It's Going Down

[inner_human]

Date: Friday, September 1
Time: 2:30 p.m.
Place: Hogsmeade, outside the Shrieking Shack
Characters Involved: Marcus Flint, Perry Derrick, invitation only
Rating: R for language and violence

Comments

[inner_human]

He had the focus of a guard dog trained to attack on command, eyes unblinking and never wavering from Flint. He trusted his ears and peripheral vision to tell him that they were truly alone. The last thing he needed was for this to get back to Spinner's End. What would the others say, if he jeopardized the already sketchy reputation of local werewolves all for a personal conflict?

Well, it looked like the fighting terms were decided. And amusingly, Flint didn't trust him.

He shouldn't.

Perry didn't even wait for Flint to return from lowering his wand before he started in, closing the distance between him. He was anticipating that moment when Flint realized he was being attacked and rised to meet him. His left fist was pulled back and ready, and he vaulted it right into Flint's face. It was a punch with all his weight behind it, meant to stun, meant to put Flint down in one blow.

Now he put down his wand, tossing it to a dry patch within view. He hated to leave it unattended, but didn't want to risk breaking it in their scuffle, either. He remembered the type of fighter Flint had been in their youth. He remembered the weight of him then, and considered how much he had grown in his adulthood. This was going to get ugly.

"Still feel like talking, Flint?"

He rubbed his knuckles and shook out his hand as he walked forward. It was a switch-up; to match his old strength, he was going to have to throw as much weight as he could behind the left hand. Favor the right, use it to block, and make sure Flint didn't catch on. Keep him close and give him no room to fight back.

Perry moved in.

[flint_ferocia]

Perry was a dirty motherfucker, who got Marcus right on the goddamn nose, on the first blow. The blow Marcus didn't even get a chance to prepare for-, which he should have known better. He did know better, from all the times Perry acted out orders of illegal activity during old quidditch matches. Perry had it in him to be twisted.

The fist crunched cartilage, and forced some blood vessels to pop, sending stomach-hurling pain to ride Marcus' insides quickly. Blood already started to run down out of one nostril, as soon as Perry stepped back. The weight and force of the punch made Marcus falter on his feet, and raise his hands to block any more blows- and at least catch a warning for the next. But Perry didn't deliver another, right after, which gave Marcus time to ground his feet and his mind. He didn't even care to register what Perry had said, but heard his voice and glanced up.

Marcus witnessed the dumb fucker coming in for another. Your turn to taste blood, you son of a bitch. Marcus stared at Perry's face, as he crouched a bit, and prepared. He ignored the bleeding nose, and the sting in his eyes as he waited, while pulling open his left arm and reaching up and out with it. He aimed his left hand to catch up on Perry's right shoulder (or thereabouts) to grab Perry around the collar.

If Marcus made contact, his fingers would coil around clothing, and instantly tug Perry down, while his right arm would be swinging up, so that Marcus literally pulled Perry down into a punch. He aimed near where he suspected the jaw to be, hoping to punch open a cheek, or take out an eye temporarily. His muscles tensed hard as he docked his heels against the ground and prepared to execute a strong right punch.

And if the punch made good contact, Marcus already had a second move queued. His right leg would be up to knee Perry in the side, but also if his fingers kept a good hold on whatever they grabbed to hold Perry downward. And it would take a second to rebalance the hop up on one leg, after swinging as hard as he could to hit Perry in the face. But if Perry didn't shrug Marcus off, and was stunned by the punch, the knee would hopefully penetrate soft stomach tissue. Course this would leave Marcus' left side vulnerable to a swipe, which would knock him on his arse, should Perry notice between blows. But Marcus was willing to compromise balance to knock some of the wind out of Perry for the blind nose punch.

[inner_human]

For all his size, Perry wasn't an expert fighter. He'd fought very little while he was at Hogwarts, and when he did, it was rarely fair. The victim was smaller, or the beating was done in a group; a mob of Slytherins all against one or two poor schmucks. Marcus had been one of his only real challenges as an adolescent. As an adult, fighting was not recreational, but for survival. Living a drifter's life had refined his hand-to-hand skills, but mostly any conflicts worth winning took a wand.

Perry relied on strength and stamina over speed and agility. He knew how to take a hit, and give one right back. He put a lot of power behind his attack, and his werewolf blood kept him from getting winded too quickly. All the same, Perry liked to take his opponents out as quickly as he could.

