[ there's a stilted, off-swagger kind of dragging in his walk as the door rattles with his entry ]
[ he's all shambling and ragged, dragging a knife with that nails-on-chalkboard scratch along counter tops and refrigerator doors, his voice just below sing-song; ]
Ohhh, Fooooooox...
[ the scratching comes on the wooden face of the bathroom door, like a bird clawingpecking for entry at a windowsill ]
[the other man casts a groggy, insomnia-sloe eye to the side when he hears the rattle, standing before the crooked mirror above the sink]
[he dribbles toothpaste on his t-shirt collar as he gurglegrumbles an affirmative - before his hindbrain has time to replay those tickytacky nerve pricking noises]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 2 2011, 22:08:13 UTC
[ lashing out comes as soon as the guttural rumble is out, door practically knocked off its hinges with a blow, all that excitementmania stored up in tissues breaking free (every killer loves to snap: in self and others) ]
[ the knife isn't shown like a threat, isn't waved like a it's a real stick-up -- Badou's too good for that kind of showmanship -- but held at bay as a big paw seizes up an ankle to drop him on the floor and drag him out like a corpse into a rainy grave ]
You promised. You remember? You can't lie right now, either. It'll hurt you. I don't want it to hurt you.
[ he rattles, biting at his lip to keep the chatter from spilling over, but teeth have never stopped him before; ]
[there's no time to react, no chance of reasoning out, and his only weapon has double-rowed bristle-cleaning action]
[as the hard angles of his body hit the regrettably much harder tiles of the floor, he rams his only, foamy weapon towards the other's eyes, legs (cold and bare) striking out at the other man's torso powerfully]
Get the hell o'ffa me, you fuckin' psychotwat, the hell're you babblin' about? Shitshit ow -- you're gonna put out somebody's eye with that fuckin' thing!
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 2 2011, 22:41:45 UTC
[ donkey braying kicks knock him to the floor, the knife clattering and ignored in favor of his captured prey ]
[ dragged through the entrance and to him, under him, peeling fingers off of the door frame like a clung cat afraid of the tub, he doesn't even bother with protecting himself as fingers demand and rake at the other's body ]
[ wide-eyed and air-mouthed, the tearing of fabric prompts more shakes; ]
Aah, yeah, I'll take that next... Kakakakah, one scar at a time, 'til it's all mine. You're all mine. You like it?
[Badou is used to crazy people with knives tackling him. he is also used to crazy people with knives tackling him who are - loosely termed - his friends. but there is a difference between this, and Genkaku trying to force his hand into the switched-on blender for breakfast smoothies. there is a difference between this, and his own attempts to commit as much head trauma to the other man possible, because of some off-base comments about Jet Li]
[there is even a difference between this and the drink-and-drugs fueled pissfights that end with bruises on the face, blood under nails, and hair ripped out and knotted around fingers. that kinda thing is just - loosely termed - fun]
[but that laugh, those preoccupied hands ripping up the seam of his t-shirt (fuck I gotta go back to Good Will an' hope there Will be anythin' Good -- ), they are not fueled by camaraderie or even ham-fisted attempts at communication]
[this is all Blood and Truth (and, knowing Genkaku, stupid fucking Lovers). he's out for claim and connection, by force
( ... )
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 2 2011, 23:20:32 UTC
[ if he registers Badou's (truthful) speaking, it doesn't show on his face; a dry and lavished tongue laps at cracked lips, eyes not even looking into that one for confirmation and awareness, too entrapped on the corpse-pallid skin being bared by inches under the dark, ripping fabric (the contrast always, always is noticeable) ]
[ he's seated, pins long legs down by the thighs and his own weight, hands raking collarbones, down that hollowed (hardened) chest, callouses dragging noisily over dry skin like soapstone, all friction and heat and selfishness ]
We'll start nice an' easy. Shit I already know.
