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saedusk rolled 2 6-sided dice:
5, 6
Total: 11 (2-12)
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 Posted: Wed Apr 17, 2013 5:53 am
Aprife had been sure, so sure, that the combination of that blow to the knee and activating his artifacts would be enough to ensure escape. He had been relying on it quite heavily, in fact. Besides the great blunt force the blueblood's weapon had stunned him with, it had done a number on the side of his face with its sharp edges, slicing through skin and essentially blinding one eye as his own blood dripped into it. Trying to wipe it away had only dug it deeper and made it burn worse. If his opponent stayed grounded, maybe he could circle around from the back and it wouldn't matter as much if his vision was impaired... He'd end it that way. Surely. Surely.
"Like hell I can't!" Was the response he chose to shout, though his voice cracked halfway, and it was only moments later that he would find out first hand that no, he really couldn't. At least, that's certainly what it felt like when the whip first snapped his neck back. A startled yell that meant to come out was caught beneath the chain's grip, manifesting instead as a sickly sounding gurgle and a little drool as his mouth gaped. In the beginning he didn't struggle much, the attack had come as a complete shock and left him almost too surprised to fight back. It didn't take long, though, before he dropped his flail and found both hands at his neck, fingers trying desperately to peel away the binding, only for the tips to end up sliced and bleeding. That was when he started struggling.
He started to squirm, to move whatever he could, to kick his legs. The pressure around his neck only seemed to grow tighter, more painful, with each passing second his choked gasps became increasingly severe. The yellowblood tried to drag himself forward with his elbows, but the way they were positioned precariously, headfirst towards the bottom of the hill, caused a rather painful, short slide along the ground of broken glass and twisted metal. He instinctively stopped himself with his hands. Like the blueblood's, his arms were shaking.
It was getting hard to tell whether it still hurt or not, slowly his body started to tingle in that half-numb way. The vision in his one good eye had gone out of focus almost immediately, but now it was blurred worse with tears that streaked down his cheeks in hot lines he could barely feel. Everything felt far away. It would be easy, he told himself in a short, hazy moment of muddied thought, to let go. But...
Aprife simply wasn't the type to give up so easily.
In a final moment of rage and desperation, he forced his arms and legs beneath him and shoved himself up and forward, bucking the spindly blueblood off of his back in one surprising fell swoop. What exactly happened he wasn't sure, everything was too out of focus, his think pan and his eyes alike, to tell. But there was a harsh jerking that pulled his head back down, buckled his elbows, and slammed his face against the debris. The chainwhip dragged up against his neck, but there was some slack suddenly, enough to allow a horrified scream as something sharp dug painfully into his horns. He tried to curl in on himself, but couldn't move.
HP: 4/23
6 damage dealt
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Posted: Wed Apr 17, 2013 12:03 pm
HP: 0/23
“Please stop… P-please stop… I c-c…”
Spraos gibbered. He could feel himself being dragged down the hill with the yellowblood. With any luck, he’d pull the whip tighter and asphyxiate himself, but he couldn’t take any chances. He tried to stop his movement with his heels, but found it too painful. His wounded knee shot liquid pain through his leg – he could hardly feel it. Like the yellowblood under him, Spraos could hardly see. Tears streamed from his burning eyes, his face contorted in revulsion.
An unearthly wail emerged from the pit of his throat. He rocked back and forth as he clung to the yellowblood’s neck, and soon thought the troll nearly dead. But it wasn’t so. Time seemed to stand still as the blueblood felt his arms slip, and his knees jerk forward. The yellowblood launched the troll forward, past his back and over top of his head. He felt his abdomen slice on a horn as he rocketed forward, frozen in shock. His arms unlocked and tangled – he felt the chain snag on the lowblood’s horns—his hands jerked back. He wasn’t holding the handle. He fell to the ground just in front of the yellowblood, twisted backwards to face the troll. His palms were shredded by the resistance of the chain, and in his startled reaction his hands slipped from the weapon, spraying a faint peppering of blue onto both parties.
Everything went downhill from there.
Spraos’s efforts to catch himself on the way down were met with sharp reminders of the broken city. He spun wildly down the hill, his limbs popping into insane angles and back again. His body rolled with uncontrollable force, catching the entire brunt of the damage. After the slow tumble over his adversary’s back, the descent felt like an eternity. The broken doll finally settled at the very bottom of the rubbish heap, his head limply tilted towards the yellowblood above him. Whether or not the troll would survive enough was now not important. Spraos was as good as dead.
He blinked slowly, quivering. His lips parted in a silent scream. There was nothing that he could do. Nothing he could regain or gain control; he’d exhausted everything he had, life force and all. He was at the will of the elements. Perhaps that was the way it should be. Spraos shuddered with a sudden feeling of cold creeping through his toes and up into his ankles.
He willed his gullet to allow speech. After a thick, gurgling wheeze, Spraos began to speak through his tears. His voice was the purest sound throughout the entire encounter— more like himself. He cried out, his thin, soft voice carrying through the settling air.
“W-why did you do this to me?!”
He moaned, repeating the phrase with a haunting reprise. His knees fell to the stifling chill, a reprieve from the shattered grinding of his patella. His thighs.
A shifting mass emerged from near the overpass. It was only a matter of time, of course. A huge, split maw gaped down the center of the great arachnid, its many eyes flitting over the debris. Its pulsating tongue tasted for the blueblood. Shame. Spraos’ eyes bulged. His thin ribcage forced in and out with rapid breaths, and he twisted his spine away in a vague attempt to hide himself. The creature stopped. It crawled expertly in the troll’s direction. Spraos began to scream.
