vatheon | [ ♑ ] This is not a bath house

Entry tags:

[ ♑ ] This is not a bath house

who: grand highblood + you

when: afternoon almost evening

where: the lake inside the forest [south-east quadrant]

style: any is fine

status: open

The highblood had spent a good chunk of his time after various events such as Summoner's death, Summoner's return, that scuffle with Darkleer, his own death by Darkleer's hands, just wandering off on his own. He didn't let anyone see him come or leave, and if they did, they obviously didn't bother him enough for him to care. As neglectful as he is of himself on a regular basis, he became even more so during this time and it led up to a point that even the highblood himself couldn't keep letting it go on as such.

It's one thing to look intimidatingly furious and unkept, but it's a whole 'nother thing looking like some kind of homeless feral creature. So to remedy this problem, he saunters on over to the nearest body of water and just slowly submerges himself underwater wearing only the minimal amount of clothing (meaning just his underwear -- yes, the one with his symbol on it). Not that he ever really wore that much to begin with these days, usually forgoing shirts regardless of the time and place. He remains under for a couple of minutes before the large spiraling dark red-to-orange-and-yellow horns slowly rise up through the clear surface, his massive amount of hair floating around him like kelp as it stuck to his hulking body while more of it emerges. It's quite a sight, really.

Talk to him? Try and wash his hair properly instead of how he's just making it worse by not properly shampooing and conditioning? Join him? >;o)

> What will you do?

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Summoner's presence is of no surprise to the highblood. He knows the winged troll hangs out in the forest all the time, so to hear him approaching didn't alarm him in any way. Instead, he finds himself just grinning from ear to ear, a visitor that he both minded and did not mind having around. For one, being in the water made him feel oddly vulnerable, and that is one side of him that he did not wish to show someone like the Summoner. He wasn't embarrassed, but if the subject ever came up, it would just be kind of awkward.

He just wades through the water to find a place to sit while still submerging the majority of his body and laughs, tossing his head back a little with the effort.

"Soap ain't all no motherfucking thing a brother needs," he snaps, glaring at him. "And if I all up and needed that shit, then it would make itself motherfucking present right the fuck now. But this ain't no formal bath, so I all up and motherfucking KINDLY REQUEST you keep your smart-ass shit to your motherfucking self."

Edited 2012-08-23 07:45 (UTC)

"Uh, actually it is, everyone needs it, even you, fancy pants. Unless indigo have another ability that I didn't know about and can get to secreting it out their pores." An eyebrow raise, scoffing a little as he approaches.

Makes itself present right the fuck now? Well then, that he can do because he does need it. Summoner can easily smell him from here and that's pretty damn unpleasant. So he soon is opening his sylladex and removes some soap, it's a simple bar, but it'll work. He chucks it the other troll's way before tugging off his shirt and putting it in his sylladex, hand moving to start at his pants.

"Theeeere ya go champ. Because Mother grub be damned, do you need it, damn."

The highblood merely sneers at that response, leaning back comfortably against the bank, not minding any of the mud or dirt that clings to his skin.

He watches unabashedly and with great interest as Summoner strips, but is slightly distracted by the block of soap being chucked at his face and fumbles with it briefly. It's a little too small in his oversized paws, but it might just last long enough. His lips curl downward into a small frown as he passes the slippery bar from hand to hand, the lather already starting to slick his palms.

"This amount is a motherfucking insult," he growls, rolling it around in his hand now. "Do I all up and look your puny motherfucking size to be all getting cleaned up and shit with something the side of my motherfucking thumbail?"

Edited 2012-08-23 08:31 (UTC)

"It is an insult, dumbass. I'm saying to stink, so washup or else this little visit's gonna be short." Rolls his eyes.

"And uh-" unsnaps his pants before letting them drop and shaking them off. He's got some heavy cloth wrapping down there to match his arms and chest.

"As for the soap size? I keep tellin' ya-" Already chuckling a little, stepping into the water slightly. "You gotta strip some of that weight down, ya know?"

The small snap of the button brings the highblood's gaze to attention once more, just cradling the soap so that it won't just fly out of his hands. Yeah, the lowblood's got himself covered, but it definitely leaves very little to the imagination and finds himself grinning widely again.

