taliasshaw - Tumblr blog

taliasshaw · 5 days ago

Text

TIMING: current SETTING: Metzli's home PARTIES: @taliasshaw + @muertarte WARNINGS: mentions of emotional abuse SUMMARY: talia and metzli have a friendly spar but things get a little unfriendly

Metzli’s gait was crooked and weak, but somehow still held a strong enough will to persist. Their latest search led them to what was supposed to be an abandoned warehouse. Six angry vampires later, and Metzli was making their way back home on foot, none the wiser to the company waiting for them.

When they arrived at the driveway, they noticed Talia up ahead. Shoulders sagged and it was all Metzli could do to keep themself from folding in half to lay on the floor. They'd promised Talia a sparring session and completely forgot about it in the midst of their surprise ambush.

“Talia.” The vampire straightened their posture and made their body swallow the limp as best they could, but they knew there was no hiding their black eye and busted lip. Underneath, Metzli was almost sure it was worse, but they knew Talia could handle it if they followed through with the spar.

“Did I make you wait a lot?” Metzli asked, closing the distance. “I forget we are doing this.” They blinked several times in an attempt to shake off the exhaustion. “If you want to, we still can. I am okay.”

—

Talia was rocking her weight from her heels to her toes and back, a hold-over fidget from when she was a pup. She could have gone up to the door of the estate, she supposed, met Metzli’s lamia roommate. But the strange insecurity that has been blossoming through her chest since the other night, on the lake, made her anxious. Uncertain. She’d rather just wait on the stoop (like a good dog) for her friend to show up.

Metzli was so easy, in a way that reminded Talia a bit of her sister. Their bluntness was like Tabitha’s, as was their fierceness, and the softness they held deep inside them. True, Talia believed that sparring with her friend and proving her own control would help earn her confidence back, but she also expected being around Metzli would help calm her some.

That is, until the vampire in question actually appeared, looking far worse for wear. “Metzli, are you kidding me?” Talia took a step back, as if she could physically distance herself from the idea of them sparring. Her hands up and splayed to keep them far from the weapons they could be. “You look..awful. What happened? Will you heal from all that?”

—

Metzli blinked, taking their own step back at Talia's reaction while they patted their face. “Ow.” They barely wince, eyes twitching subtly and face remaining mostly neutral. Hopefully Talia would get the message and maybe even understand the joke they were trying to make.

Shrugging, Metzli elaborated a bit further. “Of course I will heal from this. Sparring will not be an issue.” They pause, trying to reason with their friend. “I will be okay. It is only a little bruising and bites from stupid vampires.”

Despite forgetting their plans, the vampire was looking forward to seeing just how strong Talia was. On Metzli's property, she didn't have to hide. Neither of them did. “I fight in worse conditions anyway, so sparring a friend will not be bad.” They both had been looking forward to hanging out, and it didn't make much sense to Metzli to cancel because they were a little banged up.

—

Talia understood the joke and received the message Metzli was getting across but she didn’t laugh. She wasn’t comforted. She knew all too well how someone could train the response to pain out their body. Or what it meant to endure bruising and bites from your own kind, from others, from someone who wouldn’t stop–

“Why were you fighting other vampires?” Her tone was quietly curious, not scolding. Until meeting Metzli, vampires had been nearly as much of a myth to Talia as any normal human. She knew, in the abstract, that they existed, but she had never encountered them and had never met anyone who had either. Their politics and society and interactions were all a mystery to her. Was there some kind of inter-clan conflict Metzli was navigating? Or did this have to do with the shrouded past of their maker?

Metzli insisted they would be okay, but Talia wasn’t sure. She shifted, face tense, and cocked her head to better examine her friend’s injuries. “I don’t…want to hurt you.” How many times had Talia been pitted against someone she considered a friend, or someone who was her family, when one or both of them were still limping and licking wounds? She had been looking forward to this sparring session – and she didn’t want to disappoint her new friend. But she had left her pack for a reason, and she was trying to leave all of its baggage behind as well.

“It… You’re sure it doesn’t hurt? Or that you don’t need to rest?”

—

The apprehension on Talia's part made the vampire feel off-kilter. It was a stark contrast to what they'd experienced just an hour before. Even to the sparring sessions they had back home with the clan.

