FEVER strikes, FEVER misses. FEVER cannot work invisible twine the way she would like and she will fall in accordance to its stage direction. There can be no changing it. No denying the red blade's place at the back of her skull or the fingers soon to pluck its prize from the paltry kin-body.
A twisted, bestial grin spreads across ORIN's face, red lips like a split wound revealing bone and tongue meat.
ORIN:
Weaker and weaker and weaker you become.
She strikes again.
(No—)
Locks eyes on the red stone, starved of it.
(I don't—)
ORIN:
I will revel in your destruction.
They collide. Her opponent tries and fails to best her. Tries and fails to stay her hand, to lunge at her stomach, to knock her down. And in her stubborn effort to win, FEVER meets the point-end of her kin's blade.
Tender muscle and tendon come away in snapping sounds. Blood sprays in a tremendous arc.
cw for mild gore
FEVER strikes, FEVER misses. FEVER cannot work invisible twine the way she would like and she will fall in accordance to its stage direction. There can be no changing it. No denying the red blade's place at the back of her skull or the fingers soon to pluck its prize from the paltry kin-body.
A twisted, bestial grin spreads across ORIN's face, red lips like a split wound revealing bone and tongue meat.
ORIN:
Weaker and weaker and weaker you become.
She strikes again.
(No—)
Locks eyes on the red stone, starved of it.
(I don't—)
ORIN:
I will revel in your destruction.
They collide. Her opponent tries and fails to best her. Tries and fails to stay her hand, to lunge at her stomach, to knock her down. And in her stubborn effort to win, FEVER meets the point-end of her kin's blade.
Tender muscle and tendon come away in snapping sounds. Blood sprays in a tremendous arc.
(Please I don't want this—)