[ a foot kicks the knife up and, in one fluid and smooth motion, it's sheathed between two of Badou's ribs: two of Greed's fingers ]
[his hand immediately grips the wrist holding the knife, grinding thick bones together, eye going wild and furious]
[the wiry body arches only once, and then goes lockjaw tight; it doesn't do to stir up your own fucking insides on someone else's knife]
[even still, the scarred hand moves as quick and vicious as Genkaku's own namesake, wrapping around the other's neck and exerting a crushing, bony pressure on the windpipe]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 01:45:14 UTC
[ he can feel the arch of his body more than he can feel his own air being cut off -- that gasped hadn't been in response to the hand, after all ]
[ his teeth grit and his muscles tighten, but his carving remains too steady as it makes a slow climb up the cage of his ribs, bumping and grating metal into bones the whole way, knicking little teeth into the ivories trapped with in ]
Lehggo or I'll cahhrve out yer fuckin' hhheart.
[ rasped for breath, the nanomachines don't buzz (he's too driven on psychosis to not make true on his promise) ]
[ he continues feverishly, vehemently, not waiting, as his free hand smears in dripping trails of blood. he finally rises to that face, finally meets who exactly he's doing this to (red fingers trail on that bottom lip, needy for the right words to tumble through); ]
[teeth gnash hard and hateful in Badou's mouth; whether it's because of the path of the knife, or because truth doesn't taste as good as nicotine, is up for debate]
Fuck, fuck - FUCK, shit! Yes! You fucking know that! You son of a bitch, take it out -
[his body hums and twitches with the effort of trying to stay still, to stay fucking calm, but when the metal bites at innards too deep, when it bumps against bone, he can't help it - he convulses beneath the dissection]
[the hand around the other's throat only tightens]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 05:02:51 UTC
[ a powerdrunk sort of smile creeps across his features when nothing comes but rabbit-breath-and-beat and the wolf's claw backs away from the fatal point ]
I toldja I'd come back for 'em. You remember? 'Course ya do. You remember everything.
[ a half-lidded gaze watches how the stained silver slides on skin, leaving little red glycerin trails, until it finally catches nearly to his armpit ]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 05:46:19 UTC
[ his weight shifts definitely then -- but not to climb off, only climb higher; he leans with hair falling down on the other man's face and presses a licking kiss to the corner of his mouth, his hand clenched over his shoulder with the blade pointing at his jugular ]
[ his voice is almost as tender as the the kiss and the humble pacifism of the knife; ]
You like my creativity.
[ a hot palm slides down his bare belly, smears blood onto the lip of his boxers, fingers pressing wantonly ]
We can do this one'a two ways. I can take what I want, or you can tell me what I wanna hear.
[ he's all shambling and ragged, dragging a knife with that nails-on-chalkboard scratch along counter tops and refrigerator doors, his voice just below sing-song; ]
Ohhh, Fooooooox...
[ the scratching comes on the wooden face of the bathroom door, like a bird clawingpecking for entry at a windowsill ]
Reply
[he dribbles toothpaste on his t-shirt collar as he gurglegrumbles an affirmative - before his hindbrain has time to replay those tickytacky nerve pricking noises]
Reply
[his eye flickers briefly to the lack of window (don't get in a room you can't get out of) and the lack of anything relatively heavy to swing]
[he mutters, with no little regret and no little amount of toothpaste]
...Mother'a fuck.
Reply
[ the knife isn't shown like a threat, isn't waved like a it's a real stick-up -- Badou's too good for that kind of showmanship -- but held at bay as a big paw seizes up an ankle to drop him on the floor and drag him out like a corpse into a rainy grave ]
You promised. You remember? You can't lie right now, either. It'll hurt you. I don't want it to hurt you.
[ he rattles, biting at his lip to keep the chatter from spilling over, but teeth have never stopped him before; ]
Yuh promised, Fox.
Reply
[as the hard angles of his body hit the regrettably much harder tiles of the floor, he rams his only, foamy weapon towards the other's eyes, legs (cold and bare) striking out at the other man's torso powerfully]
Get the hell o'ffa me, you fuckin' psychotwat, the hell're you babblin' about? Shitshit ow -- you're gonna put out somebody's eye with that fuckin' thing!