Not many members liked Metzli. They tolerated them, were obligated to treat them as a comrade, but none of them were friends. Whenever sessions were scheduled, Metzli usually had a line of opponents waiting.

Often, they were thrown in because they made fights entertaining to Eloy, and they reveled in his praise afterwards. Well, when Metzli won, of course. Exhaustion was an easy way to overwhelm an opponent, and there was no stopping unless Eloy allowed it or you ran out of contenders.

But what was happening wasn't that at all.

Talia looked worried. She was asking in earnest if Metzli was okay, and they weren't sure how to respond for a few beats. They couldn't even recall the last time someone had checked their wellbeing, or if anyone had at all in the first place.

“Um,” Metzli took a step back, trying to get ahold of themself. Taking a deep breath, they nodded, “I am sure.” The robotic tone of their voice left no room for uncertainty, though their wounds did try to betray them. “We can go to the field in the back. Follow me.” They waved for Talia trail behind them as they circled around the house and walked down a stone path. It led to a large backyard surrounded by brush and trees. Plenty of room for a decent tussle.

—

The hesitation before Metzli’s answer concerned Talia. She wasn’t sure whether to take it as the vampire building themself up to deceive her, or simply assessing to make sure they answered correctly. In the end, she had to take her friend at their word. Metzli said they were fine, they were sure, so Talia would…believe them.

Though, as they moved around the side of the property, Talia observed her friend carefully. She logged any shift to their stance, any limb they were holding tenderly or seemed to flinch at. It wouldn’t be possible to do no damage at all. This was a fight after all. But Talia could avoid the areas that might be giving Metzli the most trouble.

When they arrived at the backyard, Talia was momentarily distracted. It reminded her, just a bit, of the packlands she had left in Montana. Open space with a buffer of trees stretching out. Talia spent much of her free time wandering the Pines and the woods in Wicked’s Rest. It was what she was familiar with.

Mustering a smile, Talia tried to push away the doubts about Metzli’s condition. “Thanks, again, for doing this. I know we were going to spar sometime anyway, but I think it will help with the whole…” As she trailed off, Talia looped a hand in the air vaguely – hoping that would encompass that insecurity she had been feeling after losing control.

—

Something about the short walk gave Metzli a little more energy than they had before. Perhaps it was the anticipation of a fight, their body bristling with the urge to strike. Or maybe it was the opportunity to see a friend, to help her in the way she needed.

That sensation brought Metzli a sensation they rarely felt in the clan, but held to high regard when Eloy allowed them to. Elation and excitement. Playfulness and pep. There was little time for it, and Metzli never questioned that. They understood that duty came first.

But it did feel nice.

As they walked, the vampire began to bounce and loosen their muscles, relieved to find their aches were dulling despite the exhaustion. “I hope you do not mind if I get comfortable.” When the two reached a large open area, Metzli removed their shirt and stretched, forgetting the bruising underneath. “I like to spar without constricting.” They caught a glimpse of the purple and grey, waving it off since they actually didn't look terrible. Not to them.

“Do not mind those.” Rolling their shoulders, Metzli continued to stretch, finding the smile on their face was genuine when they faced Talia. “And you do not have to worry. You are remarkable and a surge does not change this.”

Though they do know what it's like to question themself too.

—

It helped, to see Metzli more energetic. Talia could almost believe that it wouldn’t be harming them further, to spar. Almost. There was still the brutal pathwork of bruises over their friend. Only highlighted when Metzli removed their shirt. Talia couldn’t suppress the wince that moved through her at the sight. But – Metzli said they were fine. They told Talia not to worry about the injuries. So…

Her friend’s reassurance that she was remarkable was enough of a distraction. She didn’t feel remarkable. She hadn’t for a long time, even before the surge. Since losing Tabitha, Talia knew she was subpar. A pathetic shadow of the wolf and soldier and person she had once been. Through all that, though, she always had her control. The one foundation she could rest on as a born wolf, worthy of the Shaw legacy. The explanation of the surge hardly helped. A part of her, a large part, believed she should have been able to keep herself in order still. The only mistress she or her wolf bowed to was the moon. She should have been stronger than any magic.

