[OPEN] i get the feeling that it's two against one

[deadelfwalking]

Date & Time: Jan 7 - 11
Location: Across the icy wilderness
Characters: Koltira, perhaps you
Summary: Maddened elf seeks large supply of blood, suffering
Warnings: gore; sadistic grossness


[There's something howling in the wilderness lately, and it's distinct from the wolves, from the yeti, from any other predator stalking the area around the city. This sound is a bestial keening, agonized and ragged, echoing and tortured. It's a sound of helpless madness, of uncontrollable rage, and its force lingers in the winter wind. Anyone who follows the howl, whether purposely or by accident, might come across a trail. Initially, they'll find animal corpses killed cleanly, with a single, precise cut. Caribou, at first, partially and purposefully skinned, as though harvested by a mindful hunter.

But the kills become progressively grisly as the trail continues -- mutilated bears, gutted arctic wolves. There's no sense of care in these later kills; the entrails are shredded, wrenched and twisted like wet rags. Blood spatters the snow in random, violent arcs. The animals' bodies are in strangely advanced stages of decay, and their semi-rotted flesh glows faintly green.

Or you may find no trail at all. You may find an animal's foreleg, snapped at each joint. You may find a crushed eyeball, smeared like jelly across the snow.

Or you may find no trace whatsoever. You may simply find someone near you, crouching, his white hair streaked red, his mouth dark and shining and wet. Grinding his teeth. Standing up. Advancing towards you, as the snow hisses, as the earth turns black and dead under his boots.]

Comments

01/07

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan's out hunting again, but it seems like something else got all the game before him. At first he assumes it's some other animal at work, something large, something predatory -- though he thinks it passing strange that it leaves intact corpses -- so he follows the trail out of curiosity; but then his thoughts hearken back to Seviilia on her pile of carcasses, and his pace quickens.

He's not wearing armor. But he did bring his axe along.

It's Sev he expects to see, really; so he's forced to do a little adjusting when he finds Koltira instead. Bariyan stops once Koltira starts advancing towards him and shifts his grip on his axe. He favors Koltira with a mighty frown. ]

Commander?

[deadelfwalking]

[The crusader. Bariyan, in a new skin. Koltira doesn't know what to make of him, even when he's got his reason intact. In his current state, this Bariyan is just an impostor; an irritant. Koltira draws his sword, seething.]

Run away, crusader.

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan does a quick assessment of the situation and comes to a conclusion: Not Good. He blames himself, too; he should have been keeping a better eye on Koltira. His duty, as the lone crusader in this world. ]

You know I can't do that.

[ He plants his feet apart and stays his ground. His skin flushes with Light, but he holds it there. He doesn't want to strike first. ]

I thought you'd take better care of yourself, commander.

[deadelfwalking]

[Please. PLEASE. All of this -- Bariyan's certainty, his jab about discipline, his very Light-soaked presence -- aggravates Koltira like salt in a wound. His mouth twitches.]

You -- are not my keeper. And you -- don't -- know me.

[He drives the sword into the ground, and unholy power flows into the earth, making it churn, turning it a bright, bubbling red.]

[hornedomen]

[Who would do this?

Ico ran his hand over the fallen caribou. This wound was not from an animal. He could understand if it were just one animal, but there were more. The longer he followed the trail, the more deaths he saw. It brought him further into the wilderness than he had gone before; he had to know the cause of this.

The howling made him jump, as if he could feel it through his bones. He could not tell if it was human or beast, yet it was oddly familiar. That familiarity frightened him more. He put away his hunting bow and he drew out his sword and shield. This had to stop. He breathed deeply, once, and then on the second time, he shouted.]

Huueeh!

[deadelfwalking]

[He's not in any state to even understand that call. He just keeps on with his business, cracking open the ribs of his most recent kill -- an arctic wolf, already half-rotted, its eyes melted into its crumbling skull.]

[hornedomen]

[He followed the sounds. What he saw made him feel sick. He could not tell what made him feel worse, this gruesome cruelty or that his friend was responsible for it.]

Koltira, stop!

[He waved his arm, motioning him to get away from whatever was left of the wolf.]

1/07, eveningish

[hyanaimne]

[it's in the midst of her own hunt that Tempest comes across the corpse of an animal. It isn't the first, since she's started hunting out here regularly, but this is the first one she's found, already decaying like it is. Odd; didn't that normally take a few days, at least?

She's about to continue on, though, curiosity at least partially appeased, when she hears the howling - closer than comfortable. Senses what might be causing it a moment later that sends her into a brief panic. Her entire posture goes rigid, her hand falling to the hilt of her sword. She rarely curses what she is, but it's times like these she wishes she was full-blooded something, so that she didn't immediately feel as though she wanted to be ill.

She casts a protection spell on herself - one she's used with Seviilia when she visits her, and that eases most of the immediate discomfort. A deep breath, and she heads in the direction the howl came from. It can only be one of two people that she knows of, and she certainly hopes, at least a little that it's Seviilia. Maybe out on her own, hunting for entertainment and Tempest just so happened upon her by chance.

But her luck is never that good. She calls out, cautiously]

Who's there? Are you alright?

