vatheon | [ ♑ ] it was inevitable

Entry tags:

[ ♑ ] it was inevitable

who: grand highblood + summoner
when: 9/26 evening
where: their usual forest playground
style: prose
status: closed

The first message had been a tease, and the Grand Highblood hates being teased. But as much as he hates being poked fun of, he's no fool to go off on a rampage trying to find the ones who dare poketh their stick into the lion's cage. That just comes off as way too desperate, especially if he did manage to find the Summoner who would've likely been in no mood to indulge his bloodlust. Though there's also a 50/50 chance that he would've indulged him, which only infuriates the highblood more, being way too used to being The Most Fickle One of them all.

The second one was the message he had been waiting for. Finally.

He takes all the shortcuts from the cave and into their usual forest area, finding no reason to prolong such an anticipated meeting (and of course having very little else to do), and finds himself standing in a large clearing. The trees, rocks, even the ground itself shows wear and tear from their previous clashes, and the forest itself along with its wildlife seems to sigh heavily at his presence.

Then he cranes his neck up, and a wide grin slowly stretches across his face. The winged troll is perched high up on a tree, staring down back at him.

"Still in the motherfucking mood?" He wanders close to the tree, stretching out an arm to brush his hand against the bark. His fingers wrap tightly around the trunk as much as his hands will allow and shakes the tree viciously.

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A scowl before he's dodging, but not high like usual, this time he crouches low, switching his lance for a large knife. As he dodges low, he grips the hilt of the knife tight in his hand, and aims to slam in deep into the Highblood's leg from the side.

The wide sweep of his arm doesn't allow for much, visually, so he misses the small detail where Summoner draws the large knife. He sees the smaller troll dart forward, but only when the knife plunges into his leg does he realize-- fuck.

He roars, the blade digging into his leg deep but he quickly raises his hand to backhand the troll (or at least drive him away so he could tend to the knife). It sends a hot bolt of pain up and down his leg, causing him to lurch in his step, nearly tripping. It's a pretty nasty wound, and dear god does it hurt. It hurts so fucking much, but he only finds himself stretching his mouth from ear to ear in an unsettling grin. A strange moaning sound bubbles up in his throat, and it's obvious he's trying to keep it down but he's pretty sure Summoner is close enough to hear it.

"Motherfuck..."

He gets a swift back hand but it more catches his horn than anything. Either way he's being slide to the side, quickly stumbling and soon balancing on his feet. He shudders, before he even looks, hearing that deep sound rumbling from the Highblood and slowly tilts his head to the side, glaring over his shoulder at him. He sees the grin, and paired with the sound previous, and that unsettling curse word, Summoner feels his stomach churn and he's not sure if it's purely from disgust.

"Wow, no-" he finds himself growling, taking out another knife and spinning on his heel before he leaps up and dart at him. Summoner stops infront of him fast, swinging his leg hard to swipe the Highblood's legs while one is would and he's preoccupied with.... whatever the heck his is doing. Summoner's trying to get him to fall on his ass.

The highblood might be preoccupied with the pain/pleasure(?), but his wits are still about him. His eyes widen, but with one leg sort of paralyzed, he can't avoid the legs knocking hard against his ankles. He goes down, but he catches himself with his hand and one knee on the ground. No way he's going to just fall over like that, especially from this light-boned freak of nature.

With him so close now, he screams at him, specks of spit flying everywhere as he angrily swipes at him.

"Get the motherfuck back here so I can all up and ERASE THAT MOTHERFUCKING NUB off your motherfucking shoulders!" He swings the club down where the Summoner stands while swinging his free arm out to claw at him if the club fails to stop him.

Pain/pleasure(?), we just don't know.

Again the club misses, but Summoner keeps allowing himself to get too close for too long and that swipe of a hand comes at him. It almost grabs him but he holds up the knife, blocking with the blade pointed out and sinking into the Highblood's palm. He can't hold the guard for long though, their strength just isn't. So he opens his wings and readies a quick leap back, leaving the knife where it is.

The knife draws thin rivulets of purple blood that flow down his palm. Most people would find this an unfortunate advantage, now adding a new weapon into his arsenal, but the highblood only sneers.

It only distracts him for a moment as he flicks his hand out to the side to fling the blade from his hand. There's a small thudding sound of metal embedding into tree bark. Unlike the blood from the Summoner, the highblood only stares at his palm with a growl in his throat, then charges forward with a tremendous leap. His legs are powerful enough to get him going, but then his huge forearms are stretched out to keep his upper body from crashing into the ground.

Head tilted down, horns out like gnarled lances, he runs at the Summoner like a wild bull. How ironic.

The speed at which the other troll comes at him is frightening and he finds himself stiffening a little before taking to the sky fast, but not before one of those horns sticks into his side.

