PSL - NSFW, approach with caution

[primordialice]

- If you're looking to make an appointment to speak with the Administrator, please speak with Ms. Marette at the front desk.
- If you're looking to schedule a boxing match with the Administrator, please speak with Mr. Roussimoff in the Pankration Ring.
- If you have a really, really urgent matter that desperately needs the Administrator's attention right now, please find a senior guard and relay your information to them.
- If you have a new tea variety you'd like the Administrator to try, please leave it with Ms. Marette at the front desk or knock to the rhythm of the first movement of Furina's Benevolence and he will be with you shortly.

All other matters are first come, first served.

Comments

[theblacklamb]

Scar takes a claw to the stomach, another wound dripping black ichor, and blocks a bite with one forearm, whirling to shove the wolf towards the whirlwind of fire behind him. "No, I want to fight you!" Bursts of flame explode around the area with no real direction, almost more frustrated than actively attacking.

[primordialice]

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint." He sends a ridge of spikes rocketing up through the ground toward Scar, still unmoving from his spot at the centre of the room. Scar has to earn four more steps, after all. Brighella is having fun with how much this game seems to be frustrating his junior - he's getting sloppy, he can tell. "Come on! Come get me! Four more steps, Mezzo!"

[theblacklamb]

Scar ignores the spikes entirely, letting them shred his leg muscle as he drops to all fours and charges at Brighella with a roar, slamming into him with the force of a runaway train. Using the size difference against him was what got him the first step, so that's the clear route for more.

[primordialice]

Yep, that's sloppy. Of course, being smug gets him slammed into, earning Scar another two steps as Wriothesley has to shift backward and brace himself, throwing a fist and two spears of ice into Scar's belly. "Almost... there." He laughs softly. "Think you can hold yourself together long enough?"

[theblacklamb]

Scar wraps one huge hand around Brighella's chest, the other around one of his arms, and rips. "Punch me now, Brigi!" He's panting, now, the spear through his stomach bad enough for him to notice through his frustration. He clubs the other man over the head with his own arm.

[primordialice]

That amount of pain is enough for Wriothesley to lose focus for a second, his stance weakening as he hisses through his teeth, pupils dilating wide. "That's it, Mezzo..." The ragged edge to his voice could be pain - but there might be something else there too.

The torn off arm definitely has blood and bone in it, but he doesn't bleed much - and as he stumbles back another step, a shining blue and purple growth of water almost like a tentacle flows out from the stump of his shoulder, taking only a moment to form hand and fingers and solidify into flesh - though now bare of both sleeve and gauntlet.

[theblacklamb]

"What happens if I take your head, Brigi?" Scar asks, voice echoing discordantly. "Can I save up a pile of pieces of you and you'll just keep making more?" He rips a bite out of the exposed muscle of the arm he's holding before dropping it to the ground and wrapping the hand around Brighella's throat. "Four!"

[primordialice]

Wriothesley chuckles like Scar's just told a joke, his eyes just growing darker as Scar takes a bite of him, very literally. His voice is strained from the squeeze of Scar's hand, but it still holds a great deal of confidence. "You know, nobody's ever had the guts to cut my head off." And it's a little hard to do on his own. Judging from other experiments, though, he's sure it would grow back. He's not sure it matters what gets removed anymore. It'll all come back.

"Four..." He licks his lips. "You got what it takes for one more?"

[theblacklamb]

"Let's find out together!" Scar laughs, wild and echoing, and rips his arms apart, holding Brighella's body up in front of him in one hand and his head in the other, watching. Which one will he grow back from? The larger piece, or his brain?

[primordialice]

It takes a moment, but then there's a spiral of primordial water that blossoms out of the severed neck of Wriothesley's body, forming just as rapidly as his arm into a new head. He's already laughing by the time it solidifies, grinning up at Scar. "Did you satisfy your curiosity, Eleventh?"

[theblacklamb]

“I want to mince you and burn the pieces,” Scar growls, hunger in his voice. “I want to burn you till your waters boil.” He drops the bodiless head to the ground and pushes Brighella backwards, forcing his legs to skid across the ground. “Five!”

[primordialice]

"Oh, feel free to try." Wriothesley grunts as he's pushed, then laughs. "Five it is. Good boy, let's have some fun."

A massive crystal of primordial ice shoots up around him, forcing Scar's hand away. There's a shifting form inside it - but not for long, as a huge three-headed wolf bursts of it, the shards all flying toward Scar as the black and grey beast approaches.

