She didn't exactly want vengeance for herself. That wasn't what this was about.
"Blessing of the Sea!"
Shells appeared on her forearms and she swung one up, taking the brunt of the blow intended for her face, and the force of his blow make her arm shake and the shell shield crack. Undeniably, Leucite was stronger than her, physically.
But she was not helpless - she was not powerless anymore. Not against him, not against anyone. And she was desperate to prove it, if not to him, than to herself.
I want you to feel what I did then.
And a stroke further than that, more desperate, more wild in its subdued voice,
I just want the goddamn nightmares to end.
Rather than his chest, her hand fumbled for his neck, her hips rocking on his. By any means. How many means were there?
Quote:
Super Sailor Scout Attack: Blessing of the Sea Rather than scallops, the shields on her arms form from the shells of pearl oysters. The inside is lined with nacre, the same material that forms pearls, thus making it more durable than the Gift of the Ocean. It will still shatter with two or three intense hits, though it handles smaller hits with much more ease. If used to augment a tackle, the shells will shatter, and the fragments could potentially be harmful to both Amphitrite and her target. Limit one use per battle, period.
Torvil
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 8:57 am
She was not the first to grab Leucite's neck. Nor would she be the last he suspected. He would not allow her to be. He didn't know what she was trying to pull - but he wasn't going to allow her to toy with him. He was going to put her in her place - forcibly if need be.
As he felt her fingers around his neck he let loose and audible growl. Wild, angry eyes looked up at her before finally, he jerked his body up toward her.
One hand moved to grab the wrist of the arm whose fingers were trying to wrap around his neck. This hand roughly gripped and twisted the wrist to try and get her to loosen her grip on him, even as he used his other arm to pull her torso more toward him.
He attempted to angle his body, using all of his strength and size advantage, to allow him to sit upright. His face was a snarl of rage and pain and anger. And his teeth attempted to find any flesh they could get.
If she would not let him go - he would MAKE her let him go.
The funny thing about her hold on his neck was, while she squeezed, it was not as hard as it could have been, was not the extent of damage she could have aspired for - and that was probably, whether he could read into it or not in all his wildness, the greatest indication that the corrupt was not out to end him. As much as she hated him, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, feared him, Amphitrite had no desire to kill an officer, at least by her own hands. She wasn't seeking to snap or suffocate, but subjugate.
Still. In spite of all the distaste for him, it would be a lie to say this wasn't kind of thrilled. The closest she'd come to anything like this had been her time spent with Ice, and he hadn't had that feral look in his eyes, never mind that snarl bubbling up in his throat.
This was Leucite was beyond a cool smirk and passive cruelty? Or his would-be soothing words as he came to pretend as though he were a shepherd, a prophet of the good of the Negaverse, not the man who'd violated her with pain and prying fingers in her very essence - is this what you really are?
Get angry. Get more angry. I will not lose to you again, Leucite. I am more than you.
Her body tensed by reflex as he attempted to wrist her wrist, and it hurt - and reminded her far too much of the dreams where he'd pulled it back until it had snapped. It was the same one, wasn't it? This was the one he'd broken before. The corrupt hissed, twisting, attempting to bat his hand away from her as he rose halfway.
She angled her hips and pushed down, pressing her torso to his - distract, distract and inhibit him - and if he wanted to bite so damn badly - fine. But on her terms. Her fingers in his hair, rather than push him away, she tugged his face towards her neck.
Torvil
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 9:52 am
Leucite knew he had a problem. He'd known it for awhile now. Unfortunately, it was so rare that he was brought to this level of wrathfulness that it mostly went unacknowledged. Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was the taint of the chaos within him, but whatever it was, it turned him into a monster worse than any youma.
At his core, Leucite was a troubled man. There was not a night that went by that he did not sit on his bed Rosary in hand and seek the solace of the Holy Mother. But lately, these words felt flat even to him. No matter how many times he prayed his own nightmares still did not end.
He could still remember the look on the man's face after taking his starseed. The abject horror he'd felt as he'd forced the seed down his throat in order to survive. His shoulder sang with pain at that moment. But it was drowned out by another sound.
Blood roared in his ears. So given into his NEED to survive. His bestial need to exist and destroy that which threatened his continued existence. He should not have accepted this spar. He was going to hurt her.
As she brought his face into her neck, his teeth sank into the flesh where neck met shoulder and bit down as hard as he could, he could feel them breaking skin, he could taste the copper/iron heat against his tongue.
She had invited pain - she could not complain when he broke her more.
She didn't know whether or not she'd expected his teeth to break skin - it bought to mind the image of the dragon youma sinking it teeth into her arm, faded at the edges like an old photograph, real but not.
