epidemiology | the danger is i'm dangerous

Entry tags:

the danger is i'm dangerous

CHARACTERS: Koltira et al

DATE: Jan 27 - onwards

WARNINGS: violence; blood; general gross (dead things and decaying things etc)

SUMMARY: Blood frenzy.

GENERAL PROMPT: THE OUTSKIRTS, NEAR THE WOODS;

[It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts--

It's his only sensible thought, a continuous scream in his mind that never quiets; never stops. He just wants to stop. The pain, the noise, the press of life and energy and movement that surrounds him. His own body. He'd give anything for exhaustion. For sleep. But a death knight was not designed to yield. No matter the depth of his injuries, no matter the blood smeared on his face and armor and across the long curtain of his bone-white hair, he does not fall. No matter the cracks in his armor, his split lip, his wounds. He is relentless, because he has no other choice.

Koltira staggers among the fields that border the woodlands; they are silent, and largely abandoned.

Eventually, he presses into the woods, thinking--thinking nothing, still, really. His mind is static and incoherent whispers and begging. Animals cross his path: a rabbit dances away from him, but a deer is not so quick. He lets Byfrost linger in its belly for too long, watches the corpse rapidly decay into so much meat and slime.

He leans against an oak, and plague seeps from his fingers, steals past the bark and down to the root. The wood begins to hiss and melt beneath his palm.]

[ooc: individual starters are below! the above is a general prompt for encounters in the woods or the outskirts. if you would prefer something else, or even a thread set AFTER this whole mess, let me know. you can grab me on plurk at

runehallow.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Where is he? He can't say. He's stumbled past houses; fields; temples. The population thins as he keeps running, and that's a good thing, that's his goal. But the pain does not abate. If anything, the abortive encounters of the past few days have left him in an even worse state than before, a place of half-satisfaction that demands much more than it received.

Koltira does not tire, but he does weaken. He kneels down in short grass, at the edge of an abandoned field, not far from the dark treeline of the woods. He heaves, and covers his face with his hands. Hands already dark with blood, both familiar and foreign. He rakes his nails in the soil and he screams.]

[ Well, it had been a pretty nice evening. Ramir likes nature, sometimes. Big, quiet fields like this always make her think of Earth, and some pretty good memories got made there. So she'd been out at a meandering walk, attention split between what's around her and the network via bracelet.

But then comes that scream, and, well, no evening's gonna be too great when it's got a scream like that in it. Ramir's eyes go a little wide and she stares in the direction it had come from. She's sorely tempted to head in the exact opposite direction with the battlecry of not my problem, but... curiosity wins out. Morbid curiosity, in this case.

It isn't long before Koltira comes into sight, and that awful kneel he's in makes abandoning the scene impossible. Dammit, it's someone she likes. Her pace quickens as she heads toward him, and she's already trying to figure out what the hell's wrong with him, what happened. ]

Koltira! Hey, what the fuck! [ He's a pretty far cry right now from the guy she'd been macking on earlier, and it's pretty unsettling. ] What happened?

[Someone's here. Someone's talking. Their voice tugs at Koltira; the words are mush, incomprehensible, but he can grasp at the emotion. Confusion; distress. Things he can work with. A fissure, ripe for a knife.

He stares up at Ramir, his eyes dim and half-lidded, his mouth twisted in a grimace. His teeth are stained black with blood. He looks at her as though he doesn't recognize her, as though she's an intruder. Staggering to his feet, he takes one halting step towards her, then another. His movements sharpen with each step, as though her presence gives him focus. Purpose.

He draws his sword.]

[ At first it seemed like a good thing, him being alive enough to stand himself up. But looking at his face, she's really second guessing that judgment. He looks awful. He looked admittedly a little deadish earlier, but she can work with deadish! Deadish is still attractive. This? This is kind of horrifying.

She takes a half step back on instinct, eyes steady on Koltira, if a little wide. ]

You're freaking me out here, buddy. [ Is he even hearing this? It seems unlikely. ] Can you... say anything?

[ The sword is most concerning. There's still about twenty feet between them, and she has to keep reminding herself that she's invulnerable to swords now. The standards for what's dangerous have changed drastically, and it's fine. She'd be fine.

But she hasn't survived this long by not listening to her gut instincts, and all of them are demanding a whole lot more steps back from him. ]

[He watches as her lips part, as she exhales heat and breath, as her tongue moves in the dark cavern of her mouth. She's worried; he gets that much. About what? Him? He looks briefly bewildered, even panic-stricken. He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything; he only knows that it hurts, that each step in any direction is like walking on so many poisoned daggers. But he has to move. He has to get to her, and she has to help him. She will help him.