The punch to the right side of his face was a solid connect, and he could feel blood spilling into his mouth as his teeth cut into the inside of his jaw. That was as far as Perry let Flint's attack go. His old captain had a good hold, but Perry was just slightly taller, and heavier. While the knee was coming up, Perry grabbed Flint around the middle with his left arm and threw all his weight into him. Hell, hopefully he would crush the bastard when they hit the ground.

If not, Perry had a few punches waiting for him.

[flint_ferocia]

With fingers rolled into fabrics straining to rip, and his knuckle met skin in a sharp slam, Marcus was on top of the world. And just like clockwork, he lifted his leg to nail Perry in the gut, but instead found himself being grabbed and shoved backwards.

Since he had already tried to balance on one leg, he couldn’t support the weight of Perry or the force, making his body commit to the action of his aggressor, and fell to the ground. The fingers grabbing at Perry’s shoulder, pulled up and back, to block the area of his face as Marcus descended. Then the ground banged up against his back, and his head unavoidably bounced down, which made Marcus pause and suck in a hard breath, one that he hoped would replace the one that got knocked out as Perry’s full weight squished his chest. His limbs immediately started to fling about, to help out his disadvantage, even as he burned with pain in his chest and back. Marcus’ left and right arms tensed down to push at Perry’s shoulders quickly, as his legs wiggled so he could free a hip. Marcus was even gasping audibly for breath, like a fish out of water.

Then his head was starting to ache, which flushed panic in his mind that he would be defeated. Fucking suck it up and take his arse out. Marcus did the only thing he could think to do, while loosing strength and breath under Perry. Both of his arms flung back, twisted, and his hands found dirt and grass in clumps. Then quickly Marcus drove his hands near Perry’s face, to fling the crap from the ground near breathing holes and eye sockets. Then he forced up the strength to send his empty hands down to hit Perry hard at the sides of his neck, before bracing the areas and ultimately pulling Perry into a roll, to conquer the top portion of this setup. If he even had the strength to pull the heavy arse brute.

[inner_human]

He had to wince as they both bounced against the ground; the sharp angles of Flint's joints cut into him on impact. He used his left hand and his knees to push himself off the ground, but not fast enough. The hot pain of soil in his eyes and up his nostrils was enough to warrant a growl, and he immediately applied his left hand to protecting his face from any more cheap tricks. He coughed as Flint grabbed the sides of his neck, but hey, at least he spit blood all over the bastard.

Advantage lost. Suddenly Perry was on his back, Flint was on top of him, and the wolf immediately drew his legs up, knees in the air and feet braced against the ground, because he wasn't going to make this easy. He forced his eyes open--and shit, how the dirt granules bit into them--and used the same tactic Flint had done before. The right hand grabbed his collar to hold him in place, while the other offered another sound punch to the face.

And another. And the right hand would release to follow up, though he hated to use it. That was going to hurt later, but Perry didn't care. He just wanted Flint off of him.

[flint_ferocia]

"Fucking..... cunt." Marcus grunted out as Perry spewed blood and breath all over Marcus' face. But the roll proved successful, and Marcus was soon kneeling over Perry, with hands at both sides of his neck. He was forced to kneel, because he wanted to be at a distance, and Perry's bending knees force the position. Though now that he wasn't under Perry anymore, Marcus could breathe so much easier, and that helped him regain his energy. Fucking Perry was like a goddamn train.

With an aching head, Marcus tugged on his hold on Perry, wanting to thrash the man down on the hard ground many times, to show him what it felt like, and watch his head bounce like a rag doll. But before he could do it even once, Perry had grabbed Marcus, and tried to bring him down, just as a punch was swung. Luckily Marcus' arms were locked at the elbow, preparing to lift Perry up when Perry grabbed at his collar, so Marcus didn't go down into the flying fist as easily as all that.

However the knuckle impaled right into his left eye socket, which caused Marcus to collapse his arms in pain, and receive another blow to the side of the head. The punches were making his head fuzzy, so Marcus protected himself from more by rolling off of Perry on the right side, as quickly as he could. When he was on his back, Marcus then extended out his left arm and locked it at the elbow to try and thump against Perry's windpipe. He had to use a lot of force in his shoulder to get just enough speed to try and get Perry choked up a moment, so Marcus could roll again and get back up on his hands and knees, and ultimately his feet. Though he couldn’t aim for shite, since his head was throbbing, so he attempted the action, and then rolled over again before Perry was over him and getting in more good blows.

[inner_human]

Feckin' SHIT.

And suddenly Perry couldn't breathe.

He was rolling away at the same moment as Flint, and before Perry knew it they had parted, and he only took a second to gasp for air before he continued onto his hands and knees. He was coughing to clear soil and blood from his nasal passages and his eyes were watering and on fire. He shook his head once--which didn't seem to do much good--and finally, once he'd caught his breath, pushed himself to his feet.