This was real. Real and vivid and painful, a ragged, pained cry ripped from her throat that seemed almost too loud in the night air over the sound of their struggle.
However. For sounding pained, her entire body rigid in the wake of his bite, Amphitrite did not sound especially distressed. Her fingers worked in his hair, twisting and tugging, closer rather than away.
Pain on her terms. This was still on her terms. She still held the power. She could stop this in a damn heartbeat if she had half a mind to - and she did not. Her other hand swung around, clawing at his back through his shirt.
Torvil
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 10:24 am
The pained cry reached his ears but he was too far gone to care. All he could see was red. All he could hear was the blood in his ears. He could taste the copper and the iron on his tongue and that told him his teeth had found their mark. Jaw clamped down harder, teeth grinding against each other as he attempted to make the wound worse.
He drove a fist upwards toward her side, trying to dislodge her now. Trying to turn the tide of this into his favor. If she was so intent on keeping it to her terms, she was going to have a time of it now. She'd given him access to her. She'd opened herself to him and all he was, was pain.
As he drove the fist upwards into her, he attempted to roll them, attempted to pin her under him with his larger size and larger weight. If she was going to end this, she was going to have to end it soon. Without an anchor. Without someone to bring him out of this moment - he was in full combat mode.
Amphitrite had many times in her career in the Negaverse been able to gauge situations, read people, and react accordingly - had been able to worm her way in and out of precarious situations that should have left her wounded or dead, but hadn't because she was smart, she was strong, and she knew it.
Perhaps when it came to Leucite, she was a little blind - and the situation was now not playing out the way she had expected, the rawness of his aggression seeping into something deeper and more malicious, that stepped over the line hard between sensuality and just pain.
She wouldn't admit to it later, but deep down, the part of her that dreamt of him at night to this day was a little afraid of what might happen if he pinned her down. The fact that there was a part of her like that at all disgusted her, enraged her.
His fist struck her side hard, and she hissed, the pain in the juncture of neck and shoulder becoming overwhelming. In what was as much an act of desperation as it was of control, although later she would only lay claim to one of those motives, the hand on his hand shifted to claw at what she knew to be his wounded shoulder, her other hand leaving his hair if only to try and smack him in the head with the shell on her forearm.
I can still teleport, she reminded herself, almost assuring herself, I am still capable and I can still teleport away.
Torvil
Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 11:32 am
The clawed fingers to the shoulder hurt - but it was a ghost compared to the pain he'd felt in the limb when he'd been wounded. Leucite was wound up tight on adrenaline, the chemical filling his body with a need to fight on. Fight or Flight was very simple with Leucite. The answer was fight.
It was always fight.
The shell to the head however, was a tad more effective, causing him to see stars for a moment. However, much like his youma, all it did was make him fasten his teeth harder on the ravaged flesh between it.
His fist slammed into her side harder. Now he was looking to cause damage. To break her. He would repeat this motion again, and again, and again.
He continued to try and pin her. Never relenting, using all of his weight and strength against her. His other hand moved to grab hair, trying to pull it, trying to tear it from her head in his wrath.
His body was on fire - it hurt - it burned with pain and with the desire to reflect that pain against the one causing it. He was running on adrenaline now. But eventually that would fade - and he would have to relent.
Everything hurt. The fist to her side, unrelenting and constant, hurt. The grinding of his teeth on skin that was already abused and bloodied, it hurt. The fist in her hair, the shift of his body, seeking to pin her's to the ground -
He succeeded. And in that moment, that single moment with the weight of his body on her own, panic flooded her, raw and palpable and nearly blinding. The corrupt's face contorted into a look of horror, not for the first time in his presence. It was too much like the last time, bound to that chair in the darkness.
Abruptly, she flickered out, teleporting away. There she staggered some feet away, clutching at her side and trying to stand taller than she was; trying to seem as though she wasn't afraid.
"Let it be known, " she snarled with every ounce of venom that she had, "That my loyalty is as it ever was to my General-Queen - this is personal, Leucite. And it's not over."
With that, she teleported again, out of sight and to go tend to her wounds, her pride, and the quiet horror of her nightmares given new life.
Torvil
Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 9:42 pm
The lack of a body beneath him sparked further rage from the captain, and snarling, his eyes darted around the roof, trying to seek where his prey had escaped. He would have to figure out a way to prevent that next time.
For surely there would be a next time.
Her words reached him, though if they registered it was hard to tell, Leucite was practically frothing. At her statement, his hackles rose. When she declared this a personal vendetta, well.
... He would just have to do what was required to ensure he and his subordinates were protected then.
Even if it meant... taking things into his own hands.
Something to muse on, he allowed, finally calming down from his rage. Something to focus on for the moment, to worry and chew on.
With that, he teleported himself away to somewhere a bit more... friendly.