He throws out his hand, and his shadowy whip burst forth, cracking through the air as it lashes around Ramir's throat. He snaps his wrist, and the whip snaps back in tandem, dragging Ramir with it.

Come here. Make it stop.]

[ It's his expression that penultimately stops her from listening to her instincts. Then ultimately, of course, a sudden grip around her neck. But before then she's torn by the urge to vacate and concern for someone she's decided is a friend, and the hesitation keeps her in place for just long enough.

Then her air is being choked off and she's being dragged forward, and she decides it doesn't really matter anymore why he looks like that. Maybe he's being controlled somehow, maybe he's sick — whatever, that's for thinking about later.

She tries to resist the drag forward, but only for a second or two. That's stupid. He's the threat, she has to do something about him first. So she shifts suddenly, throwing her weight forward instead, and leaps directly toward him. She can do something if she catches him off guard, right? Her fist balls and swings toward his face, though without her full strength behind it. She's still not quite sure what her full strength is, what if she just knocks off his head, or something? None of that, she doesn't want to murder the guy. Just get him to back off. ]

[Ramir's fist connects with his jaw, and he reels backwards, both from the force and the pain of it. His teeth knock into his lip, and blood streams down his chin. The shadow whip dissipates as he stumbles, clutching at his face.

Scowling, all sense of recognition or uncertainty lost, Koltira lifts his head and widens his eyes. Unholy energy, a sickly green in color, swirls around his body and Byfrost. He runs towards Ramir with unnatural speed, and when he's within range, he swings the sword--aiming to take a slice out of her mid-section.]

[ Speed, that's the one thing she's stuck with a completely human amount of. So she really doesn't have time for much, just enough to brace herself, get ready to knock the blade away with her forearm. Or at least, that's the plan. Skin and bones that resist damage doesn't do much for the force of his blow, though. That's the part that sends her flying with a cry, mostly surprise (not entirely; he's strong).

She hits the ground about ten feet back, misses her footing, and lands heavily on her side. She's quick to scramble back up again though, eyes locked onto Koltira. ]

Hey! Can you hear me in there? [ Any kind of a sign, something to let her know she should feel bad for hitting a little harder next time. ]

[He just keeps coming, barreling towards her. The ground beneath both of their feet churns, turning black and rotten. The soil spits up worms and beetles as it's disturbed; the grass withers into brown, brittle wisps. Pale arms, thin and nearly translucent, reach up from the dirt. They grab at Ramir, pulling on her ankles, trying to keep her in place. They are surprisingly strong.

Meanwhile, a tempest swirls around Koltira's body; gale force winds whip up around his hair and face, sharp with biting frost. His eyes reveal no emotion other than rage. Other than hatred.

He lunges for her.]

[ There's nothing. There's worse than nothing, actually. That trick with the soil is downright disgusting, and Ramir stumbles back away from it, only to be caught by the gripping hands. That's when the first twinges of panic really set in and she drops into a crouch to begin pulling on those awful, pale arms frantically, twisting and trying to break them — rip them off whatever they're growing out of, if she can.

She's nearly distracted enough with this to miss Koltira's lunge, but some instinct draws her gaze toward him again in time to catch it. Her eyes widen and she jolts upright again to meet him, fists balled. She'll try for another punch as soon as he's brought himself into range, again swinging right for his face, harder this time. She couldn't use less strength if she'd tried; terror is starting to set in, and she wouldn't be going easy on anything less than a dear friend. ]

[The pale limbs break easily, albeit only after a number of loud, sickening cracks. They collapse back into the dirt once broken, receding like spiders.

As Koltira leaps, frost crystals form and rapidly coalesce over his body, covering him in a hard, protective sheen of ice. When he brings the sword down, he's aiming to sweep her off of her feet.

Ramir's fist connects with his collarbone as they collide, her clenched knuckles slamming into the protective ice and punching right through it. The ice shatters and bursts like so many glass shards, falling around them as Koltira's bones fracture beneath the force of Ramir's attack.

But though he staggers, he does not stop. He reaches for her with one frost-rimed hand, grabbing for her throat.]

[ At least she got that punch in, because a second later that sweep of his sword does indeed knock her off her feet. She hits the ground hard as little ice shard rain down around her. She's barely started to catch her breath and move again, then there's a hand around her throat. She grits her teeth hard, one hand immediately closing around his wrist and squeezing. Maybe she can break his wrist. Is she that strong? She's really not sure. She's pretty sure she could break normal bones, but nothing about Koltira seems normal.