Shaking out that fear and doubt, Talia rocked back into a stance more suitable for combat. Feet stacked wide, elbows close to her trunk, and hands at her jaw. She tried, she did, to get into a more playful, confident state of mind. Sparring wasn’t often fun, with her pack, but there were still times where she tussled with her siblings or cousins that were pure play. She could do that here, with Metzli.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she told the vampire.

—

On a normal occasion, Metzli would avoid making the first move, opting for the second or third. But fighting Talia was different. Death wasn’t on the line. So when she stacked herself like a boxer, they knew exactly what to do. Mirroring her just a foot away, Metzli scanned Talia up and down. Her weight was well-placed, but few could keep their balance when Metzli performed a little slide and slip.

Stepping forward, the vampire feigned a punch, pulling their fist into themself and jutting their hip into Talia’s. The momentum was enough to shove her hips behind her and twist her body into Metzli’s free arm. It wrapped momentarily around her for their own balance, and in an instant, she was on the ground and Metzli was swiveling on their heel to face her.

They smiled, teasing her. “You sure you are ready?” Settling into a sumo squat, Metzli pressed their hand out, preparing for the counterattack.

—

Maybe Talia was pulling her punches a bit too much – Metzli got the jump on her far easier than expected. Her friend was obviously a skilled fighter but that didn’t stop Talia from mentally berating herself for letting them ground her. She took the brunt of that fall high on her back, pain lancing through her shoulders and up the base of her skull. It was delayed, but she allowed herself to swear loud in response – something that had been trained out of her. “Maybe not.” She was smiling as she answered back, trying still to settle into the mindset of a casual, playful spar.

Raising her legs, Talia rocked back and used the moment to jump back to her feet.

She copied the feint Metzli had pulled, squaring up for a punch at the kidneys she never followed through on. Instead, Talia struck out with a foot, catching the vampire behind their ankle and sweeping it forward. They would end up on the ground in much the same position that Talia had been just moments before. It was like a dance battle, a variation on the move Metzli had pulled. Through that choreography, Talia was able to soothe the fear of hurting her friend.

—

A rare smile pulled at the vampire's lips when they realized too late what Talia was doing. She had already told them how skilled she was, but to finally see it first-hand was something else. Metzli was excited to see what she'd do next, what she was truly capable of.

When they hit the ground, legs spread open from the surprise momentum as they were thrown back. Metzli used it to their advantage though, and continued the velocity into a roll that aided in the return to their feet. Their smile remained, and as soon as the balls of their feet touched the ground, they pounced forward.

Since Talia was a bit shorter than them, Metzli had to use a more ground-based strategy. A more forceful one, too. Which meant they managed to tackle Talia. With one arm wrapped around her waist, they kept her locked into them, waiting to see what she'd do next.

—

It wasn’t long before Talia found herself on the ground again, this time thrown there with Metzli’s full weight and power. She breathed deep and even once she landed – getting the wind knocked out of you could be anxiety-inducing. Talia wasn’t going to let her body spin out just from circumstances. She was stronger than that. She had to be stronger than that.

Talia hadn’t been pulling her punches, exactly, but she had been moving a little closer to dancing than fighting. Now, pinned and restricted as she was, she drifted closer to combat. She shifted her hips to keep her leverage and then ducked low. Caught Metzli in a series of quick punches to her lower back. She wasn’t thinking bout the bruises her friend had come in with, but she also wasn’t thinking about the horrible bone-crunching moment at Darkling Lake, either. There was only the present, only the fight.

—

Metzli groaned and folded slightly at the punches, the ache increasing uncomfortably while each impact landed on their existing bruises. Smart move. They could respect it. But that didn't really matter when the rest of them couldn't.

Despite their determination to remain upright, their body protested and rattled, crashing into the ground before Metzli could catch themself. They growled lowly in frustration, standing up frantically with their arm cocked back for a punch. As soon as it reached its apex though, the vampire recoiled from a sharp, shooting flame that burned up their spine.

Agony drew out from their throat, and Metzli collapsed once more. “I am fine.” They hissed, haphazardly attempting to scramble to their feet. After a few misses, they stand on wobbly legs, still requesting to continue. “We can…we can keep going.”

