towerofanimus | we need some downtime

Entry tags:

we need some downtime

Characters: the grand highblood
Setting: that weird spring forever floor
Format: don't care
Summary: he is bleeding a little but he's pretty beat up from that fight, and worn out. being a big target is tough work, ok??? he's been wandering around the new floors and found himself sitting out in the middle of the grassy field. oh god do you want to approach him? he looks surprisingly peaceful???
Warnings: the grand highblood

[ it's really bright on this floor, but he found himself adjusting to it somewhat. it definitely wasn't anything as strong as Alternia's sun. he's sore, scratched up, bruised and plain old tired, so he's sitting in the middle of a grassy field, surrounded by delicate yellow and purple flowers.

a very bizarre scene indeed.

he's just resting up, trying to regain some strength. ]

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[Oh, this is a familiar situation. He stares right back down at the mage, chuckling a little.]

Well, well, well. If it ain't the motherfucking mage, Vivi.

[Tilts his head one way to glance at the troll's beat up state, noticing the bleeding. He pulls out a paper towel and hands it to the troll.] You should really go to the infirmary. Or be in bed. But I don't think you would, so at least use this for the bleeding a bit?

[Eyes the paper towel and lets the grin just settle on his face. He plucks the near useless paper towel out of the mage's hand, just holding onto it without using it. It's only useless because he deemed it useless in his head, whoops. He just doesn't care about these bitty scratches, ok!!]

Well, fuck, man. Aren't you a the fucking know-it-all. This shit isn't even a motherfucking thing, and I've dealt with the bitching wounds in my time.

I'm not smart enough to be a know-it-all. But if you're hurt you should rest, right? [Contemplates how stupid he's about to be, but decides to be absolutely stupid anyway, poking one of the still bleeding scratches.]

[He hadn't been paying the mage much attention as they spoke, so he isn't exactly prepared for the poke against his bleeding wounds. Who does that anyway?? Why would you embark on such a suicide mission, Vivi???]

What the fuck does it all loOK LIKE I'M-- MOTHERFUCKER, keep your curious shitty grubby fingers to your motherfucking self. You see me getting all chummy up in your open wounds? [Not that Vivi had any, but still.]

[He's just trying to make a point, please don't kill the helpless-looking midget in a ridonkulously huge hat!

Jumps a little and pulls his hand up but stares up at the troll stubbornly.] If it hurts then you should go get them patched up! They could get infected and then you could get sick and DIE.

[Okay, perhaps a bit dramatic especially considering they're scratches, but he worries about the troll he sorta kinda thinks of as a friend. Despite the occasional death threats.]

[BAH, don't worry... he won't kill him. He's certainly not in the mood for that right now anyway, and he just growls one last time as a warning.]

You probably did not all motherfucking notice, but I was getting my rest on right the fuck now. Maybe that shit would all like motherfucking heal itself better if a motherfucker wasn't all shoving their little fingers into them.

[He sort of rolls his eyes, totally unappreciative of Vivi's concern.]

[Huffs and reaches up to snatch back to napkins from the troll's hand, wadding them up to lightly dab at the cut he'd just poked to clean up the blood.]

Even adults can be big babies, huh?

[He doesn't say it as an insult, just stating a point he's noticed as he keeps cleaning up the blood here and there from where he can reach... which admittedly isn't very much given his height issues, but points for effort?]

[muttering under his breath.] ...the fuck is a motherfucking babies?

[Then as minutes pass, he just watches the little mage do his best to mop up the blood...and something in the back of his twisted thinkpan says this is sort of cute. But that thought is immediately pushed out and just grunts impatiently.]

Leave it. I have motherfucking endured pain much worse than these. They will heal with time.

[Blinks and moves around to the troll's other side.] Babies? Like... younger versions of people? Before they can walk and talk, uuum... Just born?

[Stops and makes a face at the indigo-stained napkin, shoving it into his pocket and using a clean paper towel to continue.] This tower's too weird - I don't think it's a good idea to leave cuts exposed to the air, you know? Maybe the pollen from these plants could infect you or something nasty.

[Oh, like a wriggler. Except maybe it's some weird human/alien thing. He just watches the little mage scoot around him. He laughs at his over-concern about the little things like...pollen....and infections....]

Nothing a little trip to the motherfucking bathtub couldn't all fix. I've lived quite a few lifetimes more than an average troll, and I've motherfucking experienced the worst of injuries!

Infections and disease are obstacles thrown down onto us as a motherfucking test. They are just one of the millions and motherfucking billions of problems that get thrown our way, and if you survive, you live another fucking day. Your worth bursts through the swarming, writhing masses of motherfucking lowlifes and weak as motherfuckers... and best be believing that as a highblood, I made it through that tumultuous shitstorm. We indigo-bloods are built with superior bodies and immune systems, motherfuckers below us can't even fucking compare.

[He grins, starting to feel comfortable even as the Mage dabs at his wounds. It's nice to talk about highbloods again, even if he truly is the last of them now.]

[Vivi finishes with the dabbing and settles in front of the troll, head tilting as he listens to the explanation on... rather violent culture. He braces his staff against his shoulder and stares up at the troll.]

Are indigo-bloods the strongest then? I mean, mister Summoner explained a bit to me some time ago, but he never said what was the highest or lowest...

[Scoffs harshly at the mention of the Summoner. Ugh, that totally kills his mood for a second...]

That motherfucker didn't explain because he already knows he's at the bottom of the motherfucking barrel, and doesn't want to admit it. Indigo-bloods all have the potential to be the fucking strongest, we live the longest lives second to Her Imperious Condescension, and only we are allowed into the ranks of the great Subjugglators. Our motherfucking jurisdiction covers multiple galaxies, but the one I, the Grand Highblood, occupy is the motherfucking headquarters where we convene and frequently gather for our religious practices. It's a motherfucking simple society, but we all follow the strictest of conducts when it all comes down to it. Lowbloods scrounge about on the motherfucking dirt and wouldn't be at all able to understand.

[takes a deep breath.]

Like your motherfucking friend? The Summoner? He's probably one of the lowest of the motherfucking low all around here next to that psychic freak palemate of his.

Oooh.................................................. [Tilts head to one side.] What about mister Signless? I know he's friends with mister Psiioniic but I have no idea what his blood colour is.

Heh heh, oh, him? Well, he's a motherfucking weirdo when it all comes to placing him in the motherfucking hemospectrum. A real shitty mutant candy-red blood.

[He grins at the thought, though, despite his mixed feelings for the Signless.]

Surprised you don't know, though, brother. He flaunts that shit like it's all motherfucking worth something.

Um, I only met him once and he was kind of busy trying to find mister Psiioniic at the time.

[Pokes at a nearby flower's petals, liking the bright red against his dark gloves.]

Are you friends with mister Signless?

[He goes silent for a minute, and sorta...looks off into space...huh. Man, it's annoying that he has to actually stop and think about this shit.]

No. Motherfucker's just all a thorn in a brother's side.

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we need some downtime

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