Friday, February 22, 2013

Story Line ~ Zszadist answers Qhuinn's pressing questions.




Zszadist Ghardian
*Cracking my neck as I push open the door to the Training Center, I readjust my duffle as I stride through as the doors slam shut behind me. Music blares loud through out the room as I spot Qhuinn knocking the shit out of the punching bag. His brow is furrowed in a grimace as he attacks the sack with as much force as though he's taking on a fucking lesser. Dropping my bag and leaning against the wall, I watch his every strike and arch a brow as he turns his attention my way. Without a word, I walk over and hold the bag in place*


Qhuinn Ghardian
*Not caring about Drs orders, I need to work out. Since waking up, a weighted pressure has sat on my chest making breathing hard and fraying away my sanity. Freak. The word repeats over and over, despite the music blaring. The word matches tempo with each punch I level at the bag and with each jab, my strike intensifies. Freak. Punch. Freak. Jab. You should've been put down. Strike. I can't delete the nightmare from my mind and instead of finding the needed release, I scream toward breaking. I throw my arm and notice movement at the door. Zszadist is here, watching the way he always does, assessing. Fuck, maybe the Scribe Virgin is listening.*

Zszadist Ghardian 
*Bracing my hands around the bag and narrowing my eyes as he jabs left, left, right, his gaze intense as he throws his weight into the bag. Sweat drips down the sides of his face, covering his entire body as his fists pummel the leather sack. Qhuinn's neck muscles flex and strains as he screams, roaring as he throws a punch hard enough to send it hard into my hands. Fuck, the kid must have something on his mind. I have fucking great timing. Lifting a brow, I try thirty different ways inside my head to ask if he wants to talk about it* Make sure you are hydrating yourself.

Qhuinn Ghardian
*I grunt a thank you as Z takes the bag, holding it firm. Now would be a good time to ask him questions only he can answer. Like how the fuck did he stand the worry, the fear, the not knowing if his shellan and young would be okay. Layla may not be my female but I still feel just as protective. I can't find the words, my fears front and center in my mind. I envision my nightmares being the leather bag and pummel it. As if destroying the physical will eliminate the mental. I almost don't here Z's comment about hydrating. It knocks me back into the present. I grunt again, never missing a beat* Will do.

Zszadist Ghardian
*The cords of Qhuinn's veins strain against his flesh as he strikes the bag once more, backs up and shuffles his feet as he moves his head side to side. The creases in his forehead still furrowed as his gaze intensifies on the punching bag. The kid has speed and his strike is nearly lethal as he rears for another punch* What the fuck did this bag do to you?

Qhuinn Ghardian 
*I pause, using the opportunity to drag fresh air into my lungs and furrow my brow. I look to where Z is staring and see the bag's stitching starting to unravel. My fists throb from my striking force and I step back again* Just thinking. Guess I was channeling some of the frustrations I've been dealing with. *Just mentioning it makes me want to swing some more at the bag but I gesture to Z* Want me to hold? *You nod and ready yourself, getting into a familiar stance. After the first rep of hard hitting punches, I blurt out what's on my mind* Tell me I'm worrying for nothing. That this fear *I clench my teeth* this fear ends.

Zszadist Ghardian
*My fist connecting with the leather, I stop short and turn to him. Nodding my head, understanding what the male is going through. Backing up and holding my fist tight to my chest before my next strike, the jab with as much force to send the kid back a bit. I look up to see his jaw clenched as he awaits my answer. With an uppercut to the bag, I pound into it with three quick jabs* Layla has your young inside her regardless if you have claimed her as your mate. This is just the beginning of your worry. *Cracking my neck as I asses the bag once more and picking my strike zone* Impending fatherhood is a bitch, kid.

Qhuinn Ghardian
Fuck *I mutter under my breath. I'm not sure what I was expecting but Zs response confirms that this tension and pressure is here to stay* How the hell did you survive it? *I stare at the male, desperate for anything that might help* I'm not talking about the crazy ass moods Layla gets into. I mean *I wipe the sweat from my brow, trying to find the right words* I'm worried. No fuck that. I'm terrified there's going to be something ... wrong with the young. *I let out a loud breath, my worst fear vocalized*

Zszadist Ghardian 
*Rubbing the back of my neck and assessing the youngling, how the fuck do I tell him that the stress and worry he feels now is nothing compared to the moment his young sucks in air for the first time. How do I tell him I was too much of a headfuck to even focus on Nalla the first months after her day of birth. I'm the last person this kid should be talking to about fucking dealing with his emotions. Lifting a brow and going back into my stance, I focus back on the bag and throw my fist into it.* It's natural, kid. That's flesh of your flesh within the womb of the shellan. *Knocking my fist into the sack once more* And you sure as fuck don't want to do what I did to deal with my...*wiping my forehead with the crook of my arm* nerves.