"Sure ain't all a motherfucking thing that's happening," he retorts in a sort of half snarl and half laughing tone. "The better to motherfucking crush some motherfuckers with smart-ass tongues, you know?"

He slowly works up a soapy lather in his hands, still a little unsure about where to even start this shit and just works the rapidly disappearing bar up his arms, a small layer of soap glistening over his skin.

Summoner just gives a thoughtful hum, glancing the other troll's way. His eyes fog over before to looks back to the water and moves into it, moving far enough in that he can be completely submerged if he curls up into a fetal position while on his feet. He does so, though keeps his head up, eyes above the surface. The water is cold and how it envelopes his wings like that is strange and refreshing. He can't keep them still for long though, and soon opens them up, water beading and rolling off of them. Again his eyes drift to the Highblood and stares at him before his wings open up all the way from the surface of the water and begin to flap a bit, as it trying to get the water off before he just folds them back up under the water and rises up a little more.

"To be fair I uh, think you already crush me enough as is, don't you think?" A small laugh, raising a brow. Some dark humor, he thinks the Highblood will appreciate it and to be honest- he's alive still. It's better to not dwell on what happened, just learn from it, that and he's just... happy those scars on his back don't hurt anymore.

The cleaning troll barely glances up from his work, slowly working up his arms to his shoulders and chest. His eyes glance up quite often, lingering on those radiant wings that seem to shimmer with the droplets of water. Then the memory of how they felt in his hands, how they crinkled and-- OK, well, let's not get too carried away.

He doesn't pause in his movements, but just chuckles along with him as he lathers up his neck then back down his broad chest. This cleaning thing isn't so bad once he gets started, though he's pretty sure this level of cleaning isn't at all close to what he needs to truly become clean. Not that he cares, of course. "You're right, motherfucker. Just too motherfucking easy to all up and crush your fragile cluckbeast bones all up in that motherfucking structure. Too bad all up and losing a few motherfucking pounds won't save you none."

He then uses up all of the soap, leaving him with just half of a soaped up body, but at least it's a start, right? Then slowly, he makes his way towards the middle of the lake, somewhat closer to where Summoner is sitting. He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes as he pauses in his step, then walks on forward to submerge himself underwater (horns and all) leaving a soapy trail behind him. Then as quickly as he had went under, he emerges again, teeth bared and expression manic for a brief moment before quickly returning to its usual.

Aww, he's actually doing what Summoner suggested, that's- kinda weird. But thanks, the smell is actually noticeable on him, hopefully this will help. Ope, getting little distracted there though, aren't you? Granted, Lysunder doesn't notice, what he does with his wings isn't really on purpose. They're moving to get as much water washed over them as possible. When you grow wings you just kinda subconsciously do things like that.

"Hey man, don't make fun of a troll's bones-" Snorts, laughing a little as he glances over which was probably a bad idea because now he's staring again. His eyelids grow a little heavy as he watches, ducking down into the water a bit more, wings flickering and sliding against eachother.

"You feel beeetteeer, babe?" An eyebrow raise, Summoner seems to not have moved at all when the Highblood comes to the surface again. Just sitting there, watching him, much more casual now though. He knows he should feel some fear, he does, it's just enough to still be on his toes, ready if anything happens, but for the most part he's pretty calm. He's gotta be, he's fucking stuck in this bubble with this ass hole anyway.

He shakes some of the water off like an irritated mutt, hair flying everywhere for a brief moment before he turns his head to give the Summoner a pointed glare. While Summoner's presence doesn't exactly bother him in that sort of annoying way that Darkleer's does, he can feel a stirring emotion akin to jealousy and fascination mixed in with his hate for lowbloods in general. They just kind of stare at each other for a moment, and then the highblood soon heads in the Summoner's direction towards the shore to get himself onto dry land.

Water rolls off of him like mini waterfalls, mostly from being soaked up by his hair, and he finds himself just sort of standing there breathing deeply.

