not interested in deep conversations

[highbloods.livejournal.com]

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?

Comments

[highbloods.livejournal.com]

[A little miffed by the fact that his punches are doing little to nothing, he tries to think of a better tacti-- oh ok, too late, there are fingers around his throat now. Fingers that have sharp ends. Shit ok what do--

He does a drastic move, surprised at himself that it's come to this, and he reaches both arms around the Summoner into what seems like a bear hug, but this is far farrrr from a friendly embrace. His own claws are out and he digs them into the Summoner's back, slowly kneading the soft flesh near the base of the wings with sharp nails in hopes of drawing out the pain in an agonizingly slow manner. He always felt that dishing out quick and frantic hits only worked so well for so long, and that slow, torturous ways were so much more painful.]

[cabecilla.livejournal.com]

[AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH FUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKK]

[His response is immediate, hand tightening around the Highblood's throat, claws digging in, and... well this is probably really dumb. There's just as much a chance he knocks himself out as stops the pain, but he just don't give a shit no more]

[Bro, you're headbutted as hard as he possibly can. Which is pretty damn hard when his wings are on the line!!!]

[highbloods.livejournal.com]

[The highblood chokes, spitting up indigo blood as the nails in his neck digs deep into and past the thin skin. This would've been fine the way it was, he really thought so, but once the Summoner rears his head back to motherfucking headbutt him, he can't really think straight and his hands fall away from the wings. Sure, he's still conscious -- barely -- but now with the more immediate threat of having his throat ripped to shreds, his hands clamp around the Summoner's wrist and twists, hoping to snap it.]

[cabecilla.livejournal.com]

[Hey]

[Hey Highblood]

[You know that smile? That you give to your victims? The really awful one, when you're really enjoying yourself? The one people are afraid of?]

[That's the exact smile the Summoner is giving you when he sees all that purple blood spilling out your mouth 8>]

[And it even stays there, after his wrist gets twisted and he has to let go so it doesn't snap, a pained wheeze escaping between his teeth. His mind spins for a second about what to do, and... welp, since his other arm got fucked up and there isn't any other way he can think of to make the Highblood let go... he's gonna just... take a bite out of his arm!]

[ARE YOU HAPPY YOU GOT INTO THIS FIGHT NOW???]

[highbloods.livejournal.com]

[It's quite chilling to say the least, yes, but hey. He's not afraid. It's been a long time since anyone gave him such a good time. Or a lot of trouble. Either one works. Even if he's not returning the grin at the moment, he finds the expression to be very exciting.

He lets out a pained groan when his arm is bitten, but retaliates with another hit to his face. Since the Summoner has little use of his arms, there isn't much holding him down, and the highblood tries to rise from his lying position on the floor to a sitting one. Sure, it's kinda awkward with some dude latched onto your arm by their teeth, but his plan is to try and switch their places again by slamming the lowblood into the ground.]

[cabecilla.livejournal.com]

[welp... this time the punch does its thing and he lets go. Or... well, he doesn't really let go, but his mouth goes slack against the Highblood's arm anyway. Given the size of his teeth though, they're probably still stuck in whatever holes he managed to make...]

[Actually his whole body goes kind of slack all of a sudden, just kinda... leaning against dis arm here, going all peaceful and silent. There is something numb and resigned waking up in his chest. He's okay with whatever happens now. If he dies, at least he knows he gave the Highblood hell. At least he knows he'll probably have a bit of trouble screaming with his throat half ripped out. HEH, that's actually pretty funny when he thinks on it]

[But then the other troll is shifting again, and while he doesn't brace himself for whatever the plan is, he is more or less aware of what's happening by the movement of his limbs if not by sight. His feet touch the ground as the Highblood sits up and... he still doesn't move, not for what feels like a long pain filled moment]

[And then, with one (probably) last rather monumental rush of adrenalin and strength, he rolls onto his feet, pulling the Highblood's hand still latched to his wrist with him and... kicks him in the chest. He's aiming for somewhere around the Highblood's throat or the aggravated marks on his collar where he'd hung on so long]

[But god knows he's tired enough, he almost doesn't care if he hits his mark. And regardless what happens, his legs give out immediately afterwards, toppling him back to the floor. He's just... so tired, you know?]

whoops i thought i lost this tag. re-editing!

[highbloods.livejournal.com]

[The Grand Highblood barely had time to register the lack of resistance in his arm. His gaze shot downward at the still and silent troll, and should've felt triumph, but there is no such feelings. Instrad, he just felt irritated and tired, his energy depleted so badly by a mere lowblood. Even killing Orphaner hadn't been this difficult, though that was probably because the sea dweller hadn't seen it coming.

Speaking of which...

Jesus Christ. The highblood's eyes widen just a fraction at the sudden movement from the nearly unconscious troll and makes a last second attempt to brace himself for the blow. There's a bit of pressure against his chest when it connects, and had he not been injured so badly, it would've felt like nothing, but the wounds caused him to hack and wheeze in pain.

He raises a hand to strike again, but the Summoner had already crumpled to the ground. Suddenly, he finds little motivation to finish him and without a sound, the highblood picks himself off the floor, not even caring if the Summoner decided to give chase. Slowly, he lumbers out the door leaving a bloody trail. The last thing he wants is to be sleeping within the close vicinity of another troll.]

[cabecilla.livejournal.com]

[He thinks about it! About chasing him. He thinks about it really damn hard. If thoughts could become solid, there would be a brick wall of CHASE hurtling after the Highblood. Because if he's retreating, that must mean he's really hurt, right? It'd be so so easy to finish him off... So easy...]

[...]

[...nnnnnnope. No way. There's no way he can make himself get up again. He's lucky he's even conscious enough to watch the Highblood's back, much less try to follow him]

[So he just... lays there and drifts in and out. Eventually, his hand starts going numb and he forces himself to sit up against one of the broken tables. It takes a couple tries but eventually he snaps his shoulder back into place. That final burst of pain twists his stomach, makes him want to puke, but instead he just... laughs]

[HE'S STILL ALIVE. It's a sudden revelation around the cotton in his head, and he decides right then and there that it is literally the best thought he has ever had. He is basically doing this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR44oOYjvOw) as he finally gives up, and slams into unconsciousness. Good night, Highblood. Until next time!!!]