He raises up, gasping and pressing a hand to his side, swooping over him and landing on the ground in the spot where the Highblood once was. Quickly, Lysunder pulls out a thin throwing spear and throws it fast at the Highblood's back, still clenching his side with his other hand.

The pressure against his horns feel...well, amazing. It's so satisfying to just stick a motherfucking fleshy thing with the tips of his horns, knowing it just broke skin and all that blood was flowing.

His body reflexively twists to turn and face the Summoner, even without realizing that a spear is being launched at his back. It scrapes across his side, almost identical in placement to the Summoner where his horns had slashed through. A hiss, loud and serpentine, as his hand also goes up but without touching it.

He's tempted to run at him again, but he's still, breathing heavily in silence, and just watching.

"Heh," a smirk slides up on his mouth, glancing at the wound now on the Highblood's side. Summoner breathes deep, smelling blood, a general scent of it, from the both of them. His wings shake a little before remain open, and slowly his lowered head raises up, tilting back a little to stare down his nose with a grin, lids low.

"Doesn't appeal aesthetically to you, I know," a deep tone, pulling his hand away from his side a little, blood dripping down his leg and dripping from his hand.

"But you still want it, don't you?"

And suddenly his attention is now drawn the wings, the way the Summoner holds his head high and grins at him. That expression is more than captivating enough, but he makes the good choice of not focusing too much on that. Yeah, because like focusing on the wings and the blood dripping down his leg isn't bad enough.

"I think you're motherfucking going somewhere with that, yeah." He says with a slow nod, sucking in a sharp breath. The tip of his tongue slides out again, rubbing along his teeth and lips. He can feel himself salivating at the sight, the way it drips quickly from those slim fingertips.

Edited 2012-10-06 02:12 (UTC)

"Come on then," chuckles, catching some more of the blood and whipping to the grass.

"Lick it off the ground."

He narrows his eyes at the splatter of blood, making an ugly sneer, then raises his gaze back at the Summoner. It does get a bit of a rise out of him much to his annoyance, but he only glares for now.

"And why don't you just all up and suck my motherfucking bulge!" He snarls, slowly walking off the side, still keeping an eye on him. That can be taken both figuratively or literally, he sure doesn't mind.

"Yeah? So where you going then?" Wipes his hand off on his pant leg.

"This brother ain't going no motherfucking where," he replies tersely, snorting. His body shifts slightly in the other direction and paces back, just watching the Summoner. It's subtle, but he's circling him again to try and crowd him and draw himself closer.

Watching him just circle him like this is unnerving, but he stays still, tilting his head a little here and there to continue watching. Eventually though, he pulls out another throwing spear and twists, throwing it hard in the Grand Highblood's direction. Hey, he needs to keep his blood boiling and he's fucking tired of you walking around him like a wolf getting ready to eat.

The highblood's feet scrape the ground as he suddenly braces himself to dart to one side, the spear cutting through his hair. His eyes narrow almost accusingly at him as if thinking 'What the motherfuck was that for?'

"THAT was all kinds of motherfucking rude-"

Having less distance between them makes him bold, so he lunges forward with a snarl and grabs for the closest thing within grabbing distance, which happen to be Summoner's horns.

Oh.

Well he expected the Highblood to say more than just that so that lunge in his direction catches him off guard. Sigh, and normally he's so good at not getting his horns grabbed, even with how big they are.

His neck strains, head jerking and he tugs, trying to get loose but he can feel the pressure on his horn. It's game over unless he can trick his way out, which won't entirely be a problem but he has to wait for an opportune time.

"Ah damnit-"

Well, it's satisfying to finally have the slippery motherfucker in his grasps. With a 'hup', the highblood yanks the horn up a bit before slamming it to the ground, pinning the horn flat to it.

"And what the motherfuck was that again? Said you all wanted a brother to lick your disgusting filth off the dirt?"

As he thinks back one those words, a twist in his gut. Hah hah, what a motherfucking joke he can be sometimes, but it's important to poke fun at yourself once in a while, right?

There's a hiss and growl, back hitting ground and he quickly tries to fold his wings before they crush under his weight. They don't fold completely right though and he winces, feeling the skin on his back heat up a little.

Summoner glares up, already with a foot up, trying to shove at the Highblood's stomach.

"Sorry, need me to say it again? I know speech comprehension doesn't come easily to you."

His free hand wrestles with the Summoner's leg while the other hand keeps its grip on his horn. The fingers will do all the work, so he allows his thumb to stick out as he slides the hand towards the base, and quickly scrapes against the side of Summoner's face with a single claw.

"That's REAL motherfucking fresh, comin' from a motherfucker makin' like a beetle all rolled onto its motherfucking back." He snickers, then curls over the small body, hair draping around them like a huge suffocating curtain. He's pretty sure he knows what his face looks like right now to the Summoner: eyes wide and bloodshot, red almost, tongue poking out between rows of razor sharp teeth as he suddenly lunges forward as if about to rip into his face.

