vatheon | [ ♑ ] and after death he said...

Entry tags:

[ ♑ ] and after death he said...

who: grand highblood & summoner

when: after the summoner comes back from 'death'

where: the forest

style: doesn't matter

status: closed

Coming back from the dead is all right. Meh.

The Grand Highblood didn't know what to expect when he was to be revived after being efficiently tortured and maimed to death, much to his delight (and someways, annoyance). It could hurt, it could be lame, it could be just a blink of an eye. He wasn't sure what he felt when he realized he was finally himself again, no injuries, nothing, just standing in the middle of the plaza like a confused wriggler.

All right, so things with Darkleer were getting pretty heavy, but that's about all that had changed...if that's even the right word for it, and all's well like it should've been. He searched for any signs of the fluttering troll, checked the networks, anything, to confirm his return but there had been nothing. It was silent in Vatheon and the island about the Summoner's whereabouts, and was claimed to be officially 'dead', which really irritated him.

He was in denial for a bit, hiding and sulking in places around the island and the forest near his hive, but he avoided the trolls mostly because he definitely did not wish to be sopored. Bring on the fire, the pain, break his bones, smash his teeth, he didn't give a shit...but keep that neon green sludge away from his insides. So, he's having one of those days just sitting in the forest, bored as fuck, listening to the chattering and twittering of animals as they warned each other of a hulking presence. He thinks it's stupid how the forest of all fucking places is the place he visits when he's bored instead of the old church and cave areas.

Propped up against a tree, the highblood had actually decided to forgo a shirt and sat there staring at the various scars running all over his abdomen, tracing them idly with a finger. He's also got a couple of scars on his neck where Darkleer's fingers had plunged in, a splotchy looking one on the back of his hand where Summoner had driven the knife into and cracked back, and the eye that the same troll had gouged out was back but the stab wound on the skin around the eye remained in a short gash. He was starting up a collection, seriously.

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[Answer it you ass hole.]

[He takes the device out, feeling it buzz, and clicks a few buttons with his stupidly large fingers.]

[Summoner's contemplated the right time to go about this, talking to the Grand Highblood, but then he just- realized he didn't care. He should just get it done. He wasn't like before, he knew what was going on, knew how to deal with this, so he was going to just approach it like and adult.]

[You know, civil.]

hEY 1NDICK,
hAVE SOME T1ME 1NBETWEEN L1CK1NG YOUR WOUNDS?

[Real civil, jackass.]

[It takes him a moment to respond, what with being really confused and all, but he manages.]

The motherfuck
DO YOU ALL MOTHERFUCKING WANT?
Didn't know you being dead all up and stopped being a thing.

yES, 1'M BACK.
1T'S BEEN QU1TE A LONG T1ME FOR ME BUT UH,
wE CAN JUST SK1P ALL THAT AND GET DOWN TO BUS1NESS.
1 TH1NK THAT WOULD BE FOR THE BEST.

aRE YOU FREE TO TALK?

Yeah, motherfucker, why don't you all come on down to the usual motherfucking spot?
UNLESS THAT'S JUST ALL UP AND TOO MUCH FOR YOUR SHITTY FAIRY ASS.

nOT AT ALL.
hOPE YOU'RE TH1RSTY.

Heh.
COCKY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER.

yEAH.

[With that he disconnects and starts on his way towards the forest. he knows where the Highblood is already, already has a few sets of eyes on him, but not many. He's not as paranoid as he once was, now just more experienced over all, besides, he doesn't need to plan out some large encounter, all he wants to do is talk, and he has a feeling the Highblood will respect that once some words are spoken.]

[Eventually he nears the forest and begins to fly over it, heading towards where the other troll rests. His wings at such a larger size, move even more silently, catching the air effortlessly as he starts to descend, soon lowering between leaves and branches and eventually planting his feet on the ground. His mind is rather calm, despite who he is visiting right now, but- he knows how the Grand Highblood is when he sees someone is scared or nervous, it's better to just collect himself the best he can and get this over with.]

Yoo hoo- come out come out where ever you are~

[A shrug of his shoulders, leaning forward a little, wings fluttering to a close behind him. He knows where he is... not too far off from this small clearing. But Lysunder doesn't glance in the direction he knows the other is in, infact, he's facing away from it completely.]