Her other hand reaches out toward Koltira, stretching, trying to get a hold on him, any part of him. If she can drag him in close enough before she strangulates to death, she's pretty confident she can fuck him up satisfyingly. ]

[Koltira's strength is not that he can't break. Koltira's strength is that he can break and still never, ever stop. Her grip on his wrist is punishing, even through the reforming layers of ice, even through the heavy saronite armor. The ice buckles, and the armor starts to crinkle, too. Koltira can feel the immense pressure on his bones.

But before he lets it go too far, he tightens his own hold on her throat. He digs his nails into the skin, to gain purchase there even if he can't break through. The runes on Byfrost flash blood red, and magic flows from them both.

Horrible, debilitating magic. He doesn't need to touch her for it to do its work, but he's not moving from his spot, regardless. As his muscles pull taut from the effort of holding her down, the spell takes its effect: a virulent curse that sets the blood in her veins to boiling. It is agony.]

[ She doesn't even register that flash of light from its sword, although two seconds of retrospect has her seeing that as a pretty stupid oversight. She's seen the stupid sword rot the ground under it, why wouldn't that be bad news?

She's still reaching, clawing for his face, trying to get a grip to put her strength to use, when she suddenly jerks in his grasp, surprised at the sudden pain. The sudden pain all over. She's screaming a second later, trying to curl over on herself, trying to do anything to make it stop. But she can't even tell where it's coming from, she has no shot at ending it. Maybe if she can manage to kill Koltira? Maybe...

Except she can't even unfold herself to reach for him again, even her grip on his wrist has gotten loser. All she seems to be able to do is scream. ]

[Screaming. Ramir is screaming. But she's not alone -- from somewhere in the distance and quickly coming closer, there is someone else yelling. There aren't any words, just a long, guttural bellow, closing in like a freight train.

Hellboy's hooves punch holes in the ground as he charges up, confident that he's amassed enough momentum that he'll knock Koltira off this woman when he slams into him with his shoulder. He might actually go flying with him, and he prepares to tuck into a roll if that happens; it's all instinctual, anger and adrenaline clouding his ability to think clearly right now.

What a life.]

[It's what he dreads; it's what he wants. That sound, that pure, primal expression of fear and agony. The screams in Ramir's throat thrum against the metal of his gauntlets, spreading like a balm over his entire body. He's intent on keeping her still, on keeping that raw, anguished voice singing. It's a single-minded focus, insistent and awful; if he had his own mind, he'd recoil from this, he'd vow never to touch Ramir again. But before the haze can recede enough for that to happen, a tremendous weight slams into Koltira from the side.

He's unprepared for it, and he tumbles off of Ramir easily, the claws of his gauntlets disengaging from her neck with a bloody pop. He's knocked flat on his back, and he kicks out with both legs, snarling, unaware of who's just attacked him--but perfectly ready to fight back.]

[ She becomes aware of their newest arrival only vaguely at first. Right up until contact he's just another noise, nearly drown out entirely by her own noise. But then suddenly Koltira is gone, yanked away, his hand off of her neck and the pain already starting to lessen.

She falls in a crumpled sprawl, but doesn't waste any time trying to gather her thoughts, or even see what the hell just happened. Her first move is to roll away, well out of the way of Koltira and — whoever. She still isn't sure who she's looking at when she forces herself up into a crouch, coughing for air and cupping her own neck.

That's when she finally goes still, eyes wide and tense all over. She got rescued. That much is apparent. By some... big red guy. That's about the extent of what she knows, and she can't tell if he's got it from here, if she should lend a hand... but god, she wants to bolt. All her muscles are primed and ready for it, it's just an unfortunate sense of duty that keeps her where she is. Koltira's pretty fucking awful right now, she can't just leave someone with that. ]

[Hellboy, having an unreasonable amount of experience charging into things/people, has managed not to just sort of awkwardly fall on top of Koltira. Once Koltira hits the ground, he uses him as a springboard, the rest of the momentum carrying him into a somersault. He still gets kicked in the side for his effort, though, so he lands in more of an awkward sprawl than anything else.

But there is no time to lie there feeling dazed or surprised, and he quickly pushes himself up to stand, hooves sliding in the snow. Center of gravity low, he balls his fists, the stonelike fingers of his right hand audibly grinding together.

Keeping his eyes on Koltira, he addresses the woman in a low, brusque tone.] Get out of here.

[Koltira snaps back up onto his feet, his attention diverted from Ramir to Hellboy. She's still there in the corner of his mind's eye--her blood singing in his ears--but she's no longer the priority. In his mania, he does not know Hellboy for who he is; he sees instead a demon, a minion of Sargeras, with skin as red as lava and eyes like false gold.

As a result of deciding that he's truly no longer fucking around, Koltira does several things at once. First, the earth beneath him--and in a wide radius around him--turns red, as though suddenly soaked with blood. Miasma rises from the soil, thick and black and agonizing. The grass decays instantly; the insects are reduced to paste.

