☠ 001 ♑ text

[jugglates]

time to listen up motherfuckers

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did someone say aradia

[stopflow]

[She had figured that Summoner was following her, up until she realized that she heard the ground crack behind her. A wave of fear shot down her system, oh fuck he wasn't following her when she turned around. A beat, and she spun back around on the instant, returning to the nearby rooftop. No, this time, she didn't stand on it, thankfully. And, thankfully she wasn't going to get much closer.

HI DID YOU ORDER A FUCKING TIME TROLL?!]

Hey! Hey!! [She may be losing blood, but damn it, she's going to try to help where she can. So, what does she do you ask? She flails her arms around and whips up a bunch of dust.] Leave him ALONE!!

no

[jugglates]

[ NO FUCK OFF ARADIA.

Okay no. The sounds of bones snapping and cracking; how the joints and fragments of bone would come undone and air popping from between appendages sounded like a motherfucking symphony to his ears.

He laughed, obviously, at this, and soon enough he releases the summoner's appendage. He wants to corner him and ruin him, but instead of delving a hand inside of his gut and play with innards, his claws clasp underneath his jaw line. it's close enough for the bloodied saliva to hit him point blank at the side of his cheek, and that's just enough proximity where his tongue can emerge from his mouth and slide along the thick fluid.

then, the other lowblood returns, and the highblood only grins to himself. ] YOU SHOULD HAVE MOTHERFUCKING LEFT, sister. You, you have no clue in your motherfucking think pan, MOTHERFUCKING DO YOU?

[ Juggling both lowbloods, the highblood slides his tongue along the summoner's neck before shoving him back, and once he turns his direction to aradia, his grin is wide with all lips and

[redbullrenegade]

[His jaw tightens when he feels the hand on his face, because as said? Christ this stupid fuck's hands, and soon an audible shudder and disgusted raise of his lip when he sees the Highblood lick the saliva and brown blood from his cheek, squinting his eyes in dismay. But this dismay is nothing compared to how he feels when he hears that flap of wing and the familiar voice of Aradia as she yells down to them. Lysunder's disgusted sneer turns into an expression of heated anger, eyes darting up to her.]

GET OUT OF HERE! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH CHILD!? I'LL BE FI-eeeeeehhhww...

[The tongue slides over his neck and he shakes, shoulders hunching forward and eyelids fluttering. Summoner catches himself as he slides back, having been shoved, and immediately takes a deep breath, recovering from the feeling of being lic- no okay, not... Not even going to think about it. Instead he jerks his attention to Aradia again, scowling as he starts commune

[stopflow]

Y-y-wh-- [WHAT. N-Nightmares what? That's not going to set well with her at all, but the only reason that she was even looking as concerned as she is was because of the situation she had put her friend in. Also like hell if she's sleeping tonight.]

[She wanted to help. She really wanted to help.

But before she could actually do anything, wings obscured her vision. So many fucking wings. She hissed silently to herself, and lifted back a bit as she floated backwards. She needed to help, she could help, but she wasn't given the chance to help like she wanted to.

This wasn't going to happen this time. She didn't even get to try to freeze him, she was going to let down her friends. Seriously, this is complete bull to her.

Hissing a soft curse to herself, she flew away from the birds, and away from the two trolls. This is completely stupid and she didn't appreciate this at all. She really hoped Lysunder was going to get his ass out of here... ]

[jugglates]

[ She had no motherfucking clue that was going to infect her think pan and break it motherfucking wide. Did she? That sure as hell brought a smile to the clown's face upon realization that these child-trolls were -- clearly -- motherfucking weak. The most they could do was serve entertainment, just as the cocktail of blood and saliva that seeped in the hotness of his mouth served to cease the craving of his own depravity. The damp flesh of the Summoner's neck and shoulder soon enough glossed over with a hot breath.

And then, there was a harsh, barking laughter when the birds delved forth to surround the low-blood grub to serve as saviors to lead her from where she was misguided.

To motherfucking bad that the Highblood would be seeing her in her dreams. What a motherfucking shame that he will chucklevoodoo her. ] TRYING TO MOTHERFUCKING PROTECT HER, SUMMONER? [ Lips were spread ear-to-ear when large fingers coiled around his shirt-front; his breath a heavy metallic scent of blood as he hissed between gritted teeth. ]Too motherfucking

Look... we're...doing that thing again, bro...

[redbullrenegade]

[Thank god Aradia was out of here... He'd speak to her later about this little... whatever this was. Aradia being just, not very intelligent at all? She seemed like such a smart kid, hopefully... this wouldn't happen again. Unfortunately it probably wasn't because of this indigo's powers. Fuck, having Aradia hit with that is not a good thing, hopefully... it won't be too bad. By this time he was unfortunately aware of what indigos could do, hey, everyone at his age was probably hit by those crazy powers, he knew he even was as well. Thankfully Lysunder managed to cope with them some how, but a thirteen year old kid getting hit by the chucklevoodoos of a full grown indigo troll? ...He really was worried about Aradia. But as long as she was safe, right?]

