snowblindrpg | [EVENT] Lavender's Blue [open]

[The first blow barely misses, and it's only the fact that Undertaker is bleeding quite profusely from his back and side that keeps him from following it up with several more swift blows. As it is, he leans heavily on the bat when it's end touches the ground, a flash of recognition on his face when he gets a better look at the blurry figure before him. There's blood in the snow at his feet, partly overshadowed by the remains of the half-collapsed house they're in.

His hair is, for once, brushed away from his face. His eyes glow brightly from their double-irised gaze, as he realizes his mistake.]

You're late, Kiddy. [He winces, pressing his free hand against the wound in his side. He knows it's perforated some organs, but he's not dead yet.]

[Kid is too tired, too dizzy, and most importantly too shaken for his usual attempt at keeping up with Undertaker's banter.

Instead, the teen's eye widens in obvious concern, his breathing sharp and anxious.]

You've been hurt! [Kid doesn't have much; digging through his pockets he produces another scrap of fabric, one that had probably been a handkerchief at some point. It's small, but the teen moves to press it against Undertaker's side after folding it to thicken it.

His voice is a tense whisper, just loud enough to hear.] Hold that-- [With a very specific task, Kid is focused and direct. He drops his pack and then strips off his coat and suit jacket to reveal a white button down shirt...and suspenders. Which he also removes, before trying to puzzle out how to wrap them around Undertaker's waist and provide pressure.

He's a Grim Reaper, ok? Nobody said he had the best first aid skills.] It--this isn't perfect, but the elastic will do in a pinch as a tourniquet, without suffocating you.

Oh? I was wondering what that pain was... [He attempts his usual laugh, but it comes out as more of a wheeze. The press of the handkerchief against his side doesn't give him much pause, even though it's quickly soaked through by the blood still seeping from the gash beneath his robes.

What does is when the other begins taking off his own clothes. His eyes narrow slightly, and he forcibly reaches out to place a hand on Kid's much shorter head, keeping him pressed far enough that he can't apply the make-shift bandage to him. He uses his grip to make the other look up, chartreuse eyes peering into the single gold of Kid's.]

Put them back on. You'll need those, even if you can't feel the cold now.

[His thumb nail traces the very edge of the bandage covering the other side of his face.]

Who did that?

[Kid wriggles under the hand on his head, frustration and anxiety curling in his abdomen. He can't reach, but he doesn't move to grab his jacket and coat even as he starts shivering in the chilly air. So much for not feeling the cold now.

No matter; Kid shrinks away from the finger tracing the bandage above his now empty eye socket, his grip on the suspenders loosening, and immediately shakes his head. The single gold eye that stared up at Undertaker squeezed tightly shut and he tilted his face back to the snow.] I stepped in. To help somebody...

[Kid swallows, his jaw moving against something he chooses to keep to himself. Shivering hands offer the suspenders a second time.] The tourniquet, please. Unless you fancy exsanguination.

[It doesn't answer his question, but the other seems very reluctant to give up the answer. Why? Because it was someone he didn't want Undertaker to know about? Someone he liked, then. Trusted.

But he eventually lets go, slipping his hand off as he takes the suspenders from the other.]

Not as though it'll give me much time. [But he ties them off around his torso, regardless. He knows how to staunch the blood flow without referring to Kid's assistance.]

I'm already a lost cause. But I appreciate it.

[As Undertaker ties off the poor excuse of a dressing, Kid slips his jacket and then coat back on. It takes more than one attempt to grab them from where they'd been discarded on the ground, his depth perception shot.]

You are a lost cause when we stop trying. [Kid fumbles through fastening his last button and then steps closer to the other man. Despite perceiving the room as very cold, the reaper gives off quite a bit of warmth courtesy of his fever.

The overwhelming need to hide rolls in his stomach, and Kid's remaining eye casts a look around the room.] We shouldn't be out in the open--

[ Man, you glowy bastards are so chatty. He's not complaining, though, as he advances on the distracted duo. ]

No, actually, you should. Makes things waaaaaay easier.