"Yeah, all up and feel all kinds of motherfucking better." The tone is sarcastic, obviously still a little disgruntled by the fact that he's been submerging himself in water. "Just give a brother something to grind the fuck up in his motherfucking hands and we can call it a motherfucking day."

Or a fight. Fights are always good for making him feel better. Even if it would be rather counterproductive with the cleaning...

"Could be arranged, uh, if you promise to wash up afterwards," a sing song tone as he stands up and walks a little further into the water, away from the shore the Highblood is now standing at. He's implying something... sure, maybe. To be honest he doesn't really know what he's implying. His head's still a bit messed up after about two days ago when he and Dualscar shared some time together on the island. He was drunk, tipsy, well, a little worse than that, he downed a half a bottle of scotch and Summoner can be a lightweight depending on the poison. Whatever happened with Dualscar was confusing, but... he wants to just blame it on the liquor for the time being.

It wasn't anything, red, black, nothing. Not like this, his hinting to the indigo blood is meant to come off as something dark, implying something. Yet, he's still not sure what yet. Maybe a fight? Maybe, but, it's hard to say. If it is a fight, or will be, he needs to send Darkleer a text quick, just letting him know what's going to go down, as he promised.

So maybe he's a little strung up about some things lately, emotionally... He's getting relief with Darkleer in a lot of ways, but it's not as aggressive as it can be else where, and he got a little taste of it with Dualscar when he forced the kiss to be a bit more aggressive.

Hell, who else to shove at now then this carni fuck? Summoner knows the Highblood already expects it to some degree, at least the teasing and strife.

"Maybe this shit could be all motherfucking arranged without a brother all getting his promise on for this washing up bullshit that every single motherfucker seems to be all intent on shoving onto a brother!" He growls, turning his head as Summoner moves away, narrowing his eyes at him and glaring intently. Ugh, why should he even bother? It's not like washing would change anyone's opinion about him, for better or for worse.

Unfortunately for the highblood, he has no idea what's even going on with Dualscar in this picture and if he did...well, things would probably not go over very well with the fish-faced motherfucker if he somehow managed to fuck things up between the Summoner and him.

There is no 'unfortunately' for the Highblood really, at least not one that relates to Dualscar. That a whole other barrel of fish. But there certainly is one thing that is unfortunate to GHB that's more blue blood related, and Summoner smirks a little to himself. He's a little.. dismayed by the thought, but it was hard to miss earlier.

"Yeah, maybe," smiles, turning a little and glancing over his shoulder. He lowers his eyelids, managing a laugh to himself before he turns, opening his wings slightly. Summoner keeps his smirk, fangs glinting a little as he crouches down to splash water up on his face and into his hair. Red and black strands fall in his face a bit, sticking to his forehead and cheeks before he stands up and slowly runs a hand through his hair, water splashing back in drops here and there behind him, and dripping down his face and neck. Soon after he sighs, wings opening a bit more, splashing the water and getting a little more wet as he slides a hand down his chest-

stomach-

lower stomach-

Slowly...

And then moves his hand to flick the water off, glancing up at the Highblood with a raised brow and an one sided smirk. He knows very well what he's playing at, but, it's really just a joke, aiming for a reaction because it's fun to rile this ass hole up. It definitely feels good after the emotional turmoil he's been going through.

He didn't mean to linger, honest. But he finds himself suddenly staring dumbly, slack-jawed, as the Summoner crouches down to splash water on himself. His wings capture the highblood's gaze first, but then finds his eyes wandering from them to those bright patches of wet red hair to his neck where he can see the faint trace of the bite mark which glisten in the light. He clenches his teeth from the memory alone.

Then those hands go down and his eyes follow, his mouth salivating without him even realizing, then licks his lips when the hands cease their descent. He doesn't even bother masking the obvious look in his eyes when Summoner smirks at him, just letting his gaze flicker up and down the troll's body, enjoying the attractive angle he's got him in at the moment. He doesn't appreciate being riled up for a laugh, but it's not like he knows that just yet.

"What's so motherfucking funny?" His voice feels thick, and growls a little in irritation as he slowly makes his way over in a strange semi-circle around him.

