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towerofanimus2011-12-07 11:37 pm
highbloods.livejournal.com) wrote in towerofanimus2011-12-07 11:37 pm
Entry tags:
not interested in deep conversations
Characters: The Grand Highblood + anyone
Setting: Cafeteria
Format: Any
Summary: The Grand Highblood is not amused by the food but whatevs?
Warnings: The Grand Highblood.
It's almost comical how the highblood is hunched over at a table that seems a bit small for him and eating a bowl of oatmeal(????). His face doesn't show his opinions of the sludge, but he doesn't seem to be hating or loving it. Surprisingly neutral, which is saying something if you happened to know the nature of this particular highblood.
He's pretty distracted, so you'll have a 50/50 chance of getting on his good side or his don't-give-a-fuck side. Then again, he is pretty unpredictable.
Do you dare approacheth the grazing adult troll in his not-so-natural habitat?
Setting: Cafeteria
Format: Any
Summary: The Grand Highblood is not amused by the food but whatevs?
Warnings: The Grand Highblood.
It's almost comical how the highblood is hunched over at a table that seems a bit small for him and eating a bowl of oatmeal(????). His face doesn't show his opinions of the sludge, but he doesn't seem to be hating or loving it. Surprisingly neutral, which is saying something if you happened to know the nature of this particular highblood.
He's pretty distracted, so you'll have a 50/50 chance of getting on his good side or his don't-give-a-fuck side. Then again, he is pretty unpredictable.
Do you dare approacheth the grazing adult troll in his not-so-natural habitat?
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Even when the thrashing set of horns scrape at one of his calves, he pays it no mind and quickly gets to his feet as the Summoner does. It's only natural that smaller creatures would not go for the more straightforward approach, so he's ready when the Summoner aims for his knee. He lets him.
And motherfuck that hurts, but his movements do not falter even when he lets out a pained roar through his maniacal laughter. He grabs what he had been planning to grab for a while now (not the wings) and wraps huge fights around the Summoner's large horns to bring the shorter troll's face down to smash it against his rising, uninjured knee.]
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[Makes a pained, choking kind of sound, flailing for the bit of wood. Being disoriented is hard! But once his hand hits it, he twists it out of the Highblood's knee, moving to stick it in this uninjured leg here instead]
[HE'S AIMING FOR YOUR BULGE NEXT IF YOU DON'T LET HIM GO, JACKASS]
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Breathing heavily, he assesses the damage and the bit of space between them. He doesn't want to give the Summoner too much time to recover, but he's in no hurry.]
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[He's also... laughing... in little short bursts, low, kind of manic, teeth bared. After a second, the blood on his makeshift spear catches his eye, and he... wraps his hand around the tip.... It comes away purple and wet, and he wipes that hand across one cheek. Highblood warpaint. Seems appropriate. He has never fought the Highblood so personally before!]
[And then he's just... flipping the other troll off with the hand still coated indigo, tapping the tip of the spear against the ground, quick tempo and frantic. Come on then, toro toro etc]
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His purple blood is smeared across the lowblood's face. How dare he!!! That's motherfucking precious fluids right there, and it angers him further to see that none of this shitblood's blood has been spilled. He plans to remedy this problem soon enough.
With both arms down by his sides, he stops and claws at the ground with his good leg and roars. A battle cry, as he charges towards the Summoner and takes a test swing at him.]
Don't you all motherfuckin' DARE AND GO TRY TO FLY AWAY, MOTHERFUCKER!
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[The Highblood gets close enough, and, much like the torero referenced in the previous tag, he dips under the first swing, moving towards the Highblood's bad side and aiming his spear into his side]
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Enraged, like a tortured bull, he swings a paddle down like an axe and attempts to smash the spear. If he gets an entire arm though, he's certainly not complaining.]
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[And worse, the brunt of the force does indeed catch the spear, knocking it out of his hand and snapping it apart against the ground]
[There's blood welling up in the cracked skin of his hand, find its way out and into the spaces between his fingers. He clenches his fist though, keeping it from dripping onto the ground as he searches through the wood pile for another stick long enough and sharp enough to serve. His wings have started their shimmering, careful movement, trying to distract the Highblood again while he looks]
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He keeps his eyes on the wings this time, despite it being extremely distracting.]
You know what, brother? [He suddenly asks in the middle of his running, his voice shaky and interrupted by heavy breathing. It's relatively calm though, like he just decided to start up a casual conversation.]
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[He's startled enough that it takes him a second to snap back and start running, trying to dodge around him and get... over there... where the wood pickings are better!!!]
What?!
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He picks up his speed without using flash stepping. It seems talking and fighting comes pretty naturally to the highblood. With a grunt, he chucked one of his paddles at the Summoner like a frisbee on the course for destruction!]
I THINK I GOT THIS SHIT FIGURED OUT. I know what I all gotta motherfucking do.
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Great...!
[He don't really care though, seeing how he has to move as fast as his poor body will go, trying to stay low and get under the frisbee paddle. It still catches the top of his horn though, slamming him the fuck over. And now it's a mad scramble to get back to his feet and get the hell away before the Highblood catches him]
[Between the continued pain in his face, the way his head is still spinning and now trying to coordinate himself in a slippery pile of wood, FOR SOME REASON HE DOES NOT THINK HIS CHANCES ARE VERY GOOD...]