[theblacklamb]

Scar growls low in his chest when Brighella calls him good. He doesn’t have long to focus on it, though, as the ice forces his grip away, and then he’s whirling fire around him to block the shards of ice, eyes lighting up in interest at the wolf that isn’t made of ice this time. “Is that you, Brigi? Have you decided to play with me properly now?”

[primordialice]

The wolf pants with one mouth and snarls with the other two as it drops into what is almost a play bow before it lunges with no other warning, aiming for Scar's throat with the central mouth and his arms with the other, aiming to bite and debilitate but not actually rip off (he knows most people don't grow theirs back as easily as he does). His breath is icy cold and so are his claws as he tries to rip into him.

[theblacklamb]

Scar slashes his legs against the wolf’s stomach, slicing it open with his hooves, and laughs. Fire rises from his skin, licking at the mouths of the wolf, chasing back their chill with searing heat.

[primordialice]

The wolf heals as quickly as Wriothesley does, though the flashes of light are less visible from under the fur. He chases his advantage, continuing to bite and claw relentlessly - the truth is that he can't sustain a form this large for long, so he needs to end this fast before it exhausts itself. Though he still focuses on injury rather than killing, he is trying to hurt him as much as possible.

[theblacklamb]

Scar isn’t used to fighting things as big as he is, especially not ones that heal themselves, and he’s steadily starting to flag from the accumulated injuries. He doesn’t stop struggling, though, clawing and kicking at the wolf on top of him despite the obvious futility of it, until his injuries seem to reach a tipping point. With a discordant screech, he shrinks into himself, until he is human shaped and human sized again, lying on the floor with an arm bent the wrong way, bloody and laughing.

[primordialice]

Wriothesley stops himself short of one more bite as Scar shifts back to his human form and licks his face before shifting back to his own adult shape. He's breathing hard, sweat staining the remnants of his clothing, but that's the only visible sign of injury on him. He stays where he is on top of Scar, one hand on his chest. "You... you need practice." He has a lot to say about how Scar fights, but that can wait for a bit. "Good enough for you?"

[theblacklamb]

Scar grins up at him, an incongruously light expression of genuine happiness. “Absolutely worth a week of good behavior. You’re fun, Brigi.”

He may not be able to hurt the man in any lasting way, but Brighella still looks wrecked, with his clothes shredded and drenched in sweat. It looks very good on him.

[primordialice]

"Glad you enjoyed it, Mezzo." He's still a little light-headed - hah - from the adrenaline rush of being decapitated, which is definitely why he's not standing up yet. Not because he's enjoying the way Mezzetino looks like this, ecstatic and broken. "You want me to set that arm for you?" It'll hurt even more, but oh, he bets Scar would look like an angel while it does.

[theblacklamb]

“Oh, yes.” He’s sure Brighella won’t be all delicate about it. “Hard to do one-handed.” He rakes his eyes over the other man, taking in the rents in his clothes from where his claws found purchase for a moment. There’s a lot more skin on display than he’s ever seen from the Tenth before.

[primordialice]

"How fast do you heal?" He hadn't noticed any particularly rapid healing during the fight, which means it's slower than Wriothesley's... but so is pretty much everyone. He just wants to know if Scar will need a sling or if he'll be good to go once the bones are back in their places. He takes off his jacket to prepare for a sling if needed - if Scar wants to keep looking, he's more than welcome. His shirt is soaked with sweat, the remains clinging to his body.

[theblacklamb]

Scar shrugs, the movement pulling a sharp inhale when it jars the broken arm. “Fast enough. Once my Abyssal energy regenerates I’ll be fine.” He grins slyly up at Brighella. “Never been used up by just one person before.” The view of the shredded shirt clinging to the other man’s skin with sweat is very welcome. “You’re so pretty, Brigi. Glow so pretty…”

[primordialice]

"Perfect." He chuckles, patting Scar's cheek lightly. "You're not so bad yourself, Mezzo. Such pretty eyes..." Sure, he'd tried to stab them out with icicles, but that was the game, after all. "All right, let's see about this arm."

He slides off Mezzetino - somewhat reluctantly - to move over to the side with the bad arm, prodding along its length to see where the break is. He's not very gentle - after all, Scar's just lovely when he's hurting.

[theblacklamb]

Scar’s breath comes harshly with the jolts of pain as Brighella prods at his arm, his pupils blown wide. “Don’t be shy, Brigi,” he pants. The loss of the other man’s weight on top of him is a pity. “I’m at your mercy now, after all.”