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira is most definitely not all right. He recoils at the sound of her call, and snarls out a response.]

Get away!

[hyanaimne]

[she doesn't need to be told twice, especially when she recognizes the voice. Tempest immediately stops and starts backing up, slowly.

She doesn't call back until she thinks she's a fair distance away]

Do you need me to get someone for you?

01/08 - Why not? Because that went so well the last time XD

[feel_nevermore]

[Raven was hunting, on her own. Though she'd been told repeatedly by her teammates and boyfriend that this was not a good idea. But Raven was a loner by nature and she didn't do fear. ...Also old habits died hard.

When she heard that frightful cry, full of anger and agony, her self-preservation instinct told her to turn away and ignore it. She should have listened to it. Instead she just decided to head toward the source of it. And even the morbid and gory trail she had to follow to get there didn't manage to discourage her.

Blame it on that stupid superhero instinct who already got her into trouble more than once. And to the fact that the aura of this tortured creature felt familiar. Unpleasantly so, but still.]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira's struggling to get hold of himself, but it's not going well. He's in too much pain, enough that he can hardly see what's in front of him for what it is. Instead, he sees only the map of veins beneath skin; tastes only the coppery sweetness of blood. He sags against a tree, driving his clawed gauntlets into the wood; the bark decays almost instantly under his plague-infused touch.

When he senses someone living approach, he doesn't turn. He just growls.]

Go back.

[feel_nevermore]

[Raven lands softly, a few feet away from him. And her eyes widens as she finally recognizes who's standing in front of her.]

...Koltira?

[Last time they met and he was in a similar state, he would have killed her, or at least would have very badly injured her if Lucifer hadn't come to rescue Raven.

She takes a step back at his growl. And for once fear is plainly visible in Raven's eyes. She doesn't do fear but... this seems to be her exception.

Still she can sense his pain, and she knows that if she leaves now, he might hurt someone else.]

I could... take your pain if you'd let me.

1/9

[selfequipped]

[There are times when Kate patrols. She knows that's one way of drawing attention, so she tries to seem as casual as possible about it. The only part about her that stands out is the quiver slung over her shoulders and the bow in her hands. Otherwise, she moves quietly and calmly, almost as if she's hunting.

She isn't, though—at least not traditional prey.

Kate is worried about the UE. She's worried about spies, and barring keeping bugs and tabs on every non-transport individual, trying to ensure people aren't lurking in the woods is a good idea. The yetis are bad enough, and she's actually already fought off one or two.

Today, Kate isn't certain what she's seeing. If it's the result of a yeti, or if it's—something very different. But she sees the blood mere moments before she sees the figure approaching her, as well as the effect he has. Kate is swift as her hand goes to an arrow, swift as she preps it and draws the string back to shoot, aiming not for anything that would inflict a mortal wound. But he's fast, and she's already clambering backwards, so there's a good chance that she (even as a Hawkeye) will miss.]

[deadelfwalking]

[He is fast, but he's also half-crazed, fighting with himself, struggling to stop his own advance. It's because of this internal war that the arrow finds its mark in his shoulder, burying itself in the saronite. The attack quiets the dissenting voice in his head, for the moment, and he stares directly at Kate, his bloodstained teeth bared.]

If you wish to die, I will gladly oblige!

[selfequipped]

[Another arrow is quickly in her hand and she's prepared to shoot again. She's fast, but not superhuman by any extent of the imagination; still, she's been in enough fights where she shouldn't be able to hold her own that her instincts are already prepped for it.

And right now, Kate is assuming the worst.

She doesn't draw before she answers, but the way she positions the arrow close to the bow is almost a warning. Almost. She's prepped.]

Not why I'm out here. [She tilts her head in the direction of some splotches of blood.] So I'll pass. What about you? What do you want?

the eighth.

[therapeutics]

[ julia should have stayed on the moon.

she's used to the cold; new england winters chilled one to the bone, but there's something distinctly different about making one's way through the woods on a night cold enough to get frostbite simply by looking in the wrong direction. hell, she's come close enough to twisting her ankle on three separate patches of ice, and it's enough to make julia want to head back for the space shuttle. a five-hour trip doesn't seem like that much of an issue at all. (but it's lonely up there, which leaves julia little to do, therefore little to complain about. she stays).

it's when the metallic stench of blood cuts through the air that julia finally stops. it stings her throat and makes her gag and she looks down and the bright, bright stains of red contrast against the white of the snow. it's too much, isn't it? too much for a hunter, too much for a clean kill, in too many places to be anything but vicious. ]

Fuck. [ just as eloquently, she kneels down into the snow, scooping up some of the tainted slush with her hand. she looks up from it, into the darkness, standing still. ] Motherfucker.

[deadelfwalking]

[The voice is unfamiliar. Koltira stares at this woman without recognition, his eyes glowing a bright, icy blue. He takes a step towards her, but the movement is jerky, unnatural, as though someone's trying to pull him back with a string.]

You should not be here.

[therapeutics]

[ well, that's sufficiently unsettling. julia's fist clenches, the snow melting in her gloved hand as she takes a step back. ]

What the hell do you think you're doing?! [ it's a stock reaction from her, eyes going wide. apart from her startled movement, she doesn't take note of his words, instead gesturing to the splatter on the ground. ] You know anything about this?!

