[1v1] Counting Stars (Senga & Mengyao) (violentplz)

[kuropeco]

He was like a feral animal that had yet to be tamed. There was something darker in Senga's countenance, something deep and guttural that sank into his very being, into each and every line of his face - a wild creature uninhibited by morals or ethics.

Horseman no longer seemed the right term for such a thing.

His head reeling, spinning, Mengyao's fingers curled tighter around Senga's throat, his thumb pressing against the other's windpipe. "Why should I," he hissed out. "waste my breath on the likes of you?"

Mengyao twisted, shoving upwards and rolling over until this time he was the one pinning Senga down, his hand curling slowly, almost lovingly, around Senga's neck, the other pressing flat against his collarbone to hold him in place. A bitter laugh escaped Mengyao's lips, his head buzzing with the voices that threatened to consume him from the inside out.

"You, who cannot possibly begin to understand me."



[ HP: 18/40
Target: Sengyaoi
Damage: meng plz
FEAR: Y2 Chill ]

keiifuu

these kids I swear

 

[keiifuu]

This animalistic craving - he hadn't felt it in so long. A part of Senga's mind wanted to reel it in, to salvage the horseman-like instincts that had been burnt into him since childhood. But there was something about the way the voices itched and scratched at him, there was something about the way Mengyao infuriated him that bit and tore like needles into his skin, scraping away whatever self-worth and dignity he'd feigned ownership of in the beginning.

The pressure on his throat made him gag, his mind reeling sickeningly further and further into carnal, suppressed thoughts better left to the nightmares and the dreams. There was a thick, undulating heat in him, begging for release; the type that craved blood and broken bones and all of the things that belonged to the wild, to the world where humanity was left behind.

When Mengyao flipped them, Senga gritted his teeth, the dirt scraping at his exposed skin. It was funny, really, that Mengyao, who seemed so composed, would fall to this, to rolling around in the dirt with him like an animal while denying that perhaps there was savagery in him too. The wolf keened at the touch, a dark and malicious tease of sound. Instead of reacting like he was pinned, Senga exposed his neck like a wolf barring submission, his wild gold eyes flashing with inhuman amusement. The voices in his head rose up, a torrent of sound that swallowed any semblance of humanity left.

"Ha." His breath escaped as a sound like shattered glass. "Whoever was it that said I tried?" His eyes turned to Mengyao, swallowed by an animals hunger. He lifted his hand, claws raking against the Nobles cheeks and leaving thin red lines. "But then, who are you to understand me? A few correct guesses doesn't make you an expert, Mengyao." His voice deepened, hand falling away as he exposed his neck beneath the Nobles grasping hands.

"So tell me, then, could you kill a feral animal? Or are you just playing another one of your little games?"

HP: 26/40
Target: Mengyaoi
Damage: 2
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry

kurotomato

i s2g u 2

 

[kuropeco]

Was that all this was? A game they both played, each one pushing each other, forcing out the rawest of emotions until they snapped, until they broke, until everything was laid bare and nothing was left except for the most basic primal instincts?

Mengyao Miao was a Horseman of Conquest, not a savage of War.

But the voices were thick inside of his skull, thick and pressing and growing and making the pain rise, the pressure building until all it felt like was a horrible buzzing sensation and he could think of little else than crushing the maggot beneath him. Senga's breathing was harrowed, but his eyes were keen and wild simultaneously, lifting his chin proudly as though he were exposing his throat purposefully, as though daring Mengyao to complete the task he had started to do.

Mengyao lowered his head so that his face was right beside Senga's, smearing the blood across both of their faces and his fingers around Senga's neck dug deep enough to draw blood.

"You do not deserve death," he whispered into his ear. "Death is too good for you."



[ HP: 16/40
Target: Sengyaoi
Damage: 4
FEAR: Y2 Chill ]

keiifuu

#boysplz

 

[keiifuu]

Senga growled against the thick claws in his throat, a sound choked and vibrant and inhuman all at once. He was a spark to a flame, an intoxication of the worst kind. His words scratched and nipped and tore at Senga, biting away at any sense of kindness in him until only scars and wordless voices remained.

"Of course you would say that." He hissed, laughing. "You of all people." His body tensed, bone and muscle twitching beneath exposed skin. Every carnal desire in his body had been scratched awake by Mengyao's actions, a heat for blood that could not be sated so easily. It made his blood boil, his skin prickle with gooseflesh and ache to reach and tear at another's body.

But it was the heat above all else that burned him and burned away his focus. It pricked at him uncomfortably from every angle, suffocating more than Mengyao's searching hands ever could. It is all wrong, a part of his mind remarked savagely, you have to stop.

But that was so much easier said than done.

"Didn't they ever teach you not to put your head next to a savage animal?" Senga hissed, slamming his body up into Mengyao's. His hands searched and tore and pawed at the other, easily tearing past expensive fabric to the delicate skin below. His body stretched beneath the Noble, a creature trapped in human skin. In a flurry of bone and wing, he flipped them again, and without hesitation pressed his fingers against the Noble's throat, above his torn, bloody clothes.