It's tempting, to dig his teeth into flesh. Rip off an ear, maybe. Leave a nice gash in his neck then take a claw to stretch it out all the way down his chest. But instead he brushes his tongue against the small scrape on his face. The nice little wounds in his mind can wait AFTER he deals with the legs kicking at his stomach. Maybe he should break one....

Summoner's eyelids flutter as the Highblood's hand slides down his horn and soon he can actually feel it near his scalp. The sensation makes him shudder and he growls deep when he feels a claw sink into his face. He's getting mixed feelings from it all. On one side he wants to keep fighting, and, kicking and snarling and scratching, but on the other side he can't help but like the tension, like the feeling moving through him from that grip.

The Summoner's eyes dart around a little, darkness starting to move in over him as the Highblood gets closer, he can see the water fall of hair surround him and again he's conflicted.

"A real troll knows how to deal with any situation, chucklefuck-" And then he shivers, feeling the roll of slimy tongue lap over his cheek. Again he shudders, his nose scrunching and lips curled in a sneer at the disgusting sensation. But the feeling of his tongue seems to make his stomach churn as well, hands moving up to grip into that hair and tug it hard, aiming to pull some out.

Summoner kicks again, soon feeling something wet and he glances down, the eye on the wet side of his face closed. His foot is sinking into that wound made by his lance and he's quick to shove his foot in harder, opening the wound further and twisting his leg a little.

The shudders vibrate up his arms and he can't help but try and suppress one himself. The sharp taste again on his tongue only worsens the effect, eyes rolling back slightly. He can practically smell the conflicting emotions just wafting off his person like some disgusting lowblood pheromone.

He makes a loud hissing sound as the Summoner yanks on his hair, feeling the messy strands snap in some places, tiny bursts of pain spreading across his scalp. It feels good, and he resists, strengthening the intensity of the pull.

Then suddenly there's a burst of pain in his side, and notices right away that the motherfucker's foot is just twisting and churning away into that dark gaping wound. A shuddering growl escapes his lips and he arches his back to try and alleviate it purely out of instinct.

"Looks like you're motherfucking dealing with it JUST MOTHERFUCKING FINE!" And his grin looks a mixture of angry and gleeful, pushing his body forward into the foot, the pain threatening to overwhelm his body. Those little acts of violence he's been entertaining in his pan resurface again, and his head lunges forward to snap at Summoner's ear.

"Told you, I tend to grab this shit by the horns, ya know?" A chuckle, swallowing his anxiety. He gives a smut grin, rolling his eyes a little.

"But uh, I guess you're more doin' that right now, hey? With your hand like, on my horn and all, ah hah-" Wow that was awkward as fuck. Let him just fix that with shoving his foot in further, not that it's not already with how the Highblood just kind if... pushes closer. The sensation is making him a little nauseous, feeling his foot dig into bleeding skin and muscle, feeling it contract and ooze into his pants and battered torn shoes.

"Ugh-" He gasps, snarling in disgust from the feel before the sudden movement causes him to flinch.

As soon as the Highblood darts forward, he's got another knife, this one smaller, but it does what he wants, blade pushed to the corner of the Highblood's mouth, sinking into the flesh a little. He doesn't actively cut his cheek though, just holds it there to intimidate as he stares up with a glare.

"Come on now, where's the romancing?"

He would laugh at the awkward bits if he had the mind to right now, but he doesn't, and merely rolls his eyes. A long deep breath is taken in as the foot digs deep and his lips twitch, curling back in pain, eyes threatening to screw themselves shut.

Damn, and he really was looking forward to snapping that pointy ear off. Instead, he's met with a blade tugging at the corner of his mouth and he immediately stops. His tongue runs gently along the edge that's actually inside his mouth, and he sucks in a breath mostly because he's starting to drool. Well, not that it really matters... in fact, he decides to just let it trail down his chin just to annoy the Summoner some more.

"Not the motherfuckin' romancing type," he replies around the blade, still rubbing his tongue against it. "Thought you motherfucking all up and KNEW a brother a little by now, heh. Hit it and motherfucking quit it, as the saying all goes."

"Yeauch-" Snarls, feeling saliva drip down the knife and onto his fingers. He shivers slightly, but keeps his hand there, pushing a little harder. His gaze soon returns to the other's eyes and he pulls on a smirk, raising a brow.

"Hit it and quit it huh? Y-yeah, I see it all now." A snort, pushing the blade a little further, feeling skin snap under it, slicing his mouth a little wider.

"Doubt you can get enough of me though, once I give it to ya." Pushes the blade harder, slicing a bit further, ingido blood accompanying that saliva now.

"If I give it to ya."

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