[closed] for now - will be OPEN later when the threads get going

[grandhighblood]

Characters: GHB + Signless (maybe others)

Setting: Random floor - 48 (graveyard)

Format: doesn't matter

Summary: The GHB and Signless square off... for some reason. Oh right, because GHB killed him earlier.

Warnings: GHB

He's finally reached the last floor of this motherfucking pointless tower of tricks and traps, some which he had to learn the hard way and earn some scars from it and some he just got lucky. It's all so unpredictable.

The air on this floor is stale and musty, of death. It's one he's very familiar with, and although it doesn't exactly put him at ease, it's something he's familiar with. Sure, he's more used to fresh bodies that are squeezed dry then tossed into a flaming sacrificial pit, but you can only ask for so much. He takes a look around the graveyard, which is a foreign sort of place for him altogether. Trolls didn't have graveyards, after all. They merely left their dead to be absorbed back into the ground.

He inspects the graves, wondering why these aliens bothered with such a ritual. Why? Did it serve a grander purpose in this universe as the Vast Honk? He'll never know just from looking at them here alone, that's for sure. One of these days, he'd have to get someone to explain it to him.

Comments

[grandhighblood]

Heh, chill your motherfucking shame globes, motherfucker. See, it don't even all up and matter if you answer a brother or not- I know who the motherfuck your shitty little pants-wetting pansy ass motherfucker descendant is.

[And then suddenly frowns, surging forward, leaning down into Signless's defiant face.]

Ain't nothing like his washed-up descendant though. He puts up more of a motherfucking fight than YOUR pathetic ass does!

[iron_infidel]

[A short growl echoed from within his throat as once more his fingers tensed upon the grip of his weapon.]

I am glad that he does, being that he is a sound leader and an even better friend. After the trauma and challenges he had to face I can only assume he has grown into that of a fighter. It is not be looked down on that I choose a passive stance and wish not to fight unless there is a need. Do not be fooled, simply because I am not one to fight that I do not know how. I only have come to warn you to stay away from him and the others, currently.

[grandhighblood]

[Narrows his eyes, his expression growing dead-pan. The growl makes the highblood respond with a low growl of his own, lips barely lifting off his teeth.]

Yeah? Well, you motherfucking wasted your BREATH. What's your flimsy mutated ass gonna do about it if I all up and don't, anyway?

[And because he loves picking fights...]

[iron_infidel]

[Turning his head ever slightly, in a slight cocky gesture. He takes in a deep breath and allows it to escape form his nose.]

Defend him. Make sure you do not hurt him.

[grandhighblood]

Interesting. Make sure, yeah? Motherfucker gonna stand up to me on a one-on-one battle, and get down with the wicked bloodshed?

[iron_infidel]

I am not one who is open to violence, but I will do what I can to defend myself and those that I care deeply for.

[grandhighblood]

Now that's something I'd like to motherfucking see.

[And on cue, a medium-sized club - not his usual blood-stained one - slides into his hand. Its wide end thuds to the ground as he takes a defensive stance, as if daring the Signless to make the first move.]

[iron_infidel]

[He stood his ground, not moving an inch farther.]

Good to know that is your wish. Perhaps when it is needed, such a wish will be granted.

[grandhighblood]

[He should've known, of course the pacifist troll wouldn't attack him first. With a slight shake of his head, he laughs. Being in such close proximity to him, the highblood only needs to raise his arm and swing...

Which he does, from the side.

It's not a terribly strong swing, either. He tends to enjoy playing with his prey before finishing them off.]

[iron_infidel]

[He immediately takes the defensive and raises his sickle against his club; the metal clangs against the blunt object. Placing pressure in order to hold back the weapon from coming into contact with his skull. He pushes his weight into the ground, in order to keep his stance strong. He can not afford to falter.]