Qhuinn Ghardian
That's the thing, Z *I hold the bag, stopping it from swinging and stare at the Brother* I'm not dealing with this. Sure, I smile and I do whatever the hell is needed but I'm flying by the seat of my damn leathers. I have no fucking idea how to help Layla. Shit, I can't even get her ice cream quick enough without wearing some of it. She needs more than I can give her. She needs a mate, a hellren and I'm not that for her. *I release the bag, and stare down at my wrapped hands* Fuck, I've never felt so damn helpless. Show me a Lesser and I know what to do. Point me in the direction of someone fucking with my boy JM and I'll gut them where they stand. Fighting, being a warrior, its natural like breathing. But this *I tap my temple, frustrated* I can't kill these fucking demons and their tormenting me. They know my worst fears and they flay me with them. *I stop talking and take in a deep breath* Night after fucking night.

Zszadist Ghardian
*Qhuinn's chest expands and contracts rapidly as he explodes into an emotional upheaval. And like a fucking steakhead, all I could do is stand there and nod as he listed off every emotion that filled my being when my shellan was with my young. Rubbing the top of my head and hoping the friction would spark something wise and insightful to the kid, I look down at the floor. How the fuck did I deal with my head demons when Bella was with young. I could count the fuck ups in my head, listing the shit and cringing inwardly. I stopped eating properly, feeding, obsessed about her every movement. Blowing out a slow breath, then there was Phury's shit going on at the same fucking time.* Qhuinn, I wish I could tell you everything will be okay. That this shit in your head will just vanish. But I'm not that fucking male. You want smoke blown up your ass that the nightmares will stop and everything will be just peachy fucking keen, go talk to Havers. *Looking Qhuinn dead in the eyes and lowering my brows* If you didn't fucking worry about if the young would be okay, you aren't fucking fit to be a father. If you didn't worry about the mahmen of your young, then you are a worthless fuck. You feel me?

Qhuinn Ghardian
*I hold your gaze, feeling the conviction and understanding you meaning. Talking to you was definitely what I needed and I nod* You know what, I do. *I let out an abrupt chuckle and shake my head, trying to process the new information* There is no magic solution. Chances are this mindfuck is going to continue and if I'm hearing you right, gets worse when my young will be born. This shit isn't going to change and I'm just going to have to roll with the punches. Am I feeling you right? *You nod and I let out a breath. I place my hands on the bag, this time not wanting to decimate it. I cock my head as the beginning of a thought, a realization forms* But this is normal. I'm not fucking up like always. *It's right on the tip of my tongue, a fucking epiphany and I take a swing at the bag, a light tap compared to the others* It's gonna be okay. Shit will come but you're right. I do worry and because of that, I'll be ready to face it. *I take a harder swing* And like everything else in my life, come out stronger. For me. For Layla. For our young.

Zszadist Ghardian 
*Shaking my head as I hold tight to the bag as he starts pounding into it, his features less intense.* Qhuinn, if you think you will ever be prepared, you're fucking wrong. *Narrowing my stare and hating the Dr. Fucking Phil shit spewing out my mouth* You can never be truly fucking prepared for what parenthood brings you. All you can do is fucking be there for Layla. Right now, she's your priority, you feel me? *Nodding slightly as his eyes widen* And if the shit gets raw, you've got the brotherhood to back you up. Fuck, if I had only leaned a little... *Licking the corner of my mouth, realizing I was this close to getting emotive with the kid* Look, you're going to love your young no matter what, true? *Looking him square in the eyes* Whether he or she has any malformed features or whatever, you're going to love the young.

Qhuinn Ghardian
*I nod, taking your advice to heart* It's all about her, man. And when the young is here, all about them. If there's anything I know real well, its that * I think of my role as AN to John, my willingness to lay it all on the line to keep him alive and safe.* Thanks for this, Z. I can see why JM speaks so highly of you. *I don't add anything else, letting silence fill the air as I strike the bag again. There was no definite cure and answer to all this, but strangely there was. I roll my shoulders, lowering myself back into a deeper stance and finish up my workout, Z partnering me. Not alone.* ~

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