Reply
[ dragged through the entrance and to him, under him, peeling fingers off of the door frame like a clung cat afraid of the tub, he doesn't even bother with protecting himself as fingers demand and rake at the other's body ]
[ wide-eyed and air-mouthed, the tearing of fabric prompts more shakes; ]
Aah, yeah, I'll take that next... Kakakakah, one scar at a time, 'til it's all mine. You're all mine. You like it?
Reply
[there is even a difference between this and the drink-and-drugs fueled pissfights that end with bruises on the face, blood under nails, and hair ripped out and knotted around fingers. that kinda thing is just - loosely termed - fun]
[but that laugh, those preoccupied hands ripping up the seam of his t-shirt (fuck I gotta go back to Good Will an' hope there Will be anythin' Good -- ), they are not fueled by camaraderie or even ham-fisted attempts at communication]
[this is all Blood and Truth (and, knowing Genkaku, stupid fucking Lovers). he's out for claim and connection, by force ( ... )
Reply
[ he's seated, pins long legs down by the thighs and his own weight, hands raking collarbones, down that hollowed (hardened) chest, callouses dragging noisily over dry skin like soapstone, all friction and heat and selfishness ]
We'll start nice an' easy. Shit I already know.
[ a foot kicks the knife up and, in one fluid and smooth motion, it's sheathed between two of Badou's ribs: two of Greed's fingers ]
Do you love me?
Reply
[his hand immediately grips the wrist holding the knife, grinding thick bones together, eye going wild and furious]
[the wiry body arches only once, and then goes lockjaw tight; it doesn't do to stir up your own fucking insides on someone else's knife]
[even still, the scarred hand moves as quick and vicious as Genkaku's own namesake, wrapping around the other's neck and exerting a crushing, bony pressure on the windpipe]
No! Fuck no! GET THE FUCK OFF --
Reply
[ his teeth grit and his muscles tighten, but his carving remains too steady as it makes a slow climb up the cage of his ribs, bumping and grating metal into bones the whole way, knicking little teeth into the ivories trapped with in ]
Lehggo or I'll cahhrve out yer fuckin' hhheart.
[ rasped for breath, the nanomachines don't buzz (he's too driven on psychosis to not make true on his promise) ]
[ he continues feverishly, vehemently, not waiting, as his free hand smears in dripping trails of blood. he finally rises to that face, finally meets who exactly he's doing this to (red fingers trail on that bottom lip, needy for the right words to tumble through); ]
Do you need me?
Reply
Fuck, fuck - FUCK, shit! Yes! You fucking know that! You son of a bitch, take it out -
[his body hums and twitches with the effort of trying to stay still, to stay fucking calm, but when the metal bites at innards too deep, when it bumps against bone, he can't help it - he convulses beneath the dissection]
[the hand around the other's throat only tightens]
Reply
[ he does take the knife out, but it's only to tickle the knife's end threateningly against the side of his breast, above his wildly beating heart ]
Reply
[but the clench of his hand releases, already leaving discolouration in it's wake]
[his snapping curses cease, replaced with the quick, shallow pull from gritty lungs]
Reply
I toldja I'd come back for 'em. You remember? 'Course ya do. You remember everything.
[ a half-lidded gaze watches how the stained silver slides on skin, leaving little red glycerin trails, until it finally catches nearly to his armpit ]
I like that. Next question, aaah...
[ he drags the blade down, separates skin, makes a lopsided and uneven "ex" straight over the body of the old scars ]
Do you want me here?
Reply
[it doesn't hurt as much as the sheath had, but the skin, expecting pain, heightens the anxiety and impact]
[the ambiguous question isn't answered, and instead between canines is ground out the statement]
A g-goddamn interrogation wasn't part'a the deal.
Reply
[ his voice is almost as tender as the the kiss and the humble pacifism of the knife; ]
You like my creativity.
[ a hot palm slides down his bare belly, smears blood onto the lip of his boxers, fingers pressing wantonly ]
We can do this one'a two ways. I can take what I want, or you can tell me what I wanna hear.
Reply
Leave a comment