1/10

[theguideless]

[Koltira's fury is similar to the feeling one gets feverishly remembering something needs to be done, but not remembering what, so more's the unease. the longer Martin stays in that human skin, the more abstract and disconnected the reality behind it becomes.

farther away, it's even harder to understand and easier to project onto other tasks, but out here it's so aimless and worrisome...maybe he's too far away this time? maybe he's gotten himself lost, even though he's followed the same tree line for two hours?

it's probably the bobbing, white shape a half a mile away; Marty's not had very much good luck with animals lately, save for the little sled dog hopping through the snow along with him. but the mood even seems to affect it, too, as it begins whining after some time.

maybe i should go back early... he can always pick through that new book of his, or get in touch with a friend.






polar bears will track prey for miles if they must, steadfast as they are. Martin's at least fortunate to have a companion around with the nose and ears to alert him to danger, but he's not the endurance runner or outdoorsman to outwit a bear. he took off running for trees, hesitating in places, trying to find somewhere to hide or something easy to climb, but everything frozen slick or just shy of his reach makes it a more desperate and futile search.

with the dog barking loudly over the sound of his own heart drumming, Martin keeps up his search, shuffling and stumbling through the snow and trees, not even daring to look over his shoulders anymore.

Koltira, he thinks, no longer of a mind to think of the elf's condition. Where are you?]

[deadelfwalking]

[Even through the haze of pain, Koltira hears the call. He wants to ignore it: he shouldn't be around anyone right now, especially not Martin. But he doesn't miss the desperation; the sense of danger and urgency. He clutches at his medallion, uncertain, and then finally takes off, loping through the woods, his sword already drawn.]

[theguideless]

[once Martin can hear for himself how close the animal's gotten does the panic really spike, the human fear of harm and worse – things he truly has no need to fear, but even so. a mortal body doesn't carry the awareness of the soul, and is ultimately very selfish.

he spies the eyes and nose between trees and chokes on a sound, backtracking and fumbling around hedges to find a foothold, all the while the dog is barking and bounding ahead, then behind him to shoot off threats again. all bluff and fluff, no certainty but a very certainly dead dog should it choose to engage.]

Please, please... [please what? it's just babbling, rasping as he staggers through underbrush and into another clearing – he's not even sure if he's been here before. he spies large rocks and races to them, sliding to his knees at the sight of a hole, fishing and recoiling with dismay, finding it too shallow and small to be of any use.

he snaps his head around at the sound of the dog all but yelping endlessly and the huge shape of the bear calmly breaking through the branches. it's so much bigger and in control of the situation, that Martin feels himself shriveling, shivering, and freezing up. it doesn't even have to put on a scary show, and it seems to know it, only giving the dog the courtesy of an authoritative growl that chills Martin's blood to ice.]

Please...Please, no, I. Please. [he shrinks, back against the rocks as it gets closer, mouth opening and closing and lips curling. blinking back tears, he clamps his hands over his ears to muffle the dog as it carries on, itself cowering away while the bear moves in, halts, and then thrusts itself forward.]

01/11 ROUND 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan's been tracking Koltira since the end of their first fight. He's determined, unshakeable -- and never quite fast enough to catch up. Mostly what he's seen these past few days is a trail of too late; more dead animals, desecrated ground, stamped snow, signs of struggle. Bariyan spends a lot of time chewing on his lip and cursing to himself.

He sees Koltira, too. Occasionally. But he rarely even gets within Light-flinging range before the man lopes off again. And Koltira's faster, and he's tireless, and he's got nice long legs that seem obsessively intent on keeping Bariyan as far away as possible....

But Bariyan presses on. The idea of quitting the chase never occurs to him.

It's near evening of the eleventh now. Bariyan stops walking to inspect a plague-touched corpse lying in a mound of snow, and its entrails, hanging in a tree a few feet away. It's impossible to tell how long ago the animal was killed. Not with the way Koltira's magic works.

On the other hand, there's fresh tracks leading away from the carnage. But the snowfall's kicked up a notch, and they're fast disappearing. Bariyan sighs, shoulders his pack, and starts moving again. He frowns grimly into the distance. If he squints, he thinks he can see a humanoid shadow through the snow. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[It's been days now, days and days of rage and agony and blood. He's had more than a few unpleasant encounters, and he's getting tired. By this point, he's returning to lucidity solely through attrition.

He's kneeling in the snow, hands over his face, his own blood seeping through his fingers. He makes a ragged, whining sound in his throat as he bites his own thumbs, as he forces himself to think, to re-enter some sphere of self-awareness.

It's slow going. But he's getting there, and he's focused on it, and it's why he doesn't quite notice Bariyan's approach this time.]

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan feels like he's approaching an injured animal, here. Slow, careful steps. Silence, because Bariyan doesn't want Koltira to bolt before Bariyan's reached him.

And then Bariyan's there, just a step behind Koltira. Now what? He takes a breath. ]

Commander.

[ Bariyan places a hand on Koltira's back, keeping his touch light. ]