Jackson Whittemore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bigkanimaoncampus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2014-01-15 03:28 pm
bigkanimaoncampus) wrote in tampered2014-01-15 03:28 pm
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
When; Jan 15, after dark
Rating; PG-13 at least (it will likely get violent and angry)
Characters; Jackson (bigkanimaoncampus), Peter (velveteenwolf), Allison (chasseuse), Derek (lupusalpha)
Summary; Jackson wasn’t prepared for the full moon. And as a result, the resident wolves and hunters need to step in to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.
Log;
As darkness fell across the city, Jackson felt restless. Not the sort of restless that left a person unable to sit still. Something more intense. Outside the apartment building where Lydia stayed, he paced in bare feet and stripped to the waist, his previously fountain soaked clothes still in Lydia’s care. With what she’d said, he no longer knew where they stood. Were they together? Did she even want him staying with her? Losing her to a move was one thing, but this?!
Hands flexed in and out of fists. He could feel it. Just under the surface. Just barely contained. That very thing he’d that gave him the power he’d longed for. Howling. Demanding to be let out, to be the answer to his frustrations.
He hadn’t lost control, yet. Not since the two days before, in his training with Derek, before he came to this city. He was better than this. He didn’t need her. He could do this himself. But the very thought of her brought a flood of blinding jealousy and regret. His grasp shifted and it came tearing toward the surface with such ferocity it made him double over.
This wasn’t just a typical loss of control. He hadn’t felt something like this since the full moon, less than a week ago for him.
Control it! he scolded himself. He was better than this. He was stronger than it.
The effort to contain it drove him to his knees, hands hitting the pavement. On reflex he reached for that which helped him most. Something that mattered to him far more than needing to be better. Memories of a girl. Of Lydia. Typically, it was a flood of all that made her important to him. Small things. Laying in bed with her. A shared laugh. At someone else’s misfortune or their own delight. Or much larger things, such as the painful but humanizing words she spoke after handing him a simple house key. But not this time. In their place there were only memories of her with Stiles, whether real or imagined.
Claws dug into pavement as he let out a ferocious, inhuman roar. The wolf flooded through him before he could stop it.
A sound. Something behind him. Or someone. He twisted around, ready to attack. But before he could locate the source, he caught a glimpse of the moon, just barely peeking out between the clouds.
Full.
He didn’t understand how or why. But the sight gave him a sudden rush of clarity. The tiniest edge of control. Get away! Get out!
He took off, away from the apartments. Running as fast as he could, remaining on two feet instead of all fours as others of his kind tended to do. He didn’t know the city. Where it started or ended, or what lay beyond its streets. Even if he had known the lay out, the roar anger and fear inside him detracted from any conscious ability to navigate.
He just ran.
Rating; PG-13 at least (it will likely get violent and angry)
Characters; Jackson (
bigkanimaoncampus), Peter (velveteenwolf), Allison (chasseuse), Derek (lupusalpha)Summary; Jackson wasn’t prepared for the full moon. And as a result, the resident wolves and hunters need to step in to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.
Log;
As darkness fell across the city, Jackson felt restless. Not the sort of restless that left a person unable to sit still. Something more intense. Outside the apartment building where Lydia stayed, he paced in bare feet and stripped to the waist, his previously fountain soaked clothes still in Lydia’s care. With what she’d said, he no longer knew where they stood. Were they together? Did she even want him staying with her? Losing her to a move was one thing, but this?!
Hands flexed in and out of fists. He could feel it. Just under the surface. Just barely contained. That very thing he’d that gave him the power he’d longed for. Howling. Demanding to be let out, to be the answer to his frustrations.
He hadn’t lost control, yet. Not since the two days before, in his training with Derek, before he came to this city. He was better than this. He didn’t need her. He could do this himself. But the very thought of her brought a flood of blinding jealousy and regret. His grasp shifted and it came tearing toward the surface with such ferocity it made him double over.
This wasn’t just a typical loss of control. He hadn’t felt something like this since the full moon, less than a week ago for him.
Control it! he scolded himself. He was better than this. He was stronger than it.
The effort to contain it drove him to his knees, hands hitting the pavement. On reflex he reached for that which helped him most. Something that mattered to him far more than needing to be better. Memories of a girl. Of Lydia. Typically, it was a flood of all that made her important to him. Small things. Laying in bed with her. A shared laugh. At someone else’s misfortune or their own delight. Or much larger things, such as the painful but humanizing words she spoke after handing him a simple house key. But not this time. In their place there were only memories of her with Stiles, whether real or imagined.
Claws dug into pavement as he let out a ferocious, inhuman roar. The wolf flooded through him before he could stop it.
A sound. Something behind him. Or someone. He twisted around, ready to attack. But before he could locate the source, he caught a glimpse of the moon, just barely peeking out between the clouds.
Full.
He didn’t understand how or why. But the sight gave him a sudden rush of clarity. The tiniest edge of control. Get away! Get out!
He took off, away from the apartments. Running as fast as he could, remaining on two feet instead of all fours as others of his kind tended to do. He didn’t know the city. Where it started or ended, or what lay beyond its streets. Even if he had known the lay out, the roar anger and fear inside him detracted from any conscious ability to navigate.
He just ran.
no subject
He crashed to the forest floor. Head and back colliding with gnarled roots with enough force that a human may have struggled to recover. For him, it was just the shock of pain he needed. He stopped fighting. The snarl faded from his face, though he remained transformed. At least for a moment. It was only with some effort that his face looked more human, but his eyes remained blue.
"Who the hell are you!?" he demanded, confusion creeping over the anger.
no subject
He gingerly shifts a little bit off of Jackson; enough so it's more comfortable, but still close enough that he can pin him back to the ground if he needs to. There's a look that Jackson might be able to read in those bright gold eyes: he's keeping an eye on you, Jackson.
There's a huff and he playfully shoves at one of Jackson's shoulder with one large paw: are you okay now?