Red runes on Byfrost shift, and several enormous, fat grubs pop up from the already tortured ground. They slither around Koltira, their toothy mouths open, waiting. The runes shift again: plague-colored this time, sickly and pale green. This aura drips around Koltira like venomous mist. Bones swirl rapidly around his body. His boots kick up the boiling earth as he takes an aggressive stance, his runeblade brandished, glowing ice blue now.

Come on, demon.]

[ She absolutely does not plan to 'get out of here', thanks... until Koltira's trick with the ground. That is truly disgusting. Ramir backs up a few hasty steps to be sure she's out of the perimeter of the affected area, distancing her even more from her weird red savior and the guy she'd made out with that one time, which is really the kind of showdown she never expected to see. ]

Uh, pretty sure we should get out of here.

[ This is about as much effort as she's willing to put in. She wants to see this guy out of it safely, but he is a perfect stranger, and if he's too stupid to cut and run when it's obviously not worth a fight, that's his problem. ]

[That would be an ideal solution, yes. But Hellboy's certain they'd both get cut down before they got five yards away from here. Whatever's wrong with Koltira has apparently messed with his ability to hold back because, unlike the time he fought snowmen with him, there is a whole lot more going on right now. Decay and bones and disgusting, worm-like creatures.

Hellboy really hates disgusting, worm-like creatures.]

Probably. [This is a terrible, horrifying situation, but Hellboy can't help but give in to the adrenaline, his teeth baring in something between a grin and a grimace -- he is overdue for beating on somebody trying to kill him.]

But I take stupid risks all the time.

[With that, Hellboy steels himself and then just unceremoniously charges forward. Once he hits the border of the miasma, it's an outrageous amount of pain eating at his flesh, but he doesn't stops -- it just spurs him forward, bellowing, his stone fist held aloft and ready to slam into Koltira.]

[Koltira tries to block Hellboy's punch with Byfrost, but he only partly succeeds; the runeblade absorbs some of the force, though not so much that Koltira can keep upright. He nearly flies backwards, in fact, crashing down hard on the ground. He feels bones break; skin tear; blood drip. Gnashing his teeth, he takes Byfrost's hilt with both hands and lifts it above his head as he stands. Dark energy pours from the skull-shaped runes inscribed on the blade. All around them, the field churns.

Moments later, the earth shakes in localized spots, as though something's trying to come up. Moments after that, quite a few somethings do. Ghouls, wights, other monstrosities of various shapes and sizes--though it is mostly ghouls, by and large--claw their way out of their dirt. Their garbled howls fill the air, and, as a pack, they launch themselves towards Hellboy. Claws out, jaws open.

Ramir, they pass by. Koltira has a demon to take down.]

[ No, that's it, that's all she's got. She is not sticking around for fucking demons clawing out of the ground. She tried her best, the red guy is on his own.

She wastes exactly zero more time, just turns on her heel and dashes off. She'll look for him later, see if he survived this whole thing. If not, well, she won't be too surprised. ]

[Honestly, Hellboy doesn't mind. He barely even registers Ramir's departure, actually -- he's dimly aware of her leaving, relieved that she's not about to be murdered, but there's rage bubbling up in his brain and he lets it wash over him at the expense of tracking anything but immediate threats. Of which there are now many, apparently.

Things crawl out of the ground and reach for him, and Hellboy howls in anger and frustration, swearing, slamming his stonelike fist into putrified flesh and bone. Things shatter and rip apart under his hand, ichor splattering everywhere, but the pile engulfs him quickly enough. Hellboy is accustomed to fighting things that only have their sights set on destruction, but he has never been that great against packs of things. Too many targets.

He can feel them clawing and biting at him from the bottom of the pile of dead things, but it only serves to fuel his anger about the whole situation, still lashing out with his right hand.]

[Koltira doesn't even notice that Ramir's gone. She's a non-entity to him now; the scope of his focus is limited to Hellboy, to the demon now before him.

Some of the ghouls go down easily. Their bodies cannot take the punishment dealt by the stone arm, and they explode almost on contact, a burst of bones and teeth and dirty bandages. Others are less easily deterred--a hulking behemoth with plagued pustules bubbling on its diseased skin keeps coming, lumbering at Hellboy, trying to give him the most unpleasant hug possible. Hellboy's arm punctures its stomach, but it soldiers forward, mindlessly, spilling its guts all over the field.

Koltira, meanwhile, leaps back into the fray himself, aiming Byfrost directly for what he presumes is Hellboy's big solid wrist. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

the danger is i'm dangerous

RAMIR + HELLBOY -- OUTSKIRTS, NEAR THE WOODS

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

crashes this party

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject