[ 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 ]
[he'd like to think there isn't a difference, between the violation of the knife at his throat (familiar) and that of the hand painting a streak of blood down his abdomen (exceedingly unfamiliar). people who get fucked over get fucked over, period, and that's all there is to it, or so he'd thought]
[but it really isn't the same at all]
[his stomach doesn't churn with uncomfortable disgust at the threat of violence. his skin doesn't prickle and cold sweat, limbs slightly paralyzed. he doesn't feel close enough to that edge, that awesome rushing high of being pushed just a little bit too far, and being about to repay the favour in spades]
[there's a black rage that boils up instead, and regardless of the knife (maybe even because of it), Badou slams his fist into the side of the other's temple, hard enough to produce a resounding crack]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 06:27:16 UTC
[ and he recoils, rocked back onto his haunches, onto the man's thighs again, blood running from temple to chin, curving over the bent planes of his grinning face ]
[ he drops the knife completely, letting it clatter to the hard floors; the hand that had been so erogenously placed swallows the fresh wounds on the man's ribs ]
Ya think I ever would? Not denyin' I'm capable, but do you think I would?
[ fingers dig into the points of the blade's path, stuck under the flesh like an insect trying to worm its way into warmth ]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 08:36:04 UTC
[ inaccurately predicted (predictable of Badou), with the monk leaning forward to hover the wounds he's protectively jamming his fingers into (with four long, strained demons to exorcise), the knife catches him long right in the valley of the scar on his chest, and as the fresh cut drips, he knocks the weapon from his hand to let it tumble out of both of their reaches ]
[ there's a sharp sort of exhale as his bare skin collects more and more running blood, lightly touching the run on his own abdomen ]
You got it.
[ his dug-in fingers openly drag, smearing and splitting skin wider, welling the wound up-- ]
[ and something shifts a little, when the monk finally meets that one eye and asks; ]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 3 2011, 23:15:40 UTC
[ he doesn't relent, clawingtearing at the wounds with a thrum and tightening of the muscles in his forearm, nailbeds aching as if he were scratching at the walls of a concrete cell ]
[ not directly replying, his head declines to snake-lick the needleprick he'd left on the undergrounder's chest, cat-rough tongue tasting sweat and ash ]
[ he won't stop until those claws are obscured, angry fist curling the way they wind around the back ]
[ after a moment, his breath is cool against the spit left behind on the skin; ]
[a pained writheflinch does more harm than good, and he chokes another almost-laugh, turning his head and banging it twice against the tile - a concussion would be preferable to that slow pull apart]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 4 2011, 00:03:47 UTC
[ they've traded countenances now; Genkaku had been high and thrilled earlier, but now Badou's the one laughing and the monk's own question has left a burning sort of ache ]
[ speaking of -- while his fingers have torn open open the wound, the discoloration isn't gone, he can still see it blossoming up underneath the blood ]
[ rummaging in his pants pocket for a familiar holding, the catch of this lighter might be perhaps the only one Badou won't find comforting ]
[he realises the tatters of his skin have stopped being pulled only after he feels heat flicker against his abdomen]
[his eye cuts through messy strands of hair, and it's a schizophrenic, overwhelmed mutter to himself]
N-no, no fuckin' way -
[before his struggling resumes in earnest, one hand holding tight the wrist with the lighter in it, the other lashing out behind him in a desperate scrabble, trying to find a handhold to wrench himself free]
[failing that, he slams his fist into the other's split chest, digging his fingers into the lip of the wound and rending]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 4 2011, 00:39:56 UTC
[ a trapped animal's bound to squirm, and the monk's prepared; the digits that rip at his own wound get smashed between both of their chests as Genkaku pins him down with his weight, the scorching skin letting up for just a moment ]
[ with legs paralleled, his elbow drops down next to the fox's head and his forearm coils around the top of it like a bad wrestling move to keep him from writhing too much (teeth, too, he's prepared for -- that hand's the one with all the old scars) ]
[ the rising heat burns his side, too, catches both of their ribs aflame, but the monk only exhales a harsh, hissing breath into the other man's hair (and ear), cheek to cheek with the the stitching of his eyepatch ]
[of course, the smaller redhead fights him. short, barked laughter turns to angry snarling - no beast wants to get roasted, and Badou's been burned enough in his life]
[that corpse skin heats up all over, and there's a fever-flush cast to his face as he curses and writhes viciously beneath the other, his whole body attempting to cause harm, somewhere, somehow]
[freeing himself from that crushing weight on his head, Badou thrusts his head to the side, delivering a hard off-kilter headbutt (teeth snapping and scraping, catching the line of the other's jaw true to form), spitting venom all the while]
[he feels the skin on his ribs bubbling up, bursting apart in the heat, scalding and painful, and howls to it]
Re: {ACTION}prayforpreyFebruary 6 2011, 07:58:00 UTC
[ all of that pain is taken, the karmic balance, the receiving of what you send out threefold fulfilled; Badou's writhing body stirs him to stillness, and he finally releases the flow of fuel into the lighter's flame when it's licked away all of those old scars and made the blood boil ]
[ his shoulders are shaking with exhaled tension, and he slowly eases away instead of snapping back (no absence of teeth and tongue, but his animal's reactions are still out of place) ]
[ he looks down at the undergrounder laying bared beneath him, on top of those tattered, dark ribbons of clothing with Genkaku's Sweat and Genkaku's Spit left behind, and his expression softensoftensoftens to a pained, gentle smile ]
[ there's truth in that expression that he doesn't need to say, doesn't need to get zapped into him by invisible micromachines ]
[ this is all he needs. Badou in pain, Badou hurting for him, Badou answering the questions Genkaku wouldn't have asked a year ago with more than just teeth, Badou being alive for him[ this is all he'll ever
( ... )
[the soft touch to the burning, ragged gash curdles his stomach, makes him want to writhe hard enough to dislocate his spinal chord if only to get the fuck away]
[but the pain has locked up his senses, made him paralytic, and he only trembles to it, not in fear but in anguish]
[it takes him a few moments to regain control of his mind, his tongue, his limbs]
[ 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
[but it really isn't the same at all]
[his stomach doesn't churn with uncomfortable disgust at the threat of violence. his skin doesn't prickle and cold sweat, limbs slightly paralyzed. he doesn't feel close enough to that edge, that awesome rushing high of being pushed just a little bit too far, and being about to repay the favour in spades]
[there's a black rage that boils up instead, and regardless of the knife (maybe even because of it), Badou slams his fist into the side of the other's temple, hard enough to produce a resounding crack]
Reply
[ he drops the knife completely, letting it clatter to the hard floors; the hand that had been so erogenously placed swallows the fresh wounds on the man's ribs ]
Ya think I ever would? Not denyin' I'm capable, but do you think I would?
[ fingers dig into the points of the blade's path, stuck under the flesh like an insect trying to worm its way into warmth ]
Reply
[his voice is a low, growling assertion, completely focused]
Ya could, and ya would, but ya won't. Not ever. Not t'me.
[the absence of electricity verifies it; he believes it to be true]
[as Genkaku's fingers dig, Badou's crawl, and the knife is pressed against his palm in the next moment]
[even as he swings a second time, he knows it won't work]
Reply
[ there's a sharp sort of exhale as his bare skin collects more and more running blood, lightly touching the run on his own abdomen ]
You got it.
[ his dug-in fingers openly drag, smearing and splitting skin wider, welling the wound up-- ]
[ and something shifts a little, when the monk finally meets that one eye and asks; ]
So what do you want with me?
Reply
Haa, haaaa - f-fuck, shit -
[sweat runs down Badou's temples, streaking back through orange bursts of hair and disappearing into the dark straps of his eyepatch]
[it's chattered out, Badou's hands vicing around the other's wrists, trying to stop the tearingparting]
S-somebody -- on m-my side. T'trust. Fuck -
Reply
[ not directly replying, his head declines to snake-lick the needleprick he'd left on the undergrounder's chest, cat-rough tongue tasting sweat and ash ]
[ he won't stop until those claws are obscured, angry fist curling the way they wind around the back ]
[ after a moment, his breath is cool against the spit left behind on the skin; ]
Are you ever gonna leave without me?
Reply
[a pained writheflinch does more harm than good, and he chokes another almost-laugh, turning his head and banging it twice against the tile - a concussion would be preferable to that slow pull apart]
Reply
[ speaking of -- while his fingers have torn open open the wound, the discoloration isn't gone, he can still see it blossoming up underneath the blood ]
[ rummaging in his pants pocket for a familiar holding, the catch of this lighter might be perhaps the only one Badou won't find comforting ]
[ he'll fucking burn the rest off. ]
Reply
[his eye cuts through messy strands of hair, and it's a schizophrenic, overwhelmed mutter to himself]
N-no, no fuckin' way -
[before his struggling resumes in earnest, one hand holding tight the wrist with the lighter in it, the other lashing out behind him in a desperate scrabble, trying to find a handhold to wrench himself free]
[failing that, he slams his fist into the other's split chest, digging his fingers into the lip of the wound and rending]
Reply
[ with legs paralleled, his elbow drops down next to the fox's head and his forearm coils around the top of it like a bad wrestling move to keep him from writhing too much (teeth, too, he's prepared for -- that hand's the one with all the old scars) ]
[ the rising heat burns his side, too, catches both of their ribs aflame, but the monk only exhales a harsh, hissing breath into the other man's hair (and ear), cheek to cheek with the the stitching of his eyepatch ]
Reply
[that corpse skin heats up all over, and there's a fever-flush cast to his face as he curses and writhes viciously beneath the other, his whole body attempting to cause harm, somewhere, somehow]
[freeing himself from that crushing weight on his head, Badou thrusts his head to the side, delivering a hard off-kilter headbutt (teeth snapping and scraping, catching the line of the other's jaw true to form), spitting venom all the while]
[he feels the skin on his ribs bubbling up, bursting apart in the heat, scalding and painful, and howls to it]
Reply
[ his shoulders are shaking with exhaled tension, and he slowly eases away instead of snapping back (no absence of teeth and tongue, but his animal's reactions are still out of place) ]
[ he looks down at the undergrounder laying bared beneath him, on top of those tattered, dark ribbons of clothing with Genkaku's Sweat and Genkaku's Spit left behind, and his expression softensoftensoftens to a pained, gentle smile ]
[ there's truth in that expression that he doesn't need to say, doesn't need to get zapped into him by invisible micromachines ]
[ this is all he needs. Badou in pain, Badou hurting for him, Badou answering the questions Genkaku wouldn't have asked a year ago with more than just teeth, Badou being alive for him[ this is all he'll ever ( ... )
Reply
[but the pain has locked up his senses, made him paralytic, and he only trembles to it, not in fear but in anguish]
[it takes him a few moments to regain control of his mind, his tongue, his limbs]
Reply
Don't you fuckin' forget it.
[before wrenching the other down forcefully, hand crushing the other's jaw and wrenching it to the side, until thin, delicate bones at the hinge snap]
Reply
Now... no more fuckin' questions.
Reply
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