[Summoner's mind went blank when he felt the lance sink into Highblood's gut and he couldn't--

--believe how good that made him feel

not my fault

[jugglates]

[ Yeah. Thank fuck that Aradia was outta here, because the moment that the Highblood widened the gaping wound that was enlarged through out his innards and ripping through his ribcage was the moment the heavy-scented blood and the loud ear-ripping squelch emerged. The gore was cascading from the enlarged wound. That poor little fucker that flew off, the last fucking thing she had to worry about was the Summoner turning submissive underneath his own claws, not when her own think pan was getting torn open by heebie-jeebies and flooded with things that went motherfucking bump in the night. That little bitch all soaked in red cloth and red blood, she'd fucking die - it just wasn't fucking today, and when she was infected with enough fear that could curl in on itself

Whoops.

[redbullrenegade]

[Fuck you; his heart beat like that because this was a fight and nothing more, his hands could feel the pressure on the lance, the scent of blood was familiar, the adrenaline rush familiar, the sounds of pain-- even if they were laced with pleasure-- were familiar. It was like he was home again, like he wasn't in the dream land that would make him forget about everything. The feeling of digging his lance into another person made his heart ache for home, Summoner feared that this place would... be too good to him, that it would make him never want to leave. And then this sick fuck shows up and Lysunder feels the war again, feels it dripping over him like that wound dripped indigo to the ground. So fuck you, this isn't like that, he doesn't... feel anything like that. It's the situation, not the person

WHOOPS INDEEDY

[jugglates]

[ Fuck...him? Brother, what the Highblood is feeling right now -- with the motherfucking lance lodge deeply in his motherfucking gut and how he felt his nerves run on acid for this deep raw motherfucking hate that circulated through him -- that could motherfucking be done. Each small inch that closed the proximity between them; torso or appendages, hahaha. The Summoner? He had no motherfucking clue what he was up against. The lowblood imagined the battleground where numbers feel from a far distance, and the Highblood, he got what he wanted in his motherfucking hands. The leader of some little rebellion that prided themselves in a invisible object of hope. What were they motherfucking called, 'miracles'? What a motherfucking intangible goal that couldn't be taken into hands, the only motherfucking miracle the Highblood saw in the war was the numerous corpses of trolls with their innards splayed over moist earth enriched in colors

[redbullrenegade]

[You stupid bitch, that is not what I or Summoner meant. Anything sexual is the furthest from his mind right now, which is saying something for him. Right now his mind is focused on his lance, that's it. And don't you dare make that into a penis joke because that's Lysunder's job. For now it's just blood, guts, anger, and ha- No. Just anger. Lots of anger. Because this stupid fuck just won't stop getting closer. The proximity made sense though, all of these indigo fucks seemed to like close contact-- most of them enjoyed getting their hands dirty. Most of his fights with this caste ended up close at some point, despite Summoner's effort to keep to the skies. And here we had it again...]

[Let's not repeat this, okay? It couldn't get any worse than this.]

[Then...]

MY STUTTERING?! REALLY!? Is that even necessary!? Try to keep this prof- Black. Black?

[Uh.]

N-

[Being taken aback took a little too much time, and suddenly there were hands on his face, again-- see what I mean by close? Like, every single indigo was

[jugglates]

[ Unfortunately the implication if the Summoner's think pan only focused on the instrument that is buried deeply within the Highblood, there is only one joke that can be made, and unfortunately, that joke is circulated with the fact of phallic objects. So, it's only unfortunate, that it has come to that

[redbullrenegade]

[Efforts to keep his mouth shut weakened, feeling hands slide down his sides. Summoner's shoulders shrugged forward, jaw tense as he started to open his mouth, mentally screaming at himself when he heard the shuddered gasp leak from between his lips. The pain so close to his head, pulsing in his neck was overbearing-- ontop of how much of a high we was getting from the blood smell still dense around them. Yeah, he wasn't an idiot. He couldn't deny the fact that this sick bastard was feeling something here. What he could deny-- and avidly was and will continue to-- was how he felt about this. This bastard was just choking a child. He was scum, completely terrible scum. And Summoner hated how the first word to come to mind was 'hate

[jugglates]

[ Summoner was going to be in for a motherfucking surprise; see those motherfucking bite marks that were going to be laced over your neck, Summoner? That shit has got to sting, and the more it motherfucking stings, the more likely it will scar. Now, the Highblood had stuck his jaws perfectly inside of that tender flesh, if he had not willingly released his mouth and let himself reel back, there would have not been anything left there apart from mangled flesh and a thing veneer of muscle that barely coated exposed collar bones. This little brown-blooded motherfucker