lucetilogs | We're more than carbon and chemicals

Entry tags:

We're more than carbon and chemicals

Who: All Draftees
What: Fighting Third Party
When: 26th, 27th, 28th, 1st, and 2nd
Where: The Southern Farmlands
Summary: See here for overall details.
Rating: Probably gonna be gorey in places :|a

DOESN'T NEED A CUT. People should know how this works, if not, just follow other people's lead. I'm gonna set up some strategist threads at the top, for the four strategists to use if they want to, otherwise people should start their own threads.

((Mod Note: Since this has been asked a few times, just fyi, the livestock do not talk. Happy hunting!))

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[He furrows his brow.]

Everyone seemed like they were handling things well, so... I just thought I'd come out here and see if anyone was seriously hurt or anything, y'know?

[Because obviously this is the best thing to do, running around getting chased by angel bros.]

[Searching the sky carefully, but he takes a moment to send an unimpressed glare]

I get you wanna help, but if you're not a fighter, you might slow people down.

Bah, I don't mind being left on my own. I've had to deal with a few battlefields like this in my time... I'm mainly worried about someone dying when I could've been right there to help 'em!

... Heh. Don't blame me if you get your ass kicked. [Jeez, you sound like his crew at times. Maybe that's why he tolerates you]

You're really cruel, you know tha—

[There's a moment where he does see it coming. Something glinting sharply in front of a figure hovering just a short distance away. He only has time to look surprised before—]

[A gust of wind screaming quietly—something goes circling past Sanji: a blade that slices through and through, taking Ian's head clean off in a mess of shock-red blood.

And the body crumples backward into a heap.]

Ian--

[It happens too fast, and yet he sees it all. The blade - the connect - the froth of blood that spills and decorates his shirt, part of his face.

No... no no no no no nonono---]

IAN! [Shit. No, no this can't be happening. Sanji lurches forward even while his mind screams it's a little too late to do anything, the enemy's right behind him, turn around idiot, and he ignores it all because he can't compute the headless body slouched right there when it should be--]

No-- [If he hadn't been so fuckin busy bantering instead of checking the area and just-- no. He hadn't been serious, you stupid shit! He was gonna protect you!]

DAMN IT! [Over the roar of his blood he hears the shitty fuck who did this approach, with the murderous intent to finish this off... and Sanji doesn't even think. His foot comes around and slams, hard, into the chest, nailing his enemy to the dirt. The grimace and scream and soaking red beneath the opponent lets him know he broke most of the bones in the bastard's wings.

Good.

He won't enjoy this a bit, bastard, but you're not leaving this spot alive.]

[Behind Sanji, there's a twitch—two, three, four, and then slowly, the corpse sits up from his place in the dirt without seeming to move much of himself in the process. Something round and with his face crumples into some dark ash behind him, while the blood remains, stuck like blood tends to linger. A hand comes up and massages one-half of a regenerating face, as a listless brown eye catches sight of Sanji and—ah, no, think, think, who is that guy he's got there?

Ah.

His one eye widens and he stands upright like the ground was burning lava hot against his palms, grabbing Sanji's arm. In his half-minded (literally so very half-minded) attempt to stop the angry chef, he manages:]

