give it back, “Brittle. Worthless. I wouldn’ pick teeth wit t’is.”

“What would you know?!” She’d spit back at him in rage; that was the most life he ever got out of her since she was nursed back to health, every time she was angry it was like that spark came back, then withered away into that lost, pouty look. Child appeared as if her purpose had been taken, he knew that look well, he had brought many a man in that had that dull of the eye.

“Yuh best learn ya place, girl,” He’d throw the fragments on the ground in front of her, crushing the ‘blade’ with a foot, “Pay closer ah’tention to Nikolai’s lessons if ya want any bit a’ sanct’ary from me. And quit tat' foolish witchcraft; yer blades’ll be duller and filled wit’ weakness.”

“It’s NOT witchcraft- RRH!” She’d growl, grabbing the fragments and running out of the workshop made room, making a point to slam the door behind her. What was he to do with this one…

A frustrated yell would erupt from her as blades clashed, sparks flying as she would kick off his massive sword. Her lungs burned, her bones shook from the elements, but she was still determined to kill. Brows knit, she knew she was doing well so far; already there were some cuts upon that flesh sack he garbed himself in. All she had to do was be faster, smarter, more decisive than him..!

Bringer light would push her figure to move shortly out of the way of an incoming shockwave, barely shaken by the ground’s rumbling. She wasn’t used to operating on muddy soil, especially softened by the powerful man’s strikes, but she would make due with what she had; having her feet stable soon faded to a background process as keeping herself moving became imperative.

Ordinarily she would have been focusing on ending this quick.. But as she got far past the five minute mark, she felt a different kind of burn in the chest…

“Yuh seem real jovial fer bein’ a murderer!” He’d call out, his booming voice echoing the mountainous region, “I know yer smilin’ under t’at mask! Fine then! Good! Come at me w’it everythin’!”

“Already killed two, might as well have a third!” She spat out with little thought, rushing in for another blow with a twirl of her long blades, though as she closed in…

“..Then I popped the horrid beastie’s head off with m’ bare hands.”

The shadow of a man’s eyes laid upon the both of them as he was crossing the warehouse to oversee several processes, but notably to check on that twig of a girl’s progress. And here he found the whittling lesson on pause, Nikolai wrapped up telling her a story as she was sat on the desk with a small in-progress ornament and a knife of her own making. What he expected to be shaded eyes, were full of wonder and interest. She even seemed about to beg him to keep going before she realized his gaze was on her, that glow vanishing in an instant.

“Hell’re yuh two doin'?” He’d spit their way. Nikolai, that man nearly as monstrously large, still dwarfed by mere inches. As was natural, he was of their bloodline but far more divorced, not a single interest in inheriting all he had glowed in him.. Just like his miserable whelp of a son. Least the man had the gall to keep himself in the game, and speak up.

“Ah, sorry there,” He’d speak with a chuckle, “Lesson turned way tah stories. Girl’s doing quite well for herself, though!”

“Wit dat needle? Don’ tell me she made it..”

“She made it.” He’d affirm. Her face soured, going back to peeling the wood with increased determination, “Ah girl, don’t cut that quick the wood’ll split..”

"Then i'll fix it..." She'd growl through teeth.

“Quit slackin’ off, lest ya want’ah fail to be even a quart as capable as my men.”

There was that burn, to prove him wrong. Even her cuts looked cleaner, despite Nikolai’s gentle warnings.

“And yuh, yah quit bein’ soft wit her, that ain’t how she’s learnin’”

Nikolai’s expression was unlike him as he watched the man leave; it twisted with concern, sadness even. Feh...

CRASH!

She was thrown right off her feet, but forced her flight path to right with a skid and dash. That was close, uncomfortably close. Couldn’t afford a single one of his hits to strike her, he’d definitely break something with how strong he was. Cold rain began pelting the two of them, only making the softened terrain more treacherous to navigate and her skin ever colder. Even so, he remained as resolute as ever, marching over slush and mud laughing at her mockingly, as she too remained steadfast.

“Awwh, is’a bit’tah mud trippin’ tah poor girlie?” Those words wanted to sink into her, startle her, shake her, like he always did… But as always, she pushed back his insults, a firm foot striking the ground hard enough to follow up with her Fullbring abilities, a wave of mud conjured to fly at his large figure as a means of distraction. All he could do was laugh as she rushed him.

“Cmon girl, are distractions all yuh gat?” She grunted in frustration; the hell was he expecting her to do? He was tough to cut through no matter how much strength she applied, only managing to put in shallow scrapes… Then again, it wasn’t like she was assaulting his real body, at most she was just making him tired.