“N-no! Please!”
He didn’t have much time. The frightened and half-dead troll looked up to Aprife – not even sure if his opponent was conscious, he begged with every ounce of his energy, worming his way across the filthy ground with his elbows.
“Please help me! Please! You have to help me!”
He scrambled weakly, but his lusus was soon upon him. Spraos emitted a final screech of distress – a breathy peep. He lurched backwards. The huge scorpion raised its scythe-like tail, the limp, spindly fetish hanging from it swinging hypnotically. An unruly child called for direct measures.
SHHRK.
The strike of the barb landed with deadly precision. Spraos felt the thin needle enter his neck. And then, nothing. His eyes dilated back into a familiar hollow expression, his eyelids drooping. After a moment, the blueblood’s body seized. He inhaled with a choking gasp and shuddered before slipping onto the ground, limp.
The lusus paid the yellowblood no heed. With a swift motion, the beast’s tail wrapped around the injured leg of his charge and heaved it forward without hesitation. The inert blueblood swung grotesquely from the tail, his leg appearing unhinged from its joint. There would be no airy ride for the troll. Turning its maw to the direction that they came, the lusus set back into the distance, dragging the troll behind him. Alas. There would be no sweet victory for the Queen today.
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Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 3:28 am
When the heaving coughs finally stopped, the pain stopped, too. All of it, in a single moment of clarity. Laying face down in the wreckage was a sobering experience. Aprife couldn't remember being beaten this badly before. Everything was still so far away. The din of the blueblood he'd been fighting as he rolled violently down the hill sounded like nothing more than the remnants of a building finally falling to pieces in the distance. It wasn't until, some unknown time later, he heard the question as it drifted through the air with a chilling poignancy.
Why?
Falling back into your own body would be a way to describe it, the sudden return of feeling, the awakening to a pain that was both new and familiar. The yellowblood gasped weakly, eyes squeezing tighter because opening them meant facing reality, and right now Aprife was too exhausted to let this roll right off his back like he did most things. "I don't know..." The revelation was far too quiet to be heard all the way at the bottom of the hill; his voice was failing him. In the beginning, why had been to take the relief's goods for himself and his friends. It had been a game, it was fun. Now, he could barely even remember that had been the reason. When the blueblood's voice never stopped, he finally, reluctantly, opened his eyes.
The effort it took to lift his face from the pile almost wasn't worth it. When he looked around, it was like one of those shaky cameras in low budget films, like someone else was moving his head for him and the eyes he was seeing out of weren't really his. When it became too much, his head would wobble precariously and slump back down towards the ground before he snapped it back up again. The world was swimming, but the stark white contrast of a lusus stood out plainly against the dull grey background of destruction. It was moving closer, towards his fallen opponent. Aprife's thoughts were bitter. He wished his own tiny lusus were here to comfort him, as useless as he'd probably be at it. He was jealous, it was enhanced by his pain... until he heard that screaming.
It was gut wrenching, and Aprife felt his stomach flip as he ducked his head away again. The yellowblood couldn't understand. Why was he calling out for help? Why did it sound so urgent and strained? In that instant, he knew he would have gotten up and heeded the call if his body had moved fast enough. There was no way he could explain why, and in the end it didn't really matter, anyway. By the time he was able to lift even his top half up on his elbows, it was too late. His eyes shot open when the lusus struck with nauseating precision and suddenly his vision was clear. It was obvious from the sickening way the blueblood was thoughtlessly dragged off that the cries for help had been genuine.
The yellowblood let out an anguished cry as he pushed himself up to his knees. Pain wracked through his frame and he shook, but there was something else there, too. When he'd been a child, Bumbs had stung him on accident, and that was the time they learned of Aprife's allergy. He could still remember how horrified his guardian had been, how worried, how much he had buzzed around restlessly until recovery was all but right around the corner. Bumbs would never sting him that way, the way that his opponent had been stung by his own lusus.
He heaved again, but this time lost the meager contents of his stomach to the ground.
Slowly, very slowly and much later, Aprife got to his feet. Most of the damage he'd taken had been around his head and arms and now that he'd caught his breath, he could stand again. Still, his legs wobbled and another stream of tears leaked from his eyes. He was quick to rub them away, wincing in pain when he realized quite belatedly that a piece of broken glass had been embedded in the side of his face. Luckily, it was a shallow wound, because he pulled it out thoughtlessly and tossed it to the ground. It began to bleed, but he didn't care. He seemed to care even less for the chainwhip he finally pulled from around his horns, finding then the stains of blue and yellow and sickening green where they mixed, and letting his arm drop to his side. Yet, he didn't let go of the weapon.
He looked around. He just wanted to go back to his hive, but his feet wouldn't move. Aprife stood there for some time, wringing his hand over the back of the one that held the chain and groaning. "Bumbs... Zeffer... somebody," he mumbled at the ground. Hopefully, if his luck held out past surviving, someone would find him soon.
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Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 10:32 pm
Aprife Invasi has emerged victorious, earning 1 resource point for the looters! When the dust finally settled over the destroyed sectors of New Hemisect City, the looters found themselves victorious, having shown the greatest proficiency in both combat and gathering supplies alike. ----- Please head over to the Relief Station ORP to read the conclusion of our mini meta and find out exactly what prize your troll is taking home for their efforts! For those who have not yet finished their battle rps, they may not have counted towards your team's victory, but we'd like to give anyone interested a chance to finish their battles. To keep your battle open, simply quote the mule here stating you want to continue. Only one player needs to do this. However, if the request isn't made by the end of the day tomorrow (Monday, April 22), the thread will be archived. Thanks for participating!
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