solitarius

The lights were too bright. Everything was too loud. Her head hurt. Her chest hurt. Though just waking up, she felt exhausted. Pippa Bardon hovered in between consciousness and her prior, unconcious state. Her eyes fluttered, though she kept them closed. The brunette’s lids felt heavy, but she was slowly waking and trying to piece together the chain of events. She was distracted, recognizing different things as her mind kept whirring. This brought another throb of pain and Pippa slipped back into the darkness.

Awakening once more, Pippa decided to check herself methodically, starting at the bottom and working her way up. She focused the best he could, and wiggled her toes. Only one set cooperated. Perplexing, but she soldiered on. She moved the parts just enough to make sure they were in working order, but shifting her upper body hurt. Pippa took in a sharp breath, and hissed and flinched once more in reaction. Conceding, she tried to get used to being awake, and let her eyes flutter open once again. A blurry figure was coming into focus and Pippa did her best to ask it, “are my sisters okay??”

jasper had been at st mungos all night; all night spent pacing in the lobby when they wouldn’t let him see her, all night spent watching her various family members flurry around, all night spent clutching her hand as she slept after they’d done all they could to repair the damage that had been done. jasper had been through years of painful transformations, month after month of fear and anguish as his bones broke and shifted-----but nothing prepared him for the gut-wrenching terror of thinking he could LOSE pippa. the cold stab through his heart as he saw what someone-----a person, a bigger monster than he could ever be on his worst days----had inflicted on her. and he hadn’t been there. he hadn’t been there. his hand tightened around hers as she slept, and he promised that he’d do everything in his power to make sure something like this never happened to her again. pippa didn’t deserve this kind of pain-----she didn’t deserve to be lying, still and unconscious in a hospital bed, while whoever had done this was out there (and he wasn’t sure if it were the wolf in him, but the part of him that wanted to hunt down whoever was responsible for her injuries are tear them apart was growing by the second). it wasn’t right. none of this was right.

pippa stirred, breaking him from his thoughts, and he was sure he’d never been so happy to see someone open their eyes, “pippa---” he breathed,, shifting his chair closer to her, reaching out to smooth back her hair. in answer to her question, he nodded, “they’re----they’re fine, rory is here, nat is---” in the bed next to you, he thought grimly, “she’s here too----hurt, but here, and annie----” had come and gone a few times, “-----is home, but she’ll be back soon, once she hears you’re awake. do you need, uh, anything? water? a nurse? i----” his head dipped, eyes shining with relieved tears, “i didn’t know when you’d wake up, and i------just tell me what you need.”

Pearls around her neck and her hand around yours, stroking or choking, Pippa Bardon was capable of much more than what she let on. She consisted of wild eyes, soft lips, and a look that dared you to get closer.  It was the look of a siren; enchanting and distracting, ready to lure in the victim and into a deep grave when reality hit them a second too late. Pippa was pink, but she had the potential to be TERRIFYING if she worked up enough effort to unearth her lethality that slept beneath bright smiles and the highest of heels standing upon its grave. In truth, her untapped potential laid dormant in the cage beneath her chest, and Pippa fully intended to keep it that way. It bubbled up occasionally, peeking through the most in her fencing, and only mentioned if the current (often darker) company required it in rarer scenarios.

Pippa’s face lit up when a familiar, groggy one came into view. “Thrusting is a lesson for another day,” she decided with a firm nod and a wink. She put away her blade and soon sidled up next to Jasper, making note of the small smile flickering across his face. “Hello, handsome,” she said as she matched it with one of her own. His smiles still made half of her heart flutter and the other half want to flee in terror, but she was going to stay, stay, stay. “You didn’t,” Pippa reassured as she laced their fingers together, dipping her head to touch foreheads, “how was your nap?” She lingered in that position before nudging the small of his back toward the kitchen. “I’ve got some chicken wings waiting to be cooked with your name on them!”

no one would be able to tell by looking at him, but jasper sial had once been an affectionate boy—before he’d been bitten, before he’d left his parents (people who wanted to love him but couldn’t help fearing him) and before he’d learned through a mixture of necessity and bad luck that being alone was lonely but it was also practical and safe for someone with his condition---and for everyone around him. but being a werewolf—or rather, being a werewolf who had tried to keep his status from being public knowledge—required a certain amount of ISOLATION on his part, so Jasper had gotten used to a lack of affection—physical or otherwise. he’d accepted that, although there were days, especially after the full moon, when a comforting hand or someone to lean on would be nice, it probably wasn’t in the cards for him.

and then pippa bardon swept into his life like a beautiful, brilliant hurricane and suddenly what he’d thought was impossible didn’t seem quite so out of reach. there were times when it was still surreal to him, that pippa was still around—not because he was unaware of the strength she kept hidden beneath coy smiles and fluttering lashes, but because pippa was pippa and if she wanted she could have someone who could give her so much more (and put her through so much less) than he did. still, he wouldn’t let his occasional doubts ruin what they had—he’d welcome pippa into his life for as long as she wanted to stay. leaning into her touch, he nodded, “it was all right; a little sore but…” but that was to be expected int he days before a full moon. his eyes lit up, lips quirking upward—wings were his favorite, “yeah?” his arms came to rest across her shoulders, pulling her close as they walked towards the kitchen, “sounds perfect… d'you have any plans for... the next few days?”

Heels together, body erect, head raised, shoulders drawn back, and a smirk fighting the thin facade of a straight face. Pippa made a dramatic flourish, mimicking a f-ncing salute. “En garde. Pret. Allez!” She made a show of taking a quick leap forward and following the balestra with a lunge, stabbing the air next to her companion. It was a flurry of swift motion. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” She steps forward and angles her feet, tucking one behind the other into first position. Pippa raised the foil up to her face, before swooshing it down to the side. “That’s a SALUTE,” she demonstrated before stepping into the ‘ready’ position, “and that’s EN GARDE.” Pippa glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous gleam. “ –- Now, do you know how to THRUST?”

jasper shuffled into the room, the noise from pippa and her guest’s swordplay having woken him up from a nap—not an unusual occurrence considering the time of the month. “pippa, hey…” he tried and failed to stifle a yawn, one that turned into a grimace as he stretched his arms upwards, straining his already-sore muscles—just another added perk of the upcoming full moon. he knew he probably looked a mess, frustration clear on his face, though it wasn’t with pippa or her friend; still, he couldn’t muster up the energy, it seemed, to be anything but grumpy. closing his eyes, he leaned against the doorframe, head resting on the wall as he flexed his hand, trying to relieve a bit of the stiffness.

“thrusting is a lesson for another day,” He heard pippa say, and ducked his head to hide his smile at the innuendo; pippa’s quick wit was one of the few things that could break through the sense of impending doom that came the days before a full moon. as her friend left, he moved further into the room, a small and lazy smile on his face—very small, but still there. “sorry if I cut your plans short,” he said, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, his head finding a new resting place on her shoulder, “m’hungry—are you?”