Weakness of Self - Connor O'Malley - Brutality Ficlet
Title: Weakness of Self.
Fandom: Brutality RPG
Prompt: 013. Test
Character/Pairing: Connor O'Malley/Hall, featuring Lasam.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 902
Summary: New technology means new tests...
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: This is set in Connor's past, when he was still in Ireland with his old pack. Lasam was his mentor, the one wolf he trusted. He is O'Malley at this point in time.
Weakness of Self
Connor breathed deeply, fingers wound around tight around his Colt pistols. The werewolf knew better than to let go or relax in any way until Lasam told him too. The new technology of Colt pistols had been quickly snapped up by the Irish pack, the wolves waiting impatiently for the weapons to filter over from the United States. And now they had some. Unfortunately, so did some vampires, something the pack could and would not abide.
In the end it had fallen to Connor and his mentor, a Filipino fighter by the name of Lasam to remove the guns from the vampires. That in turn had fallen just to Connor. Another one of Lasam’s tests. His way of training and teaching, test upon test, tests inside tests.
It had not started well - their information had been inaccurate when it came to the number of vampires. What had started as simple vermin clean up had quickly descended into a brutal fight for survival, the brown haired Irish fighter losing himself in the dance. And like all fights when the odds seemed so one sided, he suffered injuries.
Connor didn’t let them stop him, just as any good fighter. He had to prove himself to Lasam. The rest of his pack could go to hell when it came to what they thought of him, the only he even semi respected for Lasam. But he had sworn an oath to his pack and the other fighter had soon taught him the meaning of an oath.
“Well done Connor. Well done indeed…” The short Asian fighter stepped out of the shadows he had been watching from, an approving smile on his face. Connor smiled a proud, smug smile as he slipped the left pistol back into its holster. He grimaced slightly as he moved, empty hand now moving and pressing against his stomach, a little below the ribcage.
That was the thing about adrenaline, he thought distantly. It was only an effective pain killer for as long as it was pumping through your body. And with the danger gone, it was wearing off, all his bruises, cuts and bullet hole screaming for attention. He looked down at the blood trickling over his fingers for a few moments and then back up at Lasam, a question in his wolf eyes - the only hint of his werewolf abilities that he had allowed to bleed through during the battle.
“Do not ask me,” the older man instructed, voice cutting across him before he could speak. “If you do, you will forfeit the test.” For a moment, Connor simply stood there and tried to breathe though the pain, to try to understand what his mentor was telling him, was asking of him.
“Lasam,” he finally forced out, his eyes wide in disbelief. The older werewolf slowly shook his head and Connor felt the disbelief sore, his normally quick and nimble mind changing to a sluggish crawl. Lasam wasn’t going to help him… Lasam wasn’t going to get the bullet out. He staggered backwards, back slamming against the wall in an effort to give himself some kind of support. A curse bubbled out through his lips as he went, the collision only serving to aggravate the injuries on his back.
“Someday you might be out in the field alone and injured. I cannot help you then, and I cannot help you now. Get back to the pack Connor O’Malley.” Connor flinched slightly at the words, betrayal rising up like bile. He nodded all the same, knowing it would be pointless to argue or beg no matter how much he wanted to.
“I do this for you Connor,” Lasam insisted, stepping forward and resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. They grey haired fighter waited until Connor had lifted pained eyes to meet his own before continuing, putting the full force of his personality behind the words. “To ask for help now would show weakness. You can never show weakness, do you understand me? Never! Be brave and make it back to the pack. You will be treated then. I have faith in you.” He stared deep into Connor’s eyes, watching as the ghostly white hue of the wolf faded from youthful eyes in acceptance and submission.
Lasam pulled away, still watching his protégé for a few moments before nodding, apparently satisfied and stepped back, watching and waiting. For a few seconds Connor remained leaning against the wall, trying to focus. Colt bullets hurt. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the feeling of betrayal. Lasam was right and he knew that. Death before dishonour.
The older werewolf slunk away into the alleys of the Irish town, leaving Connor alone in the dark, with only the ash of dead vampires and spent bullets to keep him company. The night was silent again.
Connor turned. Hand still pressed against his wound. Blood still forcing its way out through the gaps between fingers. Focusing on nothing but breathing and continuing to breathe. To move his legs in the direction of his pack and to prove his worth. He couldn’t let Lasam down. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. This was a test he would not fail.
He should never have even looked as if he wanted help from the other wolf. Still in the field, meant still in the test and Connor was a fool for forgetting that.