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The highblood doesn't care whether the Summoner seems disinterested in conversation or not, because while the winged troll is dazed, he wastes no time. Suddenly, he gets down to all fours like some animal and leaps across in one powerful jump, nearly crushing the Summoner upon landing.]
Glad you all motherfucking agree. [He whispers, eyes narrowing dangerously, and once more grabs a horn to pull him off the wreckage of tables and chairs.]
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[Grabs the Highblood's wrist for balance and thrashes out with his foot, trying to kick at the other troll's injured knee. Let go let go let go!!!!]
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Yeah. So, he's trying to dig those bad boys out of his back, without damaging them. Just damaging the troll who wears them so proudly. Fortunately for the Summoner, his efforts are only half-assed and soon drops him after a sharp kick directly to the wound in his knee brings him down.]
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[SO YEAH the second he realizes what the Highblood is trying to do he absolutely loses his shit, wings beating frantically against his hand, wood piece clattering to the ground forgotten]
[And then the Highblood's dropped him, and he hits the ground too. He should stop here. There's pain rolling in heady waves down his back. He can't think can't think it's too loud suddenly. He doesn't know how far the subjugglator got and that makes something shriek in absolute panic at the back of his head. There is nothing he fears more then being grounded again!]
[But the panic just adds to the clattering roar his thoughts have become, and without pausing the moment (or... you know... hour or two) that he should, he goes after the Highblood. There is no tactic to it, just a mindless attack, claws brandished, pulling chunks out of the Highblood's skin where and if he can manage it without slowing down. Really, he's only got eyes for your throat now, bro ('8 Good job]
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If there's one thing he loves about fighting, it's all the emotions and sensations he feels. He can't back down now, even if it kills him. Who would've thought such a low blood would provoke such feelings in him? It was sick how each time he drew blood, he could only imagine swirling it around his fingers and covering his walls with it. It was sick because it was such a shitty color.
For now, he just keeps laughing and laughing and laughing.]
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[Well... someone's screaming. There's sort of a disconnect about who exactly it is. It's probably him though, cause the Highblood's just... laughing... and that sound keeps raking down his back like its own set of claws. He can feel exhaustion, maybe blood loss, creeping in, turning the edges of his vision grey. But he's pretty fuzzy on why that would be a thing that's happening too]
[His thoughts have narrowed down to a grand total of two things: panic about whether or not he'll still be able to fly. And wanting to wreck someone's shit. He doesn't even have the sense to care who at this point. The Highblood is just the closest thing at the moment]
[Takes the latest punch, trying to ignore the way the ground tilts rather sickly as he stumbles away, and then he's using the remains of a table to... launch himself at the Highblood's shoulder, trying to climb up high enough that he can finally grab him by the throat!!]
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His laughing stops abruptly when the Summoner throws himself at him, latching onto his throat, and feels himself lose his balance. Then a dizzying sensation washes over him suddenly. It's only natural, though, since he's lost a lot of blood and taken a lot of hits. His body is tempting him to call it quits.
Not willing to let the Summoner jump away or anything, he grasps at one of his arms, trying to yank him off, but then his back hits the floor with a loud thud. His mind reels, willing his body to move despite its obviously slow response.]
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[And as they hit the ground, he also locks his knees around him as best he can, and bites down on his shirt... thing... HE'S NOT GOING NOWHERE BRO, and in fact he's trying to drag himself back up the Highblood's body by the poor subjugglator's collar, struggling against the hand still holding him back]
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The temptation to grasp at the folded wings is strong, but he can't really handle another round of the earlier freakout, as much as he hates to admit it. His body is not responding as well as he'd like since the adrenaline has slowly vanished. So instead, he just tightens his grip on the Summoner's arm and just sort of bears through the pain on his collar, his breathing coming out in ragged intervals. He isn't moving much, but his mind is racing.
With a burst of strength, he takes advantage of their closeness to try and flip their position.]
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[But uh... oh fuck???? Even through the buzz in his head he knows he can't take the Highblood's weight, especially not when his whole back feels like it's burning, pain adding more and more fuzz to the exhaustion grey around his vision. God he can't think he doesn't know how to stop him aaaaaaaah]
[At the last moment, he drops one leg and tries to dig his boot into that original knee injury, hoping that'll discourage him from having to put weight on it. It may be too late though. The plan did not exactly come to him quickly!]
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[He doesn't even try to to stop himself from shouting in pain, as another wave of exhaustion rolling through him. It ends up sounding more like a sob then anything, actually]
[He can't do much else except dig his claws in at the Highblood's collar and his boot in at the knee. His wings start thrashing though, pain nearly knocking him out each time that fucking ripped up joint turns. But at least he might be able to catch the Highblood's arm, make him loosen up a little. Just gotta... keep fighting keep fighting]
[The aesop here is LOWBLOODS ARE STUBBORN DICKS SOMETIMES]
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Yep, that pathetic sound the Summoner makes is more than enough to satisfy the highblood. At least he can hear the exhaustion in the poor thing's voice, so he knows he's close to finishing this.
But damnit those wings again! They kind of get in the way of everything and that annoying throbbing pain in his neck and chest area coupled with the bright red hot pain in his leg is seriously making this difficult. Why do you gotta be such a pain in the ass, lowblood?!! He finally releases the dislocated arm, knowing it'll at least be useless for a while, but offers a swift punch to the side of his face to loosen HIS grip]
Get your disgusting motherfucking fingers off my person, SHITBLOOD. [He manages to cough out.]
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whoops i thought i lost this tag. re-editing!
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