Another smash of earth was in her wake. She had to keep this up, but couldn’t keep playing the back foot…Don’t give up, keep going, keep fighting…

Hah, those miserable needles managed to slice through his flesh… Not even a madman would knock her efforts…

But that would be cut short, as he pressured her to a riverbank, having grabbed her by those brilliant locks that did naught but yield poor recollections. Her pained face, her worthless screams, drowned out only by his forcing her head beneath the icy tides. It was looking like the battle would be decided here; that speedy little insect caught between his digits, now only to die miserably and slowly.

Her body ceased movement. It appeared to be done. Disappointment creased his features; of course she wouldn’t make it.

…

“Heeey, Farfar…”

That waltzing figure came into his office, same time as every third night after, swaying under the intoxication of alcohol. She’d been tapping into that self-soothing liquid all the more after that night, where her guts were near hanging out of her… Yet he never kicked her out, even as she’d come to perch on his desk with her upper half.

“Y’horrid son of a bitch… Haven’t seen ya all day!” She’d bemoan, throwing an arm up to emphasize, “Hell you’ve been? I got… Fifteen orders done. Thought ya’d be around for your little ‘critique’ session of how terrible I am at everything…”

He’d quietly shut the book he was reading, a labored sigh as only one thing would get her out of this spiral, “Nevermind t’at, ‘ave I told ya how the battle against Hundrebeint of the White Shoreline ended?”

That got her looking a little more alert; she had lost that wonder for stories and expedition over the years, focusing on training herself for his downfall, he was almost afraid that died. These nights, where she’d bumble into his office… It was the only hope it was still in her, something past the spite and rage he encouraged, that she needed.

“C’mere then,” He’d pat his knee. Even in his dead heart, having that small figure on his knee brought some nostalgia, a remembrance of his two sons when they were boys, when his eldest was alive. These moments were the closest.. He'd ever feel to being a grandfather to his kin, not that it was at all deserved.

“..So me an' my men descended upon the ‘orrid creature, face of porcelain, sulfuric hatred in those beady eyes… Descendin’ upon em, gashing and slashing at those seemin’ endless legs…”

“..Farfar?” The small woman’s head was pressed on his abdomen, half lidded eyes and a sleepy voice greeting him, “Do I have to kill you..?”

“Y’signed that contact already. Lest ya wanna die y’self.”

“..You tell stories better than Niko.”

“Awf'l reason fer me not tuh die.”

“..Guess so…” Her eyes sunk to almost close, “..Still hate you.”

“Would expect nothin’ less,” His voice spoke with a tone of defeat, “..Anyhow, those seemin’ endless legs, one by one they wou’d gr’ow countable, compr’hendible as the battle raged…”

…

Icy teeth would suddenly sink deep into his arm, severing his tendons. His grip would loosen without his willing, a rabid expression on the girls’ face as she ripped those serrated claws from his arm in a surprise move. Decaying blood spilled into the dark waters, she herself vanishing beneath them for but a moment…

There we go, that hand would be useless to him now! A dire blow to his physical capabilities, he wouldn’t be able to put his full strength into those earth-shattering attacks anymore..! The sheer ecstasy of success kept her warm in the dark waters she hid beneath, eyes watching the giant’s footsteps shuffle the riverbed with each core-shaking stomp. She could get greedy, she could afford to get close…

SHRRK! A powerful boom of lacing green energy would be the only thing to hit her opponents senses before she burst out of the water, those steel claws poised to sink deep into his neck. This was it, she was going to win after all! A smile brightened her features as the mere thought of this nightmare of a battle ending was upon her, all she had to do was behead him!

..But of course it was foolish of her to trust things to be that simple, wasn’t it?

A strike hit her abdomen, sending her flying with but a single blade dislodging and following her flight across the bank, only stopped by a clumsy manipulation of air to cushion her fall and leave her skidding then forcing herself to a stop with that blade crunching the dirt. Her head whipped up, to see the giant of a man, blade sticking out of his throat, foul-smelling dark blood bubbling from his wound.

..It wasn’t over, of course it wasn’t. He wasn’t human anymore, after all.

“Yuh t’ink I would accept t’is?” His voice spat, though he wasn’t hampered by the enormous gouges in his throat at all, rather his speech was clear, menacing, spoken without lips, “Girl, the t’ings i’d throw away..”

A split featured on the monstrous man’s face, unnatural, more of that stinking rot exposed to the world. No, no he wasn’t… He wouldn’t…

But the sight of a brand new creature tearing it’s way from his fleshy appearance, scales dully glimmering in what little light there was, a burn of sulfur for eyes.