There was Marcus, some feet away, and Perry was pleased to see that he looked just as dazed. He smirked and spit a wad of red liquid to the ground.

"Nice one, Flint." He rubbed his neck with a hand. It was still throbbing from that last shot. "What, not enjoying our time together? Or do you just hate not having the advantage?" The smirk dissolved into a much colder expression. "A lot easier, holding down girls, isn't it?"

[flint_ferocia]

Marcus could barely get up on his feet, the ground seemed very wobbly, but he did it all the same. Quickly he glanced to where Perry had been, noticing he wasn't there now, but a bit farther way getting to his own feet. Bloody fucking hell, Perry wasn't going down well at all. And Marcus could barely even see out one eye, as the skin started to swell up where Perry had punched him. He even quickly removed his black shirt to use it to wipe the blood from his nose, and try to stop the disgusting trickle.

Their eyes met, and Marcus gritted his teeth. "I'd enjoy it better if you stay on the fucking ground." He growled, and then coughed a few times uncontrollably, which made him dizzy because his head was still recovering from the all the pounding. But thoughts collected, and responses to Perry's taunts were delivered just as angrily as a punch would be.

"What the fuck you talking about? Huh? What?" Marcus was actually deciding to clear space, finding his anger to feed his used up energy. "What do whores have to do this shite? This is between you and me, and no damn girls...." Marcus was getting confused, and when Marcus is confused, he usually lashes out. He had to wait for his head to clear up to steady himself for a good blow, so he stopped advancing on Perry to clear his mind first.

[inner_human]

"What do whores have to do this shite?"

All that hot anger surged up again, and Perry's fists clenched in response. Of course, that's all any girl was to Flint. That didn't mean Perry wanted to hear it, especially not when one of those girls was his.

Flint would've done better to stand still; now the werewolf could see just how unsteady he was on his feet. And Perry was never one to miss an opportunity. Ignoring his own pain and the irritation in his eyes, he rushed forward, fist ready. This time he would make sure Flint went down and didn't get back up.

[flint_ferocia]

Figures. Fucking Figures. Perry can open his trap and start blabbering at the mouth, but once Marcus did it, it was 'Quick, charge at him while he's distracted' for Perry, and Marcus was frustrated as all hell. The idiot was coming, again, with that crazed look in his eye that meant he wanted blood, probably more from Marcus' nose.

He had just about enough of this shit.

As Perry advanced, Marcus blew out a large breath, gritted teeth and tensed muscles, even as the dizziness feeling settled over his mind again, and readied himself. The hand holding his shirt kept hold on the fabric, but gripped it tight in a fist, just like the other one clenched. And then suddenly, Marcus pivoted, turned on heel, worked his head around to keep his good eye on the target, and extended out- and back, his leg, to kick a blow right onto Perry's chest. It was a hard kick, one that meant business, as the weight that had been placed on the entire back leg of the side-high kick, was shared with the kicking foot itself when it would meet up with the body part it intended too. Marcus hoped to god that he had waited before just the last minute possible to kick, so Perry didn't see it coming.

But he couldn't control yelling out as he executed the action, because just doing that was making his condition worsen, and his body shake with weakness. He really didn't have a lot left in him, if he kept getting nasty blows to the head area.

[inner_human]

Not enough time to avoid that one. Perry took the kick full on and stumbled right back, determined to keep his footing despite the burning sensation in his chest. He doubled over, hands on his knees to prop himself up, and concentrated on breathing.

Fuck, that hurt. For a moment he entertained the thought of broken ribs, but quickly decided against that. He knew what a broken rib felt like; this didn't have the same sharp, suffocating pain. But that was a bruise that would linger, even with his superhuman blood.

He lifted his head enough to keep Flint within view. He'd noticed the labored yell as the older man kicked him; he was tired. Perry righted himself--as much as his protesting torso would allow. He came in low next, a punch ready for Flint's stomach, the right hand ready to grab whatever he could and take them both down. If he could get the man on his back again, then maybe this would end.

[flint_ferocia]

Marcus nearly lost his balance as he steadied on his feet, after getting a good kick out of his shaky legs. Still, Perry was determined, just as determined as Marcus was to hang on and come out on top. As Marcus stumbled, he watched Perry take a breather, so he threw his black shirt to the ground to free up his hand. Marcus knew this wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be over until Perry couldn’t move, if Marcus had any say in it.

