amusebox | Open RP Post

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[ Jackson always knew there was something weird about Isaac Lahey. Aside from him and his dad being complete freaks. He thinks there was a mom there at some point maybe - it would have been a while ago and frankly Jackson doesn't pay that much attention to Isaac Lahey - and in all honesty, it seems like Isaac's better off without the dad too. Granted, it's not something Jackson really likes to think on a lot. Not now. Not with those memories fresh and jarring in his head. For a long time, he'd avoided Isaac for that reason specifically, but eventually, after having Derek kick the sad little traumatized teenger out of him (or at least shove it done far enough that it doesn't show (Jackson's pretty good at that anyway)), it just became something he didn't think of around him.

He doesn't see him as his neighbor anymore - he sees him as pack, and that's all that is.

And, unfortunately, that pack bound now is feeding Jackson a little more about Isaac's mental state that Jackson really wanted to know. He's freaking the fuck out, and it's not just a 'oh god we're going to starve to death or have to resort to cannabilism' thing because Isaac isn't a moron. It's something else. Something intense. And something Jackson doesn't know how to place. He's never seen him like this, and even as he's slumping casually back against the wall next to the door, his eyes are sharp on him and tone layered with something a little freaked out. ]

Christ, chill. [ A little incredulous with his tone. ] Derek knows this is where we came looking. When we don't come back, he'll come get us.

If you're worried about missing Glee, it's okay. The internet exists.

[ what even is heeding warnings ]

[Very funny, Jackson. Isaac never watched much television after his father stopped paying for regular cable. Their old, thick-bodied tv would've gotten dusty if it wasn't the youth's job to keep all of the house spick and span. He does it to the apartment now, without being told. Shoplifted some Swiffer products earlier that week, in fact, and gave the whole place a neat once-over. He'd done it when no one was home, and when Derek got home earlier than expected, just in time to see him getting rid of the evidence, he'd said he didn't like slobs. Not that it was engrained. Not that his fingers itches when there were dishes left in the sink because Peter and Jackson were so used to their betas or their mommy taking care of them.]

Shut up! [Guttural. That's how he sounds. Like he is grunting out the words through shards of glass thrown at his face. Fuck. Fuck. He hasn't had an attack in-- what? At least a month or two? So now he's ramming himself against the door. Once, twice, three times, before there's this ugly sound coming from the vicinity of his shoulder. Like maybe he broke something.

His nails are elongating-- his eyes taking on a low glow. The telltale lupine features starting to contort his face.

Jackson's presence isn't all that soothing. No offense.]

[ He's a funny man, and it hasn't actually escaped him much that he sees Isaac giving him stink eye every time he leaves a plate on the coffee table, not in the dishwasher. That doesn't mean he's made any effort to correct it, but he's noticed it. Peter's likely the same, and maybe it should be sort of disturbing to Jackson that Peter is the one he seems most comfortable with, at least in terms of demeanor and house manners, but 'creepy uncle Peter' has sort of because a constant for the loft turned commune that is the hang out for the pack. Originally, Jackson didn't think he'd spend much time there, but the 'pack' feeling is a little more appealing and a little more subtle than he'd thought.

That said, when Isaac starts snarling over some passing snide joke, one of five million Jackson's likely to make in a day, it's as obvious as a swift kick in the face that something is wrong. For a moment, Jackson's just sort of staring, brow furrowed and body tense because what the shit, Isaac.

It's that sickening sort of cracking sound that has him snapping into motion, seeing teeth growing and claws coming out, and Jackson's surging forward to try to brace him against the far wall - just make him stop. ]

Calm the fuck down, Lahey! It's not the end of the world. We're fine. [ For the sake of aggression, his eyes flare that cold blue tone and lips pull back to bare teeth. But it's that only - just a show. ]

[Disturbing is right. Nobody likes Peter. They only tolerate him and feel as if something important was taken when he holds them in a chair and tears a hole into their memories. And neck. Somedays, Isaac gets real sick of being the housebitch, so to speak. Some respect would be nice. You know. Small doses. Big doses. At least Derek's been less with the physical violence as of late. Jackson's more a magnet for that brand of beta 'teaching,' because he never knows when to shut up, and Isaac? Isaac questions but he stops pretty fast.