And he would never show weakness again.
-fin-
Fandom: Brutality RPG
Prompt: 013. Test
Character/Pairing: Connor O'Malley/Hall, featuring Lasam.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 902
Summary: New technology means new tests...
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: This is set in Connor's past, when he was still in Ireland with his old pack. Lasam was his mentor, the one wolf he trusted. He is O'Malley at this point in time.
Weakness of Self
Connor breathed deeply, fingers wound around tight around his Colt pistols. The werewolf knew better than to let go or relax in any way until Lasam told him too. The new technology of Colt pistols had been quickly snapped up by the Irish pack, the wolves waiting impatiently for the weapons to filter over from the United States. And now they had some. Unfortunately, so did some vampires, something the pack could and would not abide.
In the end it had fallen to Connor and his mentor, a Filipino fighter by the name of Lasam to remove the guns from the vampires. That in turn had fallen just to Connor. Another one of Lasam’s tests. His way of training and teaching, test upon test, tests inside tests.
It had not started well - their information had been inaccurate when it came to the number of vampires. What had started as simple vermin clean up had quickly descended into a brutal fight for survival, the brown haired Irish fighter losing himself in the dance. And like all fights when the odds seemed so one sided, he suffered injuries.
Connor didn’t let them stop him, just as any good fighter. He had to prove himself to Lasam. The rest of his pack could go to hell when it came to what they thought of him, the only he even semi respected for Lasam. But he had sworn an oath to his pack and the other fighter had soon taught him the meaning of an oath.
“Well done Connor. Well done indeed…” The short Asian fighter stepped out of the shadows he had been watching from, an approving smile on his face. Connor smiled a proud, smug smile as he slipped the left pistol back into its holster. He grimaced slightly as he moved, empty hand now moving and pressing against his stomach, a little below the ribcage.
That was the thing about adrenaline, he thought distantly. It was only an effective pain killer for as long as it was pumping through your body. And with the danger gone, it was wearing off, all his bruises, cuts and bullet hole screaming for attention. He looked down at the blood trickling over his fingers for a few moments and then back up at Lasam, a question in his wolf eyes - the only hint of his werewolf abilities that he had allowed to bleed through during the battle.
“Do not ask me,” the older man instructed, voice cutting across him before he could speak. “If you do, you will forfeit the test.” For a moment, Connor simply stood there and tried to breathe though the pain, to try to understand what his mentor was telling him, was asking of him.
“Lasam,” he finally forced out, his eyes wide in disbelief. The older werewolf slowly shook his head and Connor felt the disbelief sore, his normally quick and nimble mind changing to a sluggish crawl. Lasam wasn’t going to help him… Lasam wasn’t going to get the bullet out. He staggered backwards, back slamming against the wall in an effort to give himself some kind of support. A curse bubbled out through his lips as he went, the collision only serving to aggravate the injuries on his back.
“Someday you might be out in the field alone and injured. I cannot help you then, and I cannot help you now. Get back to the pack Connor O’Malley.” Connor flinched slightly at the words, betrayal rising up like bile. He nodded all the same, knowing it would be pointless to argue or beg no matter how much he wanted to.
“I do this for you Connor,” Lasam insisted, stepping forward and resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. They grey haired fighter waited until Connor had lifted pained eyes to meet his own before continuing, putting the full force of his personality behind the words. “To ask for help now would show weakness. You can never show weakness, do you understand me? Never! Be brave and make it back to the pack. You will be treated then. I have faith in you.” He stared deep into Connor’s eyes, watching as the ghostly white hue of the wolf faded from youthful eyes in acceptance and submission.
Lasam pulled away, still watching his protégé for a few moments before nodding, apparently satisfied and stepped back, watching and waiting. For a few seconds Connor remained leaning against the wall, trying to focus. Colt bullets hurt. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the feeling of betrayal. Lasam was right and he knew that. Death before dishonour.
The older werewolf slunk away into the alleys of the Irish town, leaving Connor alone in the dark, with only the ash of dead vampires and spent bullets to keep him company. The night was silent again.
Connor turned. Hand still pressed against his wound. Blood still forcing its way out through the gaps between fingers. Focusing on nothing but breathing and continuing to breathe. To move his legs in the direction of his pack and to prove his worth. He couldn’t let Lasam down. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. This was a test he would not fail.
He should never have even looked as if he wanted help from the other wolf. Still in the field, meant still in the test and Connor was a fool for forgetting that.
And he would never show weakness again.
-fin-