"Come on, Mengyao, if you're going to do one thing only, do it right."

His thumbs found the others windpipe and turned, nails digging ruthlessly into
the skin to puncture, to tear, to choke.

HP: 22/40
Target: Mengyaoi
Damage: 5
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry

kurotomato

----- I COULDNT HELP MYSELF LAUGHS INTO AN EARLY GRAVE

 

[kuropeco]

Neither one of them was who they had started as, both of them devolving into the beasts that lay beneath their skin. For Senga, it was something wild and wholly untameable, the spirit of the War Clan deeply ingrained within his body. And for Mengyao, it was the prickling grey Insanity that had found its way below the surface, sinking into him, pulling out his deepest and most carnal instincts and letting them rise to the surface.

He wanted to see Senga's blood on his hands.

Before he could answer the question posed to him, however, he was flipped over, back onto his back, feeling Senga's claws ripping at his clothing. He gave a howl of rage and frustration, this time the one with his throat encircled, feeling his air constricted, letting out a gasp of surprise and pain. Black swam in front of his vision, and he choked out a mirthless laugh, blood gurgling in his throat.

"Like you've ever done anything right in your entire life colt."

His fingers found Senga's hands and dug his nails into the skin.



[ HP: 11/40
Target: Sengyaoi
Damage: 3
FEAR: Y2 Chill ]

keiifuu

 

[keiifuu]

Senga laughed, a howling and savage sound that tore into the air. There was something about Mengyao, he thought, something both intoxicating and infuriating at the same time. What had been neutrality quickly bled into animosity. He couldn't run from the other; he'd never been one to pick fights, but Mengyao scratched at his patience just by being there. Whatever self-control he had the decency to practice dissolved beneath the others burning stare, instigating a bloodlust with only the Noble in mind as prey.

"Haven't you learned your lesson yet?" Senga hummed, leaning down, his breath against Mengyao's chin, his nails scratching at the others throat, deeper and deeper in aggravation. "You can restate the obvious all your miserable existence. It does not matter, I already know. Don't you see, don't you get it?"

He opened his mouth into a growl, palming the others neck harshly, scratching skin with his canines hard enough to draw blood, if only to drive the other up a wall. "I'm not as blind as you'd like to think."

HP: 19/40
Target: Mengyaoi the Wise
Damage: 6
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry

kurotomato

 

[kuropeco]

Senga, it seemed, managed to bring out the worst in him, bring out the appetite for blood that lay beneath the seemingly calm surface. But no - no, he was of Conquest. He was not a beast of War, Mengyao Miao was nothing like them.

He was nothing like Senga.

There was blood running in rivulets down Mengyao's neck now, covering the front of his robes with a deep scarlet, a stain that would not come out, that would seep into his skin, into his very being, until there was nothing left but red red red -

"No," breathed out Mengyao, his voice coming out as hardly a whisper, gravely and rough. It was difficult to breathe, and his vision wavered in and out, feeling Senga's fingers digging into his throat, the wolf's breath warm against his skin. He was losing and he knew it. "You're not.

"You're just playing blind."

His fingers wrapped around Senga's wrists, Mengyao's head falling back.



[ HP: 5/40
Target: Sengyaoi
Damage: ...../tosses meng over her shoulder
FEAR: Y2 Chill ]

keiifuu

...................

 

[keiifuu]

Senga laughed again, the sound this time a rasping, broken sound. What had he thought he would do when he'd seen Mengyao again? Apologized? Picked daisies by the side of the path? No, in some feral part of his mind he'd known all along that they would always end up here, pushing each others boundaries and reiterating statements that didn't burn and cut and tear half as much as their searching, frantic hands.

Urgency burned sourly in his throat, filling his veins with adrenaline. Every syllable out of the Nobles mouth made him angrier. Every goading sound and touch and taste was another slab of meat to the voices chattering and shrilling voraciously in his head. His nails slipped down from Mengyao's neck, dragging deep, rough red lines in his skin and across his chest, bloody and savage. If he was a feral beast like Mengyao so insisted, then he wasn't leaving without making a mark.

"Ha, what an accusation for you of all people to say." Senga rumbled, raking his canines against the deep puncture wounds bleeding scarlet. "I might be playing blind, but at least I'm no liar."

He laughed again. "Are you done, Mengyao? Is that all?"

HP: idr
Target: Mengyaoi
Damage: 3 gdi
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry

kurotomato

idek bro

 

[kuropeco]

There was no other path to take, no other roads to go down. No matter which way they turned, they would always wind up back at each other's throats, each one unyielding, unwilling to give in to the other.

Listening to Senga was like listening to a wild animal howl over its prey. Senga's teeth were against his throat, and Mengyao could feel his strength leaving him, his will to fight back slipping away as easily as the blood that now ran down his front, soaking his robes.

"That's...the thing," Mengyao breathed out, closing his eyes. It was difficult to breathe, difficult to even think properly. He couldn't decipher between the words spoken by the wolf and the words buzzing in his own head, everything sliding together, colliding in a mess of black and red and white and more red -

He could taste blood on his tongue.