He hadn’t figured Perry to be as strong as he was. If memory served, Perry wasn’t this strong in school- not much weaker than the man before him now, but there were obvious changes. It seemed as Marcus deteriorated from cruel years, Perry was blooming, and was taking everything thrown at him. This couldn’t just be blind hatred, Marcus considered quickly. Marcus knew that feeling, and it was reckless.

But Marcus didn’t have another second for thinking; Perry had come up on him and pushed his fist into Marcus stomach.

He wanted to topple forward, but then found himself grabbed by Perry, so instead he threw his arms around Perry, and then let his weight do the work for him, hoping to take Perry down while his feet gave way.

But when Marcus hit the ground, he was completely stunned, unable to breathe a steady breath, and feeling nauseated. His arms fell limp away from Perry, and his head angled back, to try to get in a better breath before he passed out. His legs tossed about, as Marcus tried to pull up his knees and help the stinging pain in his stomach. If it didn’t go away soon, Marcus was going to choke on his own vomit.

[inner_human]

Perry's full weight didn't fall on Marcus this time; he still had a grip on the man with one hand, while half his body had soaked up some shock from hitting the ground. He only lay there a moment, teeth clenched, before he forced himself to his knees. Perry had always been tough, but right now it was the werewolf that was keeping him on his feet, always ready to come back for more.

He didn't know how well he would have matched up against Flint, otherwise.

"Missing me now, Flint?" He was wheezing, dripping with sweat and blood, and his right arm trembled as it supported his weight. He lifted it and grabbed Flint's neck, right under the chin.

"You're all man, right?" Perry leaned closer and his grip pinched tighter. He continued through labored breaths. "Yet, it's the strangest thing. The only action you're getting is cheap gropes from unsuspecting girls on the street. Right?" He gave the bastard a brief shake to make sure he was listening.

"Right, Flint?"

[flint_ferocia]

Marcus blinked feverishly to help clear his vision, as he heard Perry’s voice. He knew the bastard would be on him again, attacking, if Marcus couldn’t get his shite together fast enough.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Instead, Marcus gasped loudly, and clawed at fingers clenching his neck, even as he continued to suffer pains all over his body. He dared to look up at Perry, trying to mask his pain with hate.

“F-f-f-uck….Offf!” Marcus forced out in labored breaths, and then decided to attempt saving his arse by putting both of his hands around Perry’s neck. He squeezed with very little strength, but enough to do something to distract Perry’s grip.

But when Perry forced a shake, Marcus winced and released his grip, to recover from the vibrating demolition. His eyes returned to Perry’s, and to conserve strength, Marcus went limp- which helped him to talk.
“I …didn’t know…. you cared…. about…whores.” The breaths, forced deep between words, helped him calm the raging and distressed beats of his heart.

Which also helped him tweak enough energy to snap his hands back to Perry’s throat.
“A man….takes…. what he… wants.” He squeezed as hard as he could, making his head scream like crackling thunder, and his gut burn like acid rain, but he wanted to get the point across.

“Get the fuck off!” He howled heavily.

[inner_human]

Flint, of course, didn't go down easily. Perry winced when Flint grabbed his neck the first time, but the grip soon fell, and he continued on. He didn't have a very good hold on Flint's neck and it had loosened with the threat of Flint returning the gesture, but now he made an effort to tighten it; secure, but not choking. He didn't want the older man passing out just yet.

Still, his arm was hurting. He needed to keep this short.

Perry saw red, every time Flint said that word. Every time he called his girl, Pansy Parkinson, a whore. But his meaning didn't seem to be penetrating that thick skull. When those meaty hands went yet again around Perry's neck he was determined to ignore them, determined not to give in, but the hold was stronger now. Whereas he only wanted to keep Flint in place, Flint really was trying to choke him. Perry clenched his teeth, but his face was turning red and this was beginning to fucking hurt.

He finally let go and moved back, enough to be sure he had enough clearance to elbow Flint in the torso and dislodge his grip. If that didn't work, he'd find some other way to free himself.

[flint_ferocia]

A stab in the side, and then Marcus released Perry and attempted to roll on his aching side, curling in a frozen disposition. Perry’s elbow had cut deep into a rattled body, and jagged breath- silencing all quakes with a solid corruption of pain. He couldn’t even cough to help his breathing, all attempts to take the blow were canceled out before Marcus attempted to try and help himself. He just laid there, arms instinctively covering over his trembling stomach, and his knees twisted upward to cushion his muscles from tensing any more than they needed. It was a hard maneuver to do with Perry looming over, but all Marcus could answer to was the pain.

And if the pain wasn’t enough, the heavy burden of defeat was dancing on his grave, making Marcus groan out defiantly against the calls of failure.