towerofanimus | i have killed many angels

Characters: The Grand Highblood + anyone

Setting: He's starting at the cafeteria exit and is slowly making his way back to his room, or....?

Format: Any

Summary: The GHB got into a particularly nasty fight with the Summoner, but dragged himself out of the room once he assumed the Summoner fell unconscious. He's wounded all over by deep scratches, particularly to his collar bone and throat area where he was bitten and clawed, respectively. There's also a long gash on his side, and a messy stab wound on one of his legs as well, so he's limping slightly.

Warnings: The Grand Highblood. Description of blood and whatnot.

The Grand Highblood wasn't 100% sure where he was going. There was that shoddy excuse of a respiteblock, which was his current destination, but it would take him a while in this state. In all honesty, he felt like shit. It's been a long motherfucking time since he's felt this tired and out of sorts.

With each step, he felt a stab of pain shoot up his injured leg and he was using the wall as a crutch. A truly pathetic sight for the oh-so-Grand-Highblood, a fleeting thought in his mind that made him scoff. He was trailing lots of blood, and he was a little worried that he might attract unwanted attention.....

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Yeah, true...Orphaner probably watched a shit ton of movies, he thought with an amused smirk. Fin-face was so uptight he probably did some dumbass shit to unwind. He didn't really want to think of what the Condesce did in her spare time, though the thought of her watching movies at all made him want to laugh.

"Never had no interests in any kind of motherfucking movies, brother," he said with a sort of half-shrug.

"You haven't even given them a fucking chance!" Signless exclaimed, scrubbing a little harder than necessary at the drying blood around the wound. "I ought to show you some of the ones I brought with me, before you make that kind of stupid ass pre-judging decision."

"Ease the fuck up on the motherfucking scrubbing, motherfucker," The highblood said, narrowing his eyes a little. "I ain't down for that noise. It's gotta be some quality holy hell-raising shit to be even on this long list of motherfucking things I might consider."

"Sorry," Signless said, only now realizing he was scrubbing a bit hard. He eased up and wiped more gently, cautious around the edges of the wound as he mopped up the blood.

"Well, I've got some quality, hell-raising shit, even if you don't think it's holy." He frowned. "Actually, I think I've got one that features a Subjugglator and a brown-blood, if you're interested. It's red, though."

The highblood grimaced terribly at the description. It reminded him of himself and the cheeky Summoner. He was a subjugglator, and the Summoner was a brownblood. The fact that they were most definitely not red for each other only made his face twist more. If anything, they were closer to a caliginous relationship.

"No motherfucking go, man," he muttered in disgust. "Can't see myself getting all immersed in a motherfucking red story about the high subjugglators being involved with sludgebloods. Who the motherfuck would watch that? Motherfucking lowbloods, maybe, getting their fantasies on about mixing with the highest class..."

He was rambling now, the mixture of fatigue and comfort starting wear his coherence thin.

"Probably," Signless said wryly.

Why wouldn't a lowblood fantasize about a relationship with a highblood, where they had a chance of being raised up from squalor, protected from culling or slavery? The Grand Highblood thought it was something weak, perhaps - a reflection of highbloods being better than lowbloods - but it wasn't about that.

He reached for more of the tape stuff, a thicker bandage to hold the gash closed. "I'll pick something I think you'll like, and we'll have a proper, friendly, movie marathon. How does that sound? If you don't mind hanging around with some sludgebloods while we watch..."

He scoffed. The idea would've usually resulted in a lot more resistance, but he couldn't find the energy to do so in his usually robust manner. Watching a movie sounded stupid. Watching a movie with the Signless sounded even stupider. Yet, he nodded. If there was one thing he could get out of this, it would be that he could finally admit that he has indeed watched movies. Who knows, maybe it would turn out to be a funny experience.

He wasn't sure how he felt about other peasant bloods being there too, though. The Signless would have to catch him in a particularly good mood.

Signless pressed a large bandage to the wound on the Highblood's side, then began going over the rest of his torso for anything he might have missed. "Come on," he said. "It'll be fun. Don't be a downer."

He grabbed a blanket and dropped it over the big troll. "Rest here for a couple of hours, then you can head back to your respite block."

The highblood didn't see himself as much of a downer (though this is coming from a guy who thinks smashing things is a great way to pass time), so he could not refuse now.

He stared at the blanket as the Signless draped it over him. Oh man, more weird human sleeping rituals. Well, at least this one wasn't so bad. Without so much as a 'thank you', he closed his eyes, feeling a whole lot better physically. Sure, his wounds have been patched up, but now he had more troubling thoughts about the Signless in his thinkpan as he laid there.

The Grand Highblood wasn't the only one with troubling thoughts. Signless watched him for a few moments, then turned away and slid the curtain around the sleeping rectangle, cutting off the sight of the massive troll from the rest of the infirmary.

He wasn't sure that watching movies with the Highblood was going to be much fun at all. In fact, there was every chance that he'd just wind up culling everyone who showed up, whether or not that was his actual intention from the beginning.

But, stupid or not, he had to try to reach out to the highbloods in the tower. If he couldn't get them to see how they were being fucked over by their society just as much as the lowbloods were, nothing could ever change. And before he could get them to see, he had to open their minds to what he had to say.

Disquieted, he walked to the sinks to wash the indigo blood off his hands.

i have killed many angels

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