“Hah, what happened to your pride as a Quincy?” It was difficult to hide how out of breath, how astonished she was at the hideous sight before her, as the man she’d known for half her life at this point was rendered nothing but a bloodied pile of decay beneath a towering beast posturing with his weapon, “Wasn’t that why you put up that stupid act for so long-”

“DAMN MY PRIDE!” The wolf’s voice boomed, taking the air out of her lungs. The only evidence of her wounding him was marked clearly on one of his frontal paws as hardly a cracking into his scales, the flaying of his neck reduced to a deep sliver of red just below his jaw, “Iffit’s what’ll kill yeh, i’ll cast away a thousand lives, yuh worthless t'ing at m' feet! Yuh'll never be more than t'at snivelin' wretch I found!"

Then he charged, his crossing of the river nothing more than a few steps across a puddle compared to before. She braced herself.

The clashing of metals upon metals occupied a gentle cold rainfall, as the two pressured their way into the woods, Catherine’s own blade barely holding against the giant’s own crashing strikes. Even as a Hollow, he still elected to use his own craftsmanship; when would that change? He already felt that restrained instinct begin festering inside of his heartless chest, that rotten desire that the many Hollows he’d killed in his lifetime was now his to experience. But he had to carry on…

There she was, that little sunspot..! A powerful paw would come crashing her into the dirt, a stifled scream beneath that form as she just barely countered the attack with her own blade in time, at least for it to not destroy her innards. There, he would provide more pressure, threatening to crush her little body beneath horrible claws..

“Look atchu, under m’foot, just like always..” His cruel voice would hiss, bared teeth addressing her, not a speck of humanity would be gifted to this child, “Y’lived a nice long life as ah worm, how bout yuh die like one?”

Even so, she strained against him, gritted teeth as only a palm would be the mediation between those claws and her body being naught but a red stain, “I’m no slave… For you to crush so easily..! I will kill you, if anything you’ve given me all the more reason to..!”

“..Feh, yuh still got those dull eyes.. ‘Ow much have yuh changed, girl?”

“Enough to be greater than you!”

“CAN YUH REALLY SAY THAT?” His voice boomed again, but she didn’t falter.

“YES! I'LL FIGHT TO THE LAST BREATH IF I HAVE TO! IF IT MEANS YOU FINALLY DIE!” She’d scream back at him with all her might, even in her most dire moment.. She would find a way. That blade snuck it’s way into that chink in his armor, burying itself in the existing wound, pain raking up his arm like a bolt of lightning. His motor skills gave out long before his will to crush her.

Even so.. He felt himself slip, just for a moment, watching that figure run away from him only provoked that cavernous hunger… Oh, how he’d pity all he’d slaughtered.

Her shoulder was definitely broken, the thrill of battle and the push for survival being the only things keeping her feet moving; more injuries were likely there, but her adrenaline made ignoring them more than possible. There had to be a nook or cranny or something to push open to hide in...

Wait.

She wasn't being chased right now. That couldn't be right he was just behind her, why wasn't she hearing him? There wasn't any way he gave up over something as small as an injury of the foot, but he was massive...

"Anders?" Completely unwise, she went against her better instincts to call out to her grandfather. Some mote of concern and sinking terror possessed her for that moment; there wasn't any conceivable way he succumbed to his injuries. That left only a single other possibility, one her mind screamed out to the vast nothing was not true, "Farfar?"

Those silent screams of prayer were in vain. The being who burst from the trees, hunger glowing in it's eyes, teeth gnashing, and icy claws trained on her location. was not her grandfather. Not anymore.

She quickly diverted herself out of the way of the incoming strike, the monster crashing into the clearing with it's lashing tail. All she could do was look on in frozen horror, gripping her remaining blade tighter than ever. New feelings, or rather emotions she'd pressed deep into herself so that they wouldn't interfere surfaced. The red-head couldn't help but yell back as she fled,

"Is this it?! Is this really your limit?! You'd stoop down to just being another Hollow just to kill me?!" Her voice rasped, hindered by the cold on her lungs as a sob threatened to break, reaching her remaining good hand into her mouth to pull out something she didn't think she'd need; that damn locket.

Ducking swipes, missing tackles, and a clump of her hair hurriedly sliced off when those teeth had narrowly caught the swirling length of bright locks, she couldn't help but rant and rave, an unbearable downpour forming in her soul, "We were supposed to fight, hunter to hunter, smith to smith! How could you give in this close to finish?! You giant bastard!"

She managed to lose it, pressing herself into a cavity of earth, cautiously commanding the space to spread further open so that she may be granted a brief respite, panting and holding her broken arm still clutching that blade, the sensation of tissue and bone attempting to reconstitute painful and nauseating as she only had moments to collect herself...

...He managed to keep himself together all these years, yet now he was succumbing to the hunger. Did she take too long? Did she rob herself of a proper fight, because she couldn't get to his level in time? Was where this was going to because of her own weakness..?

...No. No. What happened, was what happened. She started this, it was on her to finish it - regardless of if that old man was still in there, or not. Stop thinking about things that don't matter... Just get across that damned finish line.