[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

[hyanaimne]

[Hell, but that would be her luck. She's fast, but between the snow and Koltira's own speed she knows there's no way she'll escape by running alone - she can hear him closing in, and her heart pounds against her chest.

But she has no idea what to do, other than toss up useless spells to try to slow him down. And that's what she does - slows down enough that she can shout the words to her most powerful shield, conjuring it right in Koltira's way]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira slams up against it, and it does daze him for a moment -- but it's magic, and therefore edible. He presses both palms against the shield and consumes it, his eyes flaring as he does so.

Then, he turns towards Tempest, throwing out his palm. Rime-coated steel chains erupt from the ground, intending to lash themselves around Tempest's wrists and ankles. To keep her in place.]

There is no escaping me.

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest can't help the pained noise when the chains close around her wrists and ankles, stopping her in place. Even with her spell up she can feel it burning her already, through the material of her jacket and shirts. She jerks on one of the chains, as hard as she can]

Then why bother telling me to run?

[deadelfwalking]

[Not a shred of give. Koltira approaches slowly.]

Because I wanted you to try.

[hyanaimne]

Quite rude of you.

[she tugs again, then stops with a curse] You can let me go, now.

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira kneels down beside her, his expression agonized, miserable. He's smiling, but it's a horrible, unpleasant expression, like watching an animal try to be human. He laughs brokenly as he reaches to press a sharp nail against her cheek, and whispers.]

I want to. But I can't. I can't.

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest winces, both at the laugh and the nail against her cheek and tries to jerk her head away. She bites back her first instinct to snap out a smartass retort, but that would get her killed. And oddly enough, she's a bit against that nowadays]

Yes you can. [she doesn't look away from him; she's scared, but she won't show it] Do you need help? I will find it for you if you let me go.

[deadelfwalking]

[Thing is, Tempest doesn't need to show it. Koltira can hear it in the rapid pace of her heart, can sense it like air pressure. He wraps a hand around Tempest's throat.]

You can help me.

[hyanaimne]

[he'll feel her swallow hard, then, trying to tilt her head back away from his hand. She yanks on the chains again, hard, then tries to twist one of her hands around so her palm faces in his direction. If she could get a spell casted . . . ]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira covers her palm with his; meanwhile, his other hand tightens its grip. He can feel her pulse fluttering beneath his fingers, and it's driving him crazy. He looks away from her, exhaling hard, trembling violently. He doesn't know this woman. She has done no harm to him.

But her pulse is so, so quick.]

Be--still. Be still. For a moment.

[hyanaimne]

[she hesitates for a moment; he has his hand around her neck and he wants her to be still? Every part of her wants to fight it, to struggle against the chains, to try to get free or get him off of her somehow, but -

She takes a deep, shaky breath as his hand tightens and goes as still as she can, shutting her eyes]

[deadelfwalking]

[He'd like to tear her throat out, to lap up the wound, to break every fragile bone in her hand. She's warm and vital and, to him, her body is like rice paper, made to be torn.

His fingers close around her throat like a cage, powerfully enough to choke off her air supply for a few seconds. Enough to leave a mark. But then he lets go -- shoves her away. Stumbles back onto his haunches.

He clutches his face, moaning in pain.]

I'm sorry -- please -- please --

[miscreant]

[In that moment, an identical collection of the chains binding Tempest snap up from the ground around Koltira, taking advantage of his hunching in an attempt to pin him to the ground. Its unclear at which point Seviilia arrived, but the snow around her is frozen to a solid path of ice in a long winding trail behind her, and her muscles are tense in expectation. Her axes are drawn.

Her expression wafts between something resembling anger and resignation. This was her fault.

Her eyes slide to Tempest briefly -- she is all business. The spell will not hold Koltira for long (if at all) and she is not armored.]

The spell is frost. Melt it. Run.

[She would follow after she did her duty here.]

[hyanaimne]

[the chill of the air makes every breath she gasps in hurt, but as soon as Seviilia's words register she's moving, pulling hard at the chains, once, before she twists her hand enough to cast a fire spell.

Her eyes dart briefly over to where she in and Koltira are, before he focus returns to burning the chains - as soon as she has one free she's twisting onto her side to work on freeing her other wrist]

[deadelfwalking]

[HOW DARE YOU. Koltira glowers up at Seviilia, his distress melting back to rage. He tears through the chains in short order, but it's not an immediate process -- there is a little time to run.]

[miscreant]

[She doesn't run far -- she knows enough that if she dances too far out of range, he will simply turn in favor of the living target. Seviilia forces a slight smirk to goad him, not bothering to refresh the spell just yet. She is certain he won't be able to tell the difference.

Sun help her.]

Oh how the tables have turned, Koltira.

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest makes quick work of the last chain on her wrist, then moves to her feet—and this time she keeps her eyes on them, until she feels the the burn of the spell fade from her ankles. Then she's scrambling to her feet, hesitating only for a moment before she takes off running.

Anyone else, she would have stayed. But not when it's two of these elves who could kill her by being too near her for too long alone]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira watches Tempest go, just for a moment, before he sneers back at Seviilia. He's still got one hand on the side of his face, nails dug in deep, bleeding down the side of his forehead, but one truth remains.]

No, Seviilia. They have not.

[He doubles over, hissing at the ground.]

Because I let them go.

[miscreant]

[Seviilia scowls deeply at that, a dark expression that she fights not to turn to a sneer. Her duty here would have been to kill him -- to free him from the frenzy that had taken hold, so he could return with a clear head.

But no. If he would boast on his restraint, then fine. He could stand to resist further on his own.

The chains reappeared, but with them came the burn of spiteful fever. Do not speak to her of dragon's fire restraint.]

But you cannot let them go forever, no matter how much better you think you are.

[Let him howl by his lonesome then. Seviilia does not care for wayward travelers. She takes a few steps backwards before bolting off after Tempest, using her path of frost to quicken her journey.

Suffer well.]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest runs as far as she can get before she has to stop to catch her breath, hiding behind a tree. She leans around it to make sure Koltira isn't following, hand to her chest as she wheezes a bit and her face twisted into an annoyed scowl.

As Sev starts to catch up is when Tempest finally takes off running again, albeit with a bit more stumbling as the adrenaline starts to wear off]

[miscreant]

[And that is about the point Seviilia will appear over the snow on her track. She does not mince words nor give warning, but instead scoops up Tempest a bit unceremoniously and races away before someone or something else spots them.]