[It'd be a lie to say that he's not looking forward to seeing the Summoner again after he had died. It's been a long time for him? What did that even mean? He assumes he means that the respawning time had been a little longer than usual, since he can't exactly imagine that the Summoner had actually been gone for sweeps.]

[He keeps a close look out, but still propped up lazily against the tree, and then a noisy flutter catches his attention and he sits up straight, about to get up and follow the noise when he sees the Summoner just a bit away. His back is to him, but he can still see what he really wanted to see, but there's something different about them.

They're. Bigger? Grander than usual, even if the difference isn't by that much, and he catches himself staring once again. Then his eyes trail over the scars all over his back and can't help but grin to himself when he recognizes some of them from just a couple of weeks ago.]

Turn the motherfuck around, you stupid shit! [He calls out to him loud enough, and then he's back to sitting against the tree, one leg bent so he can rest an arm on it, the other sprawled open.]

Ehh nah.

[Keeping his back turned to a rabid animal, of all people Summoner knows that to be a dumb idea. But doing something like that can be one of two things, stupid, or a mix of arrogance and confidence, also able to be worded as- well he's being a cocky little shit.]

Come with me, let's have a seat.

[He lifts a hand , flicking it forward, gesturing for the other to follow him and with that he pockets his hands and heads into the trees. Summoner's already got a spot planned out and heads in that direction, eventually taking a seat on a rather large rock situation next to a tree.. From there he props up a foot on one knee and pulls out a rather large bottle of liquor, opens it, and takes a swig. The whole time he doesn't even give the other a glance, doesn't make any eye contact. He doesn't need to, they'll look at eachother once the huge fuck sits down.]

[He snorts, but he's kind of used to this behavior from Summoner. He's not sure why exactly, but his annoyance and hatred for the lowblood is a little different from the one with Darkleer. This one seems a little more high maintenance, involved more...work, and yet he feels more compelled to continue this ridiculous highblood/lowblood song and dance.]

Already had a motherfucking seat all up and working for a brother.

[He climbs to his feet though, making his way over to where the Summoner sat and noticed the booze. Yeah, there are a few ways to this troll's blood pusher, and alcohol is certainly one of them. He didn't drink as much as he'd like, but when he got the chance, he enjoyed it.]

Well, now ain't that something? [And then he sits. And then he sees. And then he just...looks. really. confused.] The fuck?

[Summoner'd assume the Highblood was getting used to it by now. He wasn't going to find the type of respect he was used to expecting from lowbloods, or really anyone. Summoner was scared of him before yes, but now? No. He doesn't fear him, hell, he respects the bastard in a lot of ways. How the Highblood fights his own battles with his own hands instead of hiding behind others or a lusus, he fights alongside his men- not exactly with them, but that's a part that makes Summoner dislike him. Hating the Highblood was confusing because the troll was extremely formidable and had the power to do so much-

but instead he murders for fun and follows the sea hag like a loyal hound. Almost made Summoner want to vomit it was so frustrating. But he's got an idea of how to deal with him here. He's willing to approach it if it means a lack of drama bullshit from the other troll.]

Uh- what?

[A curious glance, looking down at the other troll as soon as he questions him. Summoner takes another swig from the bottle, soon leaning forward a little on his legs, relaxing, the bottle dangling from his fingers.]

[To be honest, this whole thing right now was a little strange to the highblood, just because he knew that the Summoner has never really done something like this before. It felt like either a trap or a surprisingly cordial offer to just...sit. Which is weird, what with having brutally ripped off his wings and all.

He's not too wary, especially not to let it show on the outside, but wary enough as he leans forward slightly in his seat. Yeah, he's pretty sure this is not the same Summoner he knew. Looked older, though age had treated him surprisingly well for a lowblood, and of course his wings are larger.]

You've motherfucking aged. All up and one of the motherfucking lowest of the fucking low, I know, but even two motherfucking weeks is too fast to do all that-- [Gestures vaguely around his face.] Heh. Not that a brother is all complaining or nothing.