Speaking of violence, shoving Isaac to the wall wasn't the soundest choice. Fear threatens to break the rest of his bones-- grind him to dust, because he doesn't like the tight space and now Jackson's made it tighter. He slashes outward, too caught up in horrible sense memory to care that it's his pack mate he's tearing at. All he knows is claws catching flesh makes him feel some semblance of control over the situation. As if he's fighting the darkness and the walls pushing in together-- not another living being.

Derek likes to have them spar together. They have different styles-- Isaac gets brash. Jackson's always gonna run slightly cold-blooded. This isn't the same as that, though. This isn't Isaac holding back because he doesn't really want to hurt another beta, and he'd get reprimanded if he did.]

[ The convenient thing about those sparring sessions being that Jackson has a decent idea what Isaac's About To Claw A Face Off looks like, and there's that split instant for him to figure out it's time to back the fuck off, making it free with just a shallow cut across his chest, but the sting of it still drags a sharp hiss from Jackson. Followed by a curse, because wow, there goes his shirt. He liked this shirt. He'd jumped back half way across the room, out of arm's length, and bright, unnatural eyes are gleaming in the dimness of the closest, a low growl emitting. ]

Seriously? Is this what we're doing this right now? [ He doesn't know what the fuck snapped in Isaac and he really couldn't care less. He's not about to be the punching, or shredding, bag for this whacked out kid's mental issues.

He's fought Isaac plenty of times before, even as the Kanima and not a member of Derek's pack, not really. And he's also not that worried about hurting him. He'll heal. The aspect of Jackson getting hurt is much less appealing that suffering through Derek growling at him. Besides, Isaac's never exactly been easy to land one on him - and he sees that difference in him, between aggravatingly holding back in sparring and now, when he's just trying to destroy out of some feral panic. So not even dealing with that shit, and his features are completely transformmed as Jackson's hunching his shoulders, watching. ]

It's just a room, you freaking psycho.

[The shirt should really be the least of Jackson's worries, even if the cost of it was probably akin to the pack's grocery budget for the whole week. Douchewolf being loaded has been nice in some ways and constantly aggravating in others. He's still got parents, even, which is a lot more than Isaac could hope for himself and-- okay. Maybe parents aren't that great. Parents are why he's like this in the first place. A mongrel, because he is terrified out of his wits and the only thing he can think to do is fight his way out.

They're both transformed, though Isaac less on purpose than as a consequence of rising adrenaline. He doesn't wait long before following after Jackson, mouth open in a snarl before he feints back and-- and gives himself. Half a moment to hazily attempt to remember who he is.

No. Gone again. Pressing forward again and he's taller if not stronger and this isn't going to be pleasant.]

[ Shit shit shit, there is not a lot of room to avoid in a tight storage closet like this, and that's usually what can save Jackson - he's fast, and he can manuever battlefields like lacrosse fields, ducking and weaving. Not something that's very valuable when a duck or weaves will only get you an inch out of arm's length. He tries from something smarter anyway - Isaac's losing it, throwing his all into this and not that same kind of calculating focus that he usually is, so a swerve to the side and Jackso slides under a claw coming towards his face just enough to get himself behind him - here he can give a quick, bodily shove to force Isaac into that wall Jackson's back had almost been up against a second ago.

Hands are immediately going for his arms, trying to find a way to just restrain him, and with how much bigger and frankly more powerful Isaac is than him, it takes Jackson forcing a hip against his just to keep him pinned.

There's snarling, growling, and the occasional near roar - something Jackson might have thought would be absurd before he actually was a werewolf, but now, transformed and in more of a headspace of an animal than a snotty, sarcastic teenager, it's an attempt at dominance - a threat. And in this case a warning. There's not really a place for words anymore, because Isaac isn't hear them. Just force, struggle, and that primal snapping and snarling. The fact his body is basically totally flush and near grinding against Isaac's doesn't even really strike him as odd at the moment. ]

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someday I will upload wolfy icons for now disdainful face

sob someday colton haynes will come back to the show and ill get actual wolfy icons ;;