[Incomplete]

[sadisticstorm]

Who: Larxene, Euphemia
When: Now.
Where: Somewhere around the lower level.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Violence.
Summary: Larxene steps up to take care of the woman talking to Rufus~ JEALOUS MUCH.

Comments

Is it all right to have Rufus step into the log in a few posts~?

[sadisticstorm]

A snarl later, and the back of Larxene's hand was meeting with Euphemia's jaw, nearly hard enough to crack bone, so very, very barely restrained. She was trying so hard to keep control, reign in her temper. Truth be told, Larxene could have done this for hours, poking and prodding and removing fingers and ears and tongue and the like.

But, fuck, fuck that nagging voice in the back of her head was oh so irritating. Warningwarningwarning.

Larxene. Don't do that; you'll regret it, Marluxia continued to say.

Not listening to you anymore; you left me, was all she could think of in reply. And it was true, wasn't it? What other reason did she have to be good, if he wasn't there to keep hold of her metaphorical leash? Why had she been working so damned hard at behaving lately, anyway?

The back of her hand struck sharply to the girl's face again, another firm warning. "Try again," she snarled out. "You'll stay the fuck away from him, right?"

Him. Him, him -- Rufus.

...Oh. Her reasoning, it was him, wasn't it? The reason she didn't want to do this. The Gods would take her away from him, and she didn't want that. Not at all.

Absolutely. :) Sorry, fell asleep last night. >_>

[xeuphonious]

What was another few broken bones or eight? Euphemia felt like she was made out of hot air, maybe just a huge, painful ghost hovering above the savage nymph. You should stop now, she told herself, you should stop baiting her. But this Euphemia fed off the anger, nearly revelled in it, still smiled sickly-sweet over at Larxene.

Like she could really hurt a princess, like she--

"Fuck," Euphemia cursed after the second hit, a long string of blood moving from her mouth, dangling. Blood, in her mouth? Fuck, Larxene hadn't even done much to her mouth. But the metallic taste was positive, and she could feel it congealing around her gums, around her tongue. It was disgusting.

Euphemia spat another mouthful of blood out, eye still focused on Larxene. "Fuck you," she said in reply. "I'll do whatever I want, regardless of your shitfaced desires..."

(( Not that I want Larxene to get punished but, uh, don't you think there's a very, very great possibility Euphemia won't survive this? o__o I'm just checking to see what you think. ))

NP. <3 and it's up to you if Euphemia dies or not.

[sadisticstorm]

"Will you?" The blonde grinned, then, sharkish with wide. Oh, the things people said when they had the easiest option in the world to save themselves.

Lifting up the potion bottle, Larxene dangled it teasingly before the girl's face, careful not to allow the liquid to spill from the uncorked top. "Do you know what this is? It's a potion. It'd heal all those horrid little injuries right up. I was going to give it to you if you decided to be a good girl, but since you're still being a whore... well~"

She placed the bottle down on the ground, just in front of Euphemia, and smoothly rose to her feet. Straightening, she stepped back, wiping her ungloved and bloodied hand on the front of her jacket. Leather did little to soak it up, and instead it smeared it over her palm and fingers. Tsk; she was going to need a shower.

"Now... I think it'd be more amusing to watch you try and pick that up and drink it yourself."

It would have been possible. Maybe. Euphemia's hands weren't in the best of shape, but there were other options - like leaning down to catch the neck of the tiny bottle in her mouth and lift it that way to drink it. It simply depended on how stubborn the brat wanted to be, or if she even wanted to believe the contents of the bottle were what Larxene claimed it to be; it could've been poison, for all she knew. (Not that is was, but still.) And Larxene could be patient; too much longer, bleeding the way she was and laying in the snow, her body was sure to go into shock before the hour was up.

The Nobody took another step back, well out of reach, and her lips drew right back up into that grin as her arms folded across her chest.

"How much longer is that pride of yours going to hold out, princess? How much more are you going to suffer for it?"

Oh gosh, then I'm going to opt for yes, if you'll let me. :| *guilt*

[xeuphonious]

Potions, hah. Like Euphemia would believe that lie: back home, the only thing that could heal injuries like this would've been time and incredible medical attention. The idea that some liquid in a little bottle could mend all her wounds was proposterous, ridiculous, insane; did Euphemia look like a gullible little bitch? Did she give off that image? Still, she flexed her hands experimentally, wincing. No, she couldn't withstand that pain. She bit hard on her lip, drawing blood that blossomed on her white teeth like dark red flowers.

"I wouldn't drink it even if you poured that fucking shit down my throat," Euphemia seethed, closing her eyes: it was becoming tiring to keep them open, though one eyelid fluttered over the empty space it covered strangely. It was strange to not feel anything there except for the drip of blood, that pain that didn't seem to settle for being described with words. "I'd rather smash the bottle and carve your neck out with the pieces."

As much as Euphemia wished to, the likelihood of that happening was very, very close to zero. With hands reduced to mere flaps of flesh, important tendons torn that were needed to manipulate her fingers, leg muscles that ached from stab wounds. The blood loss was bad, she even could distinguish that information the way her mind was reeling.

"I'd rather die than beg mercy from a bitch like you."

Euphemia hardly had the energy to open her eyes, so she didn't; instead she shifted her weight to be more comfortable, gritting her teeth with effort and the overwhelming pressure that began to condense on her chest, the static blots of light that seemed to form in her mind's vision. It was like dying all over, she suddenly realized, except there was no warm bed, no gun, no Suzaku, and it hurt infinite times more.

Her hands itched for the potion, however, and one of her limbs (the left, actually) began to inch slowly toward the bottle. Slowly, but surely, because she was sure if she moved too fast, her arm would spring out of its socket. Or she hoped it would, because then maybe it'd fucking stop hurting.

[sadisticstorm]

Larxene resisted her initial urge to either knock the potion away from the girl, or just... kick her in the teeth. Both sounded like good options. But those words in the back of her mind continued to nag and nag, and she inclined her chin, shaking her head to get the blonde hair from her eyes.

Fine. Euphemia could stay there and struggle all on her lonesome, because Larxene knew if she stayed any longer, she'd end up doing something she regretted.

So, the Nobody turned away, casting a careless glance over one shoulder.

"Hardly entertainment value in watch you be pathetic, princess," she called cheerfully. "Have fun. Do hurry, would you? It would be so terribly unpleasant for anyone to find your hideous, rotting corpse out here in the cold~"

And with that, she was walking away, boots leaving prints in the snow as she went.