Edited 2012-07-16 20:26 (UTC)

[Lysunder is acting strangely cordial considering what has gone on between them! Wow, good going Highblood, you are so smart. Just ignore that thought though since all we're gonna go is sit and drink.

And talk.]

[The Summoner leans closer along with the Grand Highblood, his eyelids low, face with a slight smile but it's most suppressed.]

Well aren't you a fuckin' sleuth. I uh- didn't know you took up investigating as an interest, always thought you'd like to go in blind. [A laugh, leaning back, his smile growing.]

Especially now with that eye I left you, see okay, big guy?

[He's not addressing how much older he is yet, he'll get to it. For now he's trying to just casually talk, ease into things. Summoner realizes it's... a bit different, his looks, his age, though the Highblood hasn't really pieced together the whole time difference thing yet. Maybe he will, maybe he'll have to baby him through it. He expects the latter.]

[When the Summoner leans forward, he leans back in his seat, smirking a little. He has no idea how the whole time difference thing works and if that's even a thing someone could do. So yeah, baby him through it, even if he'll hate him for it.]

Just motherfucking fine, heh. Went through a hell of a lot worse, that it don't even motherfucking compare.

[Eh, well, he doesn't really mind at this point. He just assumes he'll tell him eventually. There's no hurry.]

Drink?

[Smiles, handing the bottle over with a small smile.]

And then I'll try to dumb down things so you get it. I know how hard it is for you to focus on using whatever's in that thought dome of yours.

[He snatches the bottle from him with a sneer, taking a swig before glaring at him.]

Never gets motherfucking old, now does it, motherfucker?

Nah, but I certainly did. [His expression looks a little sad at that, it was a joke, but, it hurt him more than he thought it would. But he tries to keep a calm expression.]

Mighta been weeks for you, but it's been 10 sweeps for me, chucklefuck.

[He tilts his head a little, still staring at him. That bit of information... he's not exactly sure what to make of it, though it makes his lips twitch downward.]

Heh, 10 sweeps, huh? [He takes another drink, swirling the rest of the contents after and holding it out.] I can all see the motherfucking lines on your face.

Yeah.

[A sigh, watching the bottle swirl before snagging it up. He feels like he should cringe at the idea of putting his mouth on this after the Highblood, but- he doesn't. Besides he's too focused on the other's words right now. His expression is distant, contemplative, and a little downtrodden. It's just been ten sweeps, hell, that's a drop in the barrel to the indigo sitting with him isn't it? And yet sometimes Summoner can actually feel him self aging- it's terrible.]

[He stares at the bottle in his hand for a long moment, ignoring the tug in his chest before dipping back another swig of the fire liquid inside.]

Ah- let's move on though. There's something else we need to talk about. [A slight gasp after the burn falls down his throat, eyeing the bottle. A few swigs left at best- better not waste it.]

If that's all right with you?

[It's funny how he didn't even think twice about putting his lips to the bottle either. Bodily fluids just don't bother him anymore, it seems. He doesn't say much aside from a soft snort as he continues to look over the other troll. Thoughts swimming idly in his mind about how much time the Summoner has before he croaks, and it does something odd to his guts. Not quite anger or disgust, but a sort of in between feeling. In just appearances alone, the Summoner seems to look almost older than the highblood.]

And when did a brother even all up and motherfucking start asking for permission? Ten years fuck you up that bad?

Nah, just want to make sure your ready, talking doesn't suit you.

[A laugh, sitting with both his legs down now. He swirls the bottle again, pulling it back to finish it off.]

Well-

[It's fast, the entire action, Summoner on his feet, planting both, leaning forward. His hand flicking the bottle up fast, spinning it and catching the neck again only to whip his hand forward and smash the bottle against the side of the other troll's head. His hand whips away only to crank back and shove the broken bottle up against the underside of the indigoblood's jaw, pressing to get blood.]

[His body is arched, wings open to slide back straight from him. His eyes glare, head dipping forward as his upper lip curls in a snarl, emitting a deep primal growl from his throat before finally speaking.]

You ever fucking try that bullshit again I will ruin you.

[He pulls in a deep breath, the smell of liquor both their breaths and now the other's face from the small amount that was left in the bottle when Summoner hit him with it. He shoves the bottle up a but further, scraping slowly under the Highblood's chin. he can hear the glass rip and snap at flesh but it doesn't deter him, keeping his gaze.]