—

Talia’s first thought, instinctual, was pride. Triumph. A sound like that from your opponent meant you were nearly at the kill. But this wasn’t an opponent, it was a friend. And Talia didn’t want to kill. Before she could change positions to help Metzli, the vampire was in a heap on the ground. Dark tendrils of dread filled Talia’s mind – she hadn’t meant to hurt her friend, not badly. Not at all, really.

She rushed to her feet as Metzli did the same, surprised to find herself facing a loaded arm. “Metzli, wait–” Talia’s pleas ended up not mattering as Metzli collapsed to the ground again. That sound from their friend didn’t bring any pride, now. No sense of victory, just a looming shadow of guilt.

“No, we can’t.” Talia’s eyes were wide as she took a deep step away. Her hands were up but with palms showing, fingers spread in the universal sign for not wanting a fight. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Like she never wanted to hurt her siblings or cousins, like she hadn’t wanted to hurt Teagan. Drawing the lines of her control was proving harder and harder.

—

“You are not hurting me.” Metzli said, weakly. Which was only half true. Sparring came with its injuries and the intent is to cause at least a little harm in an attempt to practice skills.

“It is just…just a spasm.” Another half truth, but that was only because Metzli believed their pain to be from injuries acquired before the spar between them and Talia. They could keep fighting, and they would if Talia didn't keep to her stubborn mindset.

Taking a deep breath to steady themself, Metzli did their best to look prepared for another try. It was no longer about showing Talia how in control she was or about fun between friends. It was pride and habit. Eloy never called a fight over until he was grew bored or if one opponent died, so if Metzli fell, so be it. “Fight.” They breathed, a little too desperate. “Fight!”

—

When she was told to fight, no matter how battered Tabitha or Cleo or Aaron or Hector or Willa looked, Talia fought. All of her snapped to attention at her friend’s command. It was almost like being lost to the wolf, except for all the ways it wasn’t (The wolf was home and comfort and rest and instinct and nature. This was…something else.).

Without thinking or planning her next move, Talia struck out toward them. Her opponent was injured, weakened. She exploited that, boxing in close and firing off a series of powerful uppercuts, one after the other, until she felt the vampire’s balance compromise.

Shifting back in a fluid motion, Talia let loose on a push kick, hoping to launch her opponent back and to the ground, hard. A noise rushed up from her chest, something near-feral and a shade too close to a wolf’s growl.

—

Talia listened, and Metzli was grateful for the way she didn't hold back. They could almost feel each individual knuckle every time she launched a punch into them. Her strength was unrelenting.

“Fuck.” Metzli choked, thankful they didn't need air. It hurt nonetheless, but they could keep moving without compromising too much. Not that it mattered. The force from Talia staggered them and before they could plant their feet securely on the ground, they were hurled backward with an unsuspected kick.

Something of a yelp shot out of them, another echoing behind it when they landed harshly on the ground. None of Metzli's comrades had ever come this close to beating them, but they didn't mind that it was Talia that did it. Even as they writhed in a ball of pain under the shade of a neighboring tree.

—

Talia’s breath heaved through her as stood her ground, watching. Metzli was a few feet away, on the ground and staying there. If they were back in Montana, her father and brother would have been congratulating her and patting her on her back. This was good. She proved herself strong and defeated the opponent.

Only it wasn’t an opponent. It was Metzli, her sweet friend who was only doing any of this because Talia had lost control – had been weak enough to lose control, and weak enough to need someone else to tend to her in the aftermath. Lost control which was bad because he pack had said so and hurt a friend which was good because he pack said so but all of always at all times felt bad. Felt like skin that fit wrong, felt like remaining in her human shape for the full moon.

She turned then, and stalked a few paces further away from Metzli (her back to an opponent, bad form). She hadn’t wanted to hurt Metzli. Hadn’t wanted to– “I’m sorry,” she rasped out, arms wrapped around her middle, like she could hold all her discontent inside of her. “I didn’t mean to–” Just as she had told Teagan, after that slip.

Metzli’s home was surrounded by a dense wood and Talia knew she could get back to her house relatively unseen. So, between one step and the next, she shed her skin and fell into the wolf. And ran.

#emotional abuse tw #wickedswriting #war stories #war stories .. metzli #.. metzli bernal

3 notes · View notes