"How much of a black whore you are, uh, just as an observation." Smirks, putting his hands on his hips. Summoner just keeps eye contact, wings staying half open.

Edited 2012-08-28 08:16 (UTC)

"What?"

He's not sure why that catches him off-guard, but well, he shouldn't have been surprised by it. The highblood is well-aware of how much more inclined he is towards caliginous relationships if any sort of relationship at all.

He continues circling him, lifting his leg to kick at the water time to time. "Heh, got something you wanna motherfucking get the fuck off your chest, motherfucker?"

His wings open a little more, lifting his head with a cocky expression.

"Just saying, you uh, already seemed to get some action earlier today," chuckles, crouching a little and cocking his head back to get a glance at the Highblood before he suddenly opens his wings and leaps up out of the water. They flap hair, splashing the indigo blood with water and propelling him up high and fast. Lysunder doesn't go too high though, perhaps stopping just a little above the canopy before turning and hovering to stare down at him.

"So I really don't have to make any kind of arrangements with ya, you know? You're all set, shows already on the road or whatever the heck you indigo bloods talk about that may or may not be circus and carnival related."

A sort of confused look passes over the highblood's face briefly as the Summoner suddenly takes flight, flinching slightly from all the water splashing in his face. He glares up at him, teeth bared.

Well, he does recall a bit of a tussle with a certain blueblood in a very hateful fashion. How Summoner knew, well, he only had a few guesses how. Not that he's really worried about anything. So he had a bit of a run in with the motherfucker... so what?

"Heh, heh, reading a little too motherfucking much into a situation is what this all looks like, shit-for-brains! Spying on a me, motherfucker?"

There's no need to worry about anything at all, he's not really angry or opinionated on the matter, well, as long as his matesprit doesn't get killed. Which is kind of the main issue he does have with this.

"Uh, nah, actually, I think I'm reading into it just enough to know some strife when I see it. And no, don't fucking flatter yourself, I was actually trying to get an idea of where Tink was, not your bloated behind."

He'll try not to, but no promises! The fucker already killed him once, and the highblood is a huge supporter of the idea of Revenge. Especially when such a serious offense was committed against him!

At the nickname the highblood scoffs, laughing a bit at the end. "And you got yourself a good motherfucking look at him trying to all up and punish a brother with a hard motherfucking scrub. You sure all up and know how to motherfucking PICK 'EM, motherfucker, bunch of shitty sponge-cases they all fucking are." He's still a little bitter from the run-in, almost wishing the strife hadn't happened. If it meant Darkleer trying to clean him in the end, then he'd pass.

"Yeah, I certainly have a pretty interesting set of tastes, hey Giacomar?" A slow smile, staying high up.

"That all up and motherfucking depends, now don't it?" He raises an eyebrow at him, a slow grin stretching across his face.

"Sure as fuck can't all say shit about your disgusting flushed quadrants other than you should up and get your motherfucking sponge-container examined, but this brother all up and thinks your motherfucking black fancies are JUST FINE."

"This brother don't know shit about my fancies, period. You sure as fuck think you know something though, or maybe I'm too coy." Raises a brow.

"Either way, you've certainly exerted yourself enough today, eh? Don't think you deserve anymore playtime, clowntown. Don't want to over do it, ya know what I mean?"

"And here you all are, motherfucker, acting all like it's YOUR MOTHERFUCKING DECISION whether I deserve something." He growls, his grin turning abruptly into a deep frown, teeth slightly bared.

"Nothing to motherfucking overdo when it's hardly any shit to motherfucking begin with, if you all ask me!"

"Well when it's my ass, yeah. You sure as heck deserve my lance though." A huff, raising a brow and putting his hands on his hips.

"I don't know what it was, indick, just saying we can't over excite you. Get that blood rushing too much and who knows what'll happen, ya fickle son of a bitch."

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[ ♑ ] This is not a bath house

>;oD

Tch.

honk honk <3<

}:|

>:o9

No.

Yes

Nope.

Yurp.

Nop.

Yap

Naw.

Yop

Nah.

I'm running out of weird ways to say yes

Lame.

u3u

'-'

'~'

o-o

eue

-n-

-A-

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