I know what was "going on" back then, I remember. I'm not naive enough to flutter away from the truth anymore. But killing me was a mistake and threatening to do the same to anyone else I care about will force my hand as well. You got that? [He pushes his face closer, tilting his head to the side, pressing the bottle up a bit more. Lysunder doesn't fucking know why the Highblood thought killing him was a good idea, or why he even planned on doing it in the first place. But if it was to piss him off- kudos.]

[Fast, indeed. The highblood had been wary, yes, knowing the Summoner couldn't simply have forgotten what had happened. But that's not enough to avoid the sudden blow to the side of his head, and he snarls loudly in pain, the fresh wounds on his newly healed skin burning (almost pleasantly, he'd later realize) and then the broken end digs into his neck. He clenches his jaw, swallowing hard, scelra turning a deep orange just barely at the point of rage.

The smell of liquor only ramps up the excitement, stronger on the Summoner's breath than his own, and he hisses again as the bottle cuts deeper into his skin, dark purple oozing from the cuts.

He starts to laugh, chuckling lowly to himself as he raises both his hands in an shrugging sort of gesture. He cranes his head slightly with the push of the bottle against his neck.]

Heh, you got it, motherfucker. Wasn't even all up and think about repeating that shit, so you just motherfucking wasted your breath.

[The laugh makes his stomach churn and quickly he snarls after the other troll speaks and pulls the bottle away, lifting it up to the side of one of the Highblood's horns.]

Yeah?

[A growl, his other hand grabbing onto the other horns hard and tugging back to lift the Highblood's face a little. The hand holding the bottle slowly start to grind the broken edges of the bottle against the other horn. Slowly he scratches hard, rubbing the glass all the way down to the base just above his scalp, a bone grinding sound omitted the entire time before he stops.]

Suppose a stupid carni can still be wide to some degree then. [His hand jerks, tugging his horn once more and stares at him, their noses almost touching. But with that he jerks away, putting what's left of the bottle back into his sylladex and putting his hands to his hips. His demeanor's changed, calm now, wings folding behind him.]

That's all, why don't you go pick the glass outta yer pretty face. [A light shrug, moving the hand that had been holding the bottle up to his mouth. He flicks out his tongue to clean off some indigo that had dripped there, eyeing the other troll intensely before turning to head away.]

[He exhales sharply when he's tugged back, just letting him now, and grinning up at him. The grinding of jagged glass against his horn makes him cringe, barely parting his lips to gasp at the strange sensation, fighting the urge to tug his head away once the glass scrapes at the more sensitive parts near the root but unable to suppress a tiny jerk of his head.

His eyes narrow when their faces draw close, licking his lips slightly, obviously finding it pretty damn arousing and really tempting to just bite into those lips and taste his blood (and not his own for once). But then they're suddenly apart again and he shakes his head like a ruffled lion, little pieces of glass from the initial blow still stuck to his hair.]

Tch, motherfucking tease. [He stands up slowly, eyes fixated on the tongue then up at the gaze, matching it in intensity.]

Yeah, tease. It'll be on purpose now, deal with that. [A flick of his hand before moving it around to pat his ass as he walks away. Summoner knows better than to think what memories he has of this as hole were platonic. He knew before- but- it wasn't something he liked to think about. Now he's accepted it, at least in that he's acknowledging what's there. Not that he'll give in- kinda makes it better. Whatever, as long as this ass hole doesn't try that shit again. Lysunder's not interested in and encore.]

Until next time, Giacomar.

[He swipes a hand across his neck, wiping away the blood a little and whatever little shards of glass stuck there. Whatever. No big deal. His gaze automatically flickers down to that fine ass then back up.]

Hah, and here a brother was all thinking you'd motherfucking forgotten that shit over the sweeps. How motherfucking flattering.

[A low chuckle as the orangeblood walks away. It's weird, hearing that name, especially from the Summoner, the one everyone calls Lysunder. But he never calls anyone by their names, at least, he hasn't done it in a very long time and he certainly isn't going to start again anytime soon.]

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[ ♑ ] and after death he said...

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