'TIL DEATH DO US PART
07-17-2013, 10:33 PM
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jupiter illidais
As he surged upwards, she lowered her dial to cock her head upwards, jaws relaxing, only to come back up and land upon the planes of his throat, shifting a little more to her right to try and get his jaws away from her neck. His own target was unknown to her until the very moment her jaws clenched around the target she had sought for so long, pain rippling from an upper point upon her scruff as her jaws sunk into vital tissue, blood seeping forth to well in her mouth, delicious copper flooding her tongue, her own pain forgotten as she knew that this was the end. He could do whatever he wished in his dying breaths, but none would be enough to kill her. Even as his claws grazed over the worsening wound upon her right side, drawing blood to its highly-irritated surface, it was easy to forget in the face of ending the life of the one she had hated for so long. She folded her left front leg upon him and used it as a whole to keep her paw grip from slipping, wrenching his head away from her bodice and on a descent towards the ground. Without pause or hesitation she ripped backwards, sliding both of her paws to the damp earth, the snow melted or shoved aside with their scuffle, whole body backpedaling as she set her weight behind her, jerking with every ounce of strength in her body to free him of a vital portion of his throat. Blood spewed forth without restraint and with cascading viscosity, liberally soaking her paws before they could be withdrawn, his own blood mingling with the red that had dribbled down her limbs from her shoulders. Tail flagged and she put herself immediately out of reach, chest heaving with adrenaline-accelerated breath, heart pounding in her chest as it reveled that fact that his would soon no longer do the same. He had a minute. Less, maybe, with the blood he had already lost. She hoped that he experienced insurmountable pain before he lost consciousness, wishing him the worst in the afterlife. Tongue cleaned her obsidian lips as stood, hackles still raised and muscles still tensed should he (or anyone else for that matter), by some miracle, move the several feet she had put between them. The woman could almost pity him for the ripped tendon, but, oh, sarcastic woe, she could not. For he deserved much worse in her mind. Celestial optics drifted about in a spiteful glare, daring her audience to do anything about her actions. From what she could see, it appeared as if--her Medusa--had also been triumphant in her ambitious endeavors, having departed from the battlefield without the queen's notice and leaving distressed Newt spawn in her wake. She was aware of the voice of Luana, but the desperate tones were lost in a thick haze as she set her hungry gaze back upon her bleeding and dying opponent, ears pinned and tail raised in a banner of victory and triumph. The chill scored her wounds but could not harden her heart further as she planned to watch him bleed. She hoped he would attempt to speak so she could hear him gurgle as the blood he had sought many, many times before drowned him. How ironic that his end would come by the liquid he had probably found so arousing once before if his comments were any indication. "Go on. Preach of your Satan, of your afterlife where you haunt me," she snarled ruthlessly, the words ripping from her larynx, low and saved only for his ears as she took a single threatening step forward. "Because you'll do none of that. You will rot in the ground," she rumbled, once more only for his ears. Should he manage speech, it would fall upon deaf ears--she only sought the warped sounds of air bubbling through blood, stifled under the red that so freely poured. Never once before her fights for Ludicael had she thought of killing another. Scheming to overthrow their power, yes, but to kill another? It had crossed her mind only to be faced by vehemence and disgust at the idea. And yet her she was, waiting for her prey to bleed out and stain the snow red. She would give them his body. Yes, she would let them do what they wished, for she had no desire to look upon his wrecked, scarred face any longer. The fiery queen pondered over the possibility of slitting the veins on his wrists before she left, but spared him even that. Mercury came to her side and, as always, came upon his back legs to try and tend to her wounds. She chanced a lick upon his forehead and then turned from the battlefield--sore, but very much alive. ? 805 words ? [ o o c ; ] Thanks to the judges for judging and such~ And thanks to Ais for the fight. Sorry to leave so quickly, but I really just want to be out of this thread. |
prone to violent reaction. ic actions have ic consequences and she lives and breathes it.public enemy #1
crawl. crawl more. drag your hands and knees across the destruction left in my wake to the ends of the earth. there's a green light of a shining star in my sky and there will not be an obstacle i will not overcome until i cup that star in my palms. the void in my will has been filled with purpose. so crawl. crawl more, love.
because i like it when you're on your knees.