"I don't...lie. I've never...lied."

His breath rattled in his throat, wet and rasping. He coughed, spitting blood.

"But you're a liar if you think I'm ever done with you."

He lifted his hands, and with a last ditch effort, rolled them over once more, twisting his head so that his teeth were against Senga's neck and he was snapping like a feral animal with whatever strength he had left.



[ HP: 2/40
Target: Sengyaoi
Damage: 3
FEAR: Y2 Chill ]

keiifuu

ide

 

[keiifuu]

Senga growled, the sound wet and feral in his throat. He clawed at Mengyao, palming the heat of his skin and scratching the places he hadn't already bruised and bloodied. Any ghost of humanity had left his body, creating a hollow shell in which carnal desires now brewed, hot and unsteady beneath the surface. Everything was red, bleeding into his vision, consuming his sanity in the wake of its destruction.

Being flipped wasn't a surprise; where Senga was quick and agile, Mengyao still won in both height and physical strength. The wolf was wiry, like a creature starved and savage. And the further he was pressed into a corner, the more he felt the need to hurt. His lips curled back over bloody fangs, and he clawed at Mengyao the way an animal bucked and thrashed beneath a common predator.

"Come now, Mengyao, you silly creature," Senga rasped, his palms against the man's head, yanking and pulling harshly at his hair and pulling him up and away, even when his neck was ripped apart by sharp, parting fangs. His eyes flashed a vivid gold, laughing, inhuman. He stared at the other, his lips splitting into a grin that wasn't sane.

"Look at you, brought down to my level. Savage. Feral." He leaned up his jaw opening wide so that he could graze his fangs along the other jawline, biting away blood. "You're scratching from your knees. You're backed into a corner. You've lost."

He hissed the words against the Noble's ear, biting into the cartilage until it tore beneath his fangs.

His voice, wet with hunger, burrowed like a hot needle against Mengyao's skin. "I've won this round, foolish boy."

HP: 16/40
Target: Mengyaoi the Incompetent
Damage: 10 seriously.
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry

kurotomato

UM

 

[kuropeco]

It was just like him, to lose.

He should have known from the start that he, a Noble of Conquest, was not known for his physical strength, nor his desire to even fight in the first place. He knew how to wield a bow, certainly, but that was from a distance, from a place where he would not dirty his clothes, nor his hands.

But the voices in his head were stronger, more bitter, more swelled with frustration and anger, a red hot, vibrant anger that threatened to consume him, threatened to swallow him whole and spit him back out as less of a man than he already was.

Senga already knew what he was - an animal. Mengyao supposed this was why he had known from the start that he would lose. Because Senga was already aware of the feralness that lay beneath his heart, settled in his bones. The darkness was already there, he was already aware of it.

The darkness in Mengyao had only just started to grow.

His fingers slid down the side of Senga's face as he fell sideways, his fingers slipping against the pale hair, streaking blood alongside the wolf's cheek, Mengyao's eyes already closed, already unconscious. He landed with a thud on the ground, spattered in blood, his clothes soaked in scarlet, his breathing shallow and rasping.

No more.

Just let me sink into this oblivion and stay here.

No more.  

[keiifuu]

Damn.

Damndamnd-damn it all.

Senga growled at the limp weight above him, at Mengyao unconscious and slumped over his body like a corpse. With every second, his mind was cooling, the voices were simmering down, and he was beginning to see past the red. He writhed, pushing Mengyao's limp body to the side and sitting up with a hiss of breath.

He'd really done a number on the Conquest Noble, one he hadn't meant to.

Senga pushed his hands against his forehead and scowled. Damn it all. The worst part was the craving still lodged in his throat, the unresolved hunger that urged him to continue to search and tear and feast. He took deep, slow breaths, his body heaving like a wolf after a long hunt.

"Damn it, Mengyao."

He stared at his work for a long minute, aggravated at the appearance of the other. His clothes were in shreds, and his skin had faired even worse. There was scarlet at his throat and what was worse was that Senga couldn't exactly carry him anywhere.

His wings pumped a few times in irritation, growing alongside the static hum of voices in his head. What the hell was he supposed to do now? There was nothing wrong with leaving him there, a part of his mind reasoned. It was his own damn fault.

Making a sound of aggravation, Senga pumped his wings a second time before standing up. He hated Mengyao, but he wasn't that cruel.

So he dumped him on the path leading nearer to the Conquest area of the Sanctuary (half because that was as far as he could carry him, and half because if he carried him any further, he was going to throw him off a cliff), staring down at the limp body before stalking off.

Nothing good ever came from handling that Conquest Noble, Senga convinced himself, seeking out refuge in the fists and playful spars of fellow War horsemen once he returned to the canopies.

Nothing at all.  

[kuropeco]

He could hear a voice somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, a familiar voice, one that didn't belong to the wolf he had just lost to. But for the life of him, Mengyao could not place it, nor could he find the strength to do more than shift a little, letting out a low groan of pain.

His fingers twitched, found a hand, and held on, but Mengyao did not awaken.