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Welcome to New York, home of the city that never sleeps. That couldn’t be more true. Recently, the Angels were shot down from Heaven and their wings were revoked by the Reapers. The race was disbanded and now the balance of power is off in the worst way possible. The Demon’s aren’t hesitant in the least bit to take advantage of this time before balance is somehow restored. Humans fight to be heard while Witches fear to be seen. Shape shifters are the outcasts of this world, but refuse to be put down. Werewolves claw to be at the top of the food chain, but Vampires are always plotting and scheming to be superior. Valyrian is a bustling realm of Elves and Dragons that fight their own war.

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 Baby Steps
Finnigan Walker
 Posted: May 27 2018, 10:11 PM

Active Member

Age // 36

Posts // 59

Rank // Lone Wolf/Pup

Nicknames // Finn

Species // Werewolf

Status // Single + Gay


New growth cannot exist without first the destruction of the old

Mason + Eastern Standard Time + He/Him

New Zealand, February 2007

Finnigan sat in a poorly lit room, or rather a broom closet really. The flickering of the overhanging light illuminating the small space, the only other source being a small barred window which bled in light from a street post. His arms rested on his knees with his head dipped, panting as he tried to calm himself. A now irregular drip of blood leaked from his nose, adding to the small puddle between his feet caused by a broken nose. He wore only a pair of shorts, bandages around his wrists and hands, and a now dirty and bloodied tank top which clung to his torso from sweat. In the middle of summer, even the nights in New Zealand were humid; it caused a film of sweat to coat Finn, even has he rested now, making his bleeding look worse. The witch took a deep breath before he swirled his tongue to collect the contents of his mouth, lifted his head, and spat out a combination of blood, spit, and a tooth. He watched it land before he dropped his head back down.

From behind him, the door opened, and the quick, familiar footsteps clanged out in the otherwise silent room. Finnigan didn't look up. "You're going to get yourself killed." He didn't answer either. Cooper stood behind Finnigan, watching him with worried eyes as he held a basin of warm water. He stood there in silence for a moment, waiting for a response, but sighed to himself as the Englishman didn't reply. With his steps more steadied, he walked around to face Finn, kneeling to face him.

The two met each other quite by chance; at a local pub. Cooper was infatuated with Finnigan instantly. Charming, witty, and a fighter. He had to admit, the skill and masculinity that came with the notion turned Cooper on more than he'd like to admit. They had spent months together, and it worked out well for the pair. Being a Healer, Cooper was more than happy to help Finn out if he came back from a match with a bruise or sprain. Though the more time they spent together, the more serious Finn's injuries became, and the more suspicious the islander became until Cooper realized that Finn wasn't just sparring, but entering underground leagues and matches. The brutality of these matches completely took Cooper off guard. He only returned because of Finn.

"Did you hear me?" Cooper asked again, putting his hand on Finn's shoulder.
"...yes..." Finn's voice hoarse.
Cooper sighed, gently pushing Finn back until he rested against the backrest. Cooper gasped to himself as he saw Finn. His nose wasn't just broken, but the bone had broken through the skin and stuck out. His left eye was almost swollen shut, his bottom lip swollen and split, and his right cheekbone housed a gash.
"Then why are you doing this to yourself?" There was pleading in Cooper's voice. "You're not just fighting for sport, you're being reckless. You're going to get yourself killed!" He repated again, this time with more weight in the sentance.

Finn opened his mouth to speak but was only able to cough in response. This was not a match he won. But Finn didn't care. Not anymore. Shaking his head, Cooper grabbed a cloth from the basin, wringing it out before placing the warm cloth on Finn's forehead, slowly starting to wipe the sweat and blood from his face. The Healer worked in silence, and Finn didn't take his eye off him as he did.

Once he was finished, Cooper placed his hands on the bridge on Finn's nose, looked at him apologetically, and snapped his nose back into place, causing Finn to cry out. They both knew it needed to be done.

He unwrapped the bandages from Finn's arms, and placed them on a small table in the room, along with the dirtied basin, before bringing Finnigan's arm around his shoulder and helping him to his feet. He limped, but followed Cooper out, back towards Cooper's house where he would be fixed up. Above them, clouds drifted across the nearly full moon as they walked in the dead of night.

"... Coop.... I'm sorry, Cooper. I'm.... sorry Cooper.... sorry...."

pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source

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