towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters:

dualscars and everyone else.
Setting: The second library, very late at night.
Format: Starting with action brackets, but I'll match.
Summary: Dualscar partakes in an activity that does not involve violence!
Warnings: None, yet.

[those transversing the second library later at night may find the orphaner perusing its shelves, though with little to no apparent criteria for his selections. he looks as he has for the last few weeks: not to his standards of vanity. and with the more recent shenanigans involving nightmarish worlds? a touch on the battered side.

more notable, however, is that with every book deemed unsatisfactory, its chucked unceremoniously to the floor. only, that it isn't: to be thrown into a growing pile of them. one that, in fact, looks like quite a few shelves had gone into its creation. by now, several individuals could sit uncomfortably upon its hard-cover summits.

but if this requires any sort of attention at all, it doesn't show. after all, both holding a book and turning the page with one hand requires more effort than he'd care to admit.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[and still, a brilliant judge of character! because he proceeds to do just that.

there is little warning to it. but she seemed much the same as he remembered-- and for that, he owed her something. petty grudges ahoy! he would feel sorry for her newly acquired debt, and the fact that she evidently had little to do with it, if he were one to often feel empathy. but as it stands...

his sword is drawn, the noise of the metal against metal being one of its very few giveaways as to his next course of action before it's seen. he turns, sword already fully pointed towards her, and then lunges with the intention of piercing her through.]

[Even for all she knew to be wary, the suddenness of Dualscar's attack catches Aradia off-guard. She just about manages to avoid being skewered but the blade catches her arm, tearing the sleeve of her outfit and piercing the skin. She staggers backwards, eyes wide as she heads for what she hopes is the exit, clutching her arm and not daring to take her eyes off of him. She didn't come here to fight and she's not in a hurry to die]

[he snarls as he misses his intended target, though the blade is stained with her vile shade of red, and it proves to further incite his misplaced fury. it is still calm, but his determination intensifies. he sweeps the sword sideways, cutting a rather deep scourge across the side of the bookshelf he'd hit in place of her torso.

unfortunately, due to his caste, he is rather agile. his steps are quick as he advances on her, and he raises the weapon to slash downwards and diagonally toward her.]

[Aradia attempts to get airborne; unfortunately, she mistimes and rises at the exact moment the downward slash comes. The blade slices her shoulder and she drops to her knees, red clothing stained darker by her peasant blood. She risks a glance upwards, her tone resigned but biting behind her attempts to keep the pain in check]

Just so I'm clear. Is there a reason for this other than I'm red-blooded and you can?

[Not that he needs one and not that he needs to supply an answer, and they both know it. But if she has to fall here, she at least wants to know why - especially when it might very well affect the immortality clause of her God Tier status]

[he stands above her now, his sneer revealing all rows of pointed teeth, to glint in the shadowy lighting of the room. and his eyes are filled with contempt (of the platonic kind) and mostly disgust. but there is also satisfaction, eyes narrowing just fractionally as he gazes down at her kneeling form.]

Yes.

[and that is all he will supply. because he feels like it, and that's all the reason he's ever needed to do anything. and because he's not a fan of gauging the consequences of his actions in moments like these, and because she deserved it even less than she normally did-- which was to say, not at all. but it is righteous, and he'd like to think this will make him feel a little better.

he lifts his sword to attempt to stab her through the chest.]

[Just what she'd expected of him and she lets out a quiet growl, rolling to avoid his blow and immediately regretting it as fresh pain seared through her. Still, she fought to ignore it, eyes blazing anger even as she knew this had been possible]

I was rather hoping for something more than that.

[And now, cornered as she is, she catches glimpse of that pile of books he'd been building before. She uses her telekinetic powers to lift a few of them, launching them at the adult troll in the hopes that it will buy her the time and space she needs to flee.

Of course, it might also simply provoke him further, but she's desperate now and that means fighting back even as she knows she's not "supposed" to because screw that, she is done with dying]

[seeing as he only has one arm, all he can do is raise it to guard his head: one of his few unarmored portions. he hisses as few collide, having braced himself for such only marginally; and though the attack doesn't necessarily cause any substantial or lasting damage, it is enough to fully distract him.

and it does provoke him further, but it also gives her her chance at escape.]

[And that's all she needs. She scrambles to her feet, breaking into a staggering run for the staircase and letting her wings carry her down the stairs in the brief spurts she can manage through her injured shoulder]