towerofanimus | staring into oblivion

Characters: The Grand Highblood + anyone who dares to join
Setting: Floor 12
Format: Any
Summary: The Grand Highblood is fascinated by spaaaaaaaace.
Warnings: The Grand Highblood.

The eight foot (give and take a foot or so) or so lumbering mass of a troll had taken his wanderings to the staircase, curious of his surroundings (he didn't even bother changing out of that ridiculous white suit yet). He had conquered many planets and galaxies in his lifetime, but there had never been a place with such an odd tower that contained the illusion of space so motherfucking well. The whole point of this was to see just how many floors this thing had and what they were like, but he became quite attached to this floor in it's Space-y glory.

He is quite aware of the fact that he's "trapped," but he honestly has no intentions of escaping right now. Her Imperious Condescension was here, among many other trolls that were in dire need of keeping the motherfuck in line. It was fine. Everything's motherfucking fine, as long as he can just....sit.... in this motherfucking room..........

"Motherfucking miracles."

A phrase he hasn't exclaimed out loud in a long while. He sits and watches the destruction of planets and the sparkling debris they leave behind. It's a rare moment of calm for the usually violent and active troll.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The troll silently lifts a second finger and presses it right below the first cut. More blood seeps out of the second wound, and he grins wider. It's been a while since he's killed anyone so young.]

Nothing to motherfucking stutter out, RORY HUMAN?

[ in a burst of terror and adrenaline Rory reaches up and pushes at the large hand wrapped around his throat. because damnit, he doesn't want to die. and if he does well, he's got to go out trying. and so he pushes hard and tries to ignore the agony in his neck, the lightheaded cloudy feel that's starting to settle. ]

Get off!

[ it's small but guess what, no stutter. ]

[Surprise, the highblood releases Rory, mostly out of surprise. Then again, he already knows that small creatures always make a last minute desperate attempt to flee. He loves it.]

Show me some motherfucking life, motherfucker! YES, MOTHERFUCKING RUN.

[But he doesn't even pause to allow him that and lunges forward, mouth open and teeth ready to close down over the nearest body part.]

[ Rory doesn't know where it comes from, he just knows it's there and he plasters himself to the floor, both hands coming up to clamp over his neck. he can feel pain explode in his shoulder but it seems like more a glancing blow than anything and he rolls over, struggling to get to his feet. he makes a strange, harsh sounding sort of whimper when the pain in his neck stops him. ]

[ logically he doesn't stand a fighting chance and he makes another straining sound as he pushes to his elbow, one sticky bloody hand nearly slipping on the floor. better than nothing. ]

[When his teeth clamp down on empty air, his eyes dart downwards. There's no rush, as he takes a menacing step forward, and grasps the front of Rory's shirt loosely, no nails contacting with skin. It's not exactly fun if he immediately offs his prey. He's gotta work them up a little. Give them a chance to think they can find a way out, then bury that chance.]

You motherfucking hear me, human? IF YOU GET OUT OF THIS ALIVE, YOU BEST REMEMBER WHAT I MOTHERFUCKING ALL TOLD YOU HERE.

[He steps over Rory easily, both feet planted on either side of the boy, and crouches so that his face is hovering towards him. He bares his teeth once more, but doesn't lunge. He gives Rory a small opening to at least say or do something. Crying and begging for his life sounded like good options to him. His troll preys had always taken to making themselves more pathetic in an attempt to gain a sliver of pity, but it never worked.]

Edited 2011-12-05 06:27 (UTC)

[ make no mistake, he is crying. he's still got one hand pressed against the wounds on his neck like it'll make any sort of difference and each breath is sharp and harsh and poor kid looks like he's on the verge of a heart attack at any second. this had been honestly the most innocent walk of his life, hadn't it, and now yet again everything's gone to shit. ]

[ still, when he's give that moment to speak, only one thing can come to mind. ]

If... if I see you, run. [ sorry if he's not overly articulate. but the lesson has very much been learned, thanks. ]

Motherfuck yeah.

[The Grand Highblood had no weapons on his person like he usually did. He always carried a giant club with him to bludgeon his targets into pulp, but since he did not anymore, he feels he has no choice but to resort to a more...messy approach. Even though there obviously are less messy ways of doing so, he just didn't see the point in that.

With his earlier intentions of biting still in his mind, he opens his mouth wide and sinks his teeth into the other side of Rory's neck - almost down to the bone - and rips it out. His teeth are razor sharp, so there's no problem in getting through any of the veins and muscle, and it would ensure Rory an extremely painful, but somewhat quick death. A couple minutes, give and take a few.]

[ extremely painful doesn't actually begin to describe it, and Rory barely has enough air in him to make a terrified noise as he falls back, feet scrabbling against the floor. he's shaking horribly when he brings his hands up, eyes squeezing shut and blood dripping in rivets down the side of his face to join the pool under his head. ]

[ it doesn't take long at all, really. he keeps his eyes shut, tears still sliding down his face to mix with the blood until watered down pink joins the mess on his face and neck. slowly muscles relax as everything goes sort of quiet, sort of dark, and still very, very painful until finally even the pain vanishes. one last labored breath and one less human, at least for the time being. ]

[ no, it doesn't take long at all, but it couldn't have been slower. ]

[The highblood raises his head, and with hardly a glance at the carnage, he swipes a finger through the dark pool of blood and grimaces. Even though it's dark in this room, he knows it's not as bright a red as he had hoped. It's closer to a rustblood, if anything.

He moves over to one side of Rory's bleeding body and draws a smiley face on the ground, then he turns around to head back up to the stairs.]

staring into oblivion

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