[ For him, anyway. An adult, a kid, already wounded. Simple. It's almost too bad about the kid, but sin knows no minimum age.

There's something he recognizes about the adult -- it's stored in the back of his mind for now. It nags, though not enough to keep him from stepping closer. ]

[Despite his injuries, Undertaker turns at the sound of Rhys' voice and braces the bat in one hand between them. It wobbles ever so slightly, but the expression on his face is focused and dangerous.]

This party's full; go somewhere else.

[Kid stiffens, panic running through him. He looks from Rhys to Undertaker, trying to judge the distance between them better. It's difficult for him to get a better sense of how close they are to one another.

His only weapon is the broken piece of washboard, and he'd rather use his hands if need be, at least for now. Kid lowers his small frame to give himself more balance and raises his hands, the single glowing Golden eye narrowed in a glare.]

Rhys. Stay back.

[ Undertaker is, despite the injuries, clearly the one to take out first. He sees that wobble; this may not be a cakewalk, but even down one limb and eye, he can do this.

He has to do this. It's the only way to make things right.

He does not heed Kid's warning, stepping closer. Slow and measured. ]

Sorry, guys, party's over.

[ That probably sounded badass in his head. ]

[His free arm shoots out in front of Kid, blocking him as well as attempting to shield him while he takes his own step forward. He gives the bat a little whirl with his wrist, gearing up to begin swinging.

He doesn't attack first, though. He'll let Rhys have that pleasure, in order to see how he fights. Even though he knows his chances of winning this are slim, he might be able to injure Rhys back severely enough that it'll give Kid a chance to escape.]

[Kid stumbles just slightly when he's moved out of the way, struggling to keep his balance. His glowing eye's gaze stays sharp, but he doesn't drop his hands.

He hisses quietly to Undertaker:] Be careful.

[ Rhys' attack pattern can only be called 'sudden, crazed, and disorganized' as he lurches at Undertaker, brandishing a thick slice of... glass? Yes, glass. Glass that is digging into his own hand.

What Undertaker may not expect is the small metal robot zipping out of nowhere and careening towards his head.

DISTRACTIONBOT: GOGOGO ]

Run when you can.

[DUMPY NO

Luckily, Undertaker's experienced at taking on multiple enemies at the same time. He ducks under the robot at the last second, gripping his weapon with both hands for extra strength as he then blocks Rhys' attack.

He'll attempt to get a kick or two in in retaliation. Blood splatters onto the ground from his still slowly-bleeding wound as it's agitated in the process.]

[Kid gets the instruction, but can't follow it--the small robot that Undertaker is able to easily dodge hits Kid squarely in the head, actually on the bandage of his ruined eye socket.

The metal digs into flesh, and he tries to brush the device away while stumbling backwards.] I will not leave you!

[ Dumpy reels back, shrieking right into Kid's ear, before going in for another, more aggressive donk. This game is fun!

Rhys, meanwhile, is booted in the chest, but this is a man who has become used to being beat on. Used to a massive degree of pain. He grunts, but shrugs it off and moves to tackle his wounded foe. ]

[Stupid.

Kid will have to deal with Dumpy on his own unfortunately. Getting tackled sort of prevents him from helping, as he struggles to roll both himself and Rhys with him on top. If he can bash Rhys hand against the ground and make him drop his glass shard, he will.]

[The high-pitched screaming in his ear, the sudden searing pain, and Kid reaches up and swings at the little robot with an impressive amount of force. It didn't stop the bugger from getting another hit--bleeding like only a wound to the head can and obscuring the vision Kid does still have--but it was hopefully enough to grant him some reprieve.

Stunned momentarily, the teen shakes himself free of the buzzing creature and looks to Undertaker and Rhys. The robot is ignored and Kid lunges for the two tussling in the snow. He's small and sickness hasn't done him any favors, but Kid is surprisingly strong and his aim is for the single hand that is holding the glass shard, though his other arm will make an attempt to strike Rhys should he have the opportunity.

Kid is rather unarmed and he would very much like a pointy weapon. The glass shard fit the bill.]

[ Rhys only has the one arm and has to, absolutely has to use it to keep Undertaker down. He's a skinny thing at the end of the day, missing pieces but fueled by adrenaline and fiery, black hatred.

He uses his knee to get the shard a little closer, a little protected from the sinners. Kid's blow hits; his nose is bleeding. Not broken, but gushing. ]

DUMPY!

[ Dumpy trills and stops trying to bash Kid's head in. Instead, he hovers in his face, thrusters at maximum. It's going to be hot, horribly hot.

As for Undertaker, he shoves his fingers in the man's previous wound and starts digging deep. ]

[Undertaker has a high pain threshold--that much is obvious by the scars left on him from some other traumatic event in his life. But he doesn't expect Rhys to go right for the gouge in his side and start digging in.

Blindingly hot pain sears from the area and up his spine. He chokes back a scream, his fighting suddenly frantic and desperate in an attempt to damage back as much as possible. He forgets the glass and his bat, hands going for the other man's face.

His nails dig in fiercely, one thumb trying to gouge at the closest prophet eye he can get at.]

[Kid scrambles to fight away from the burning thrusters, the burning heat searing his remaining eye. He yelps, shutting it quickly--and the skin of his eyelid burns mostly closed, reddened and blistered. It takes him too long to wrench the robot away from his face, almost entirely blinded. When he does, the teen uses both hands and ignores the pain in his hands as metal shreds his flesh and he tries to break any pieces of Dumpy he can.

In the chaos of trying to rid himself of the robot, he's completely turned around. He hears Undertaker but can't figure out where to turn to help--and when he does move, it's awkward and disjointed, blood dripping to the ground, until he falls forward nearly face-first.

He is not very helpful at the moment.]

[ Dumpy's shrieking turns distressed -- this isn't fun anymore.

Fun fact: robots do feel pain, aggressively and in slow motion. He pulls away from Kid immediately and flies to Rhys' side, warbling.

Rhys is a little preoccupied with Undertaker trying to gouge out his eye. Unfortunately for him, his fingers get the irisless eye. That's not to say no damage is done; the hole bleeds anew and Rhys hisses, jerking his bleeding face back. He violently twists his hand in the wound, clawing and digging as deep as he can before yanking it back out and going for the glass. He stabs it into the wound and drags it up and around, carving into Undertaker's chest. ]

[His hands grab for Rhys' neck when his face is torn from his reach, but they only close around it for a few seconds before he's too weak to continue. The glass seals the deal, blood pouring from the extended tear as he's all but gutted.

He still doesn't scream in pain, but there's a wet gurgle that comes from his throat before his limbs go pliant and his head rolls a few degrees to the side. This isn't the first time he's died, but it sucks just as much as he remembers as the feeling of cold takes over and his brain stops functioning.

The lights in both of his irises fade, before they go completely dark.]

[ Rhys stands and spits on the body. He gives Dumpy a few pats, smearing blood all over the shaking screambot. ]

It's okay now, buddy.

[ His eye falls on Kid. ]

...almost okay.

[ His stomach is churning a little, but he swallows it down as he approaches Kid. One stab to the throat; he'll make it quick. ]

[Vision severely limited, Kid is relying on other senses to tell him what is happening around him. He hears the wet gurgle and then the silence--and more importantly the calm tone with which Rhys speaks after.

Instant, white hot rage burns in his stomach, and it overpowers the compulsion to run. The hint of golden light from his left eye flicks towards Rhys just in time, and Kid is able to push back from the makeshift glass knife, narrowly avoiding being stabbed in the neck. Still on the ground he launches himself for Rhys' neck, grappling with both hands wildly, small thin fingers digging hard into any skin or muscle he gets a grip on.]

[EVENT] Lavender's Blue [open]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: gore

cw: serious gore

CW: gross eye stuff

cw: it gets worse, eye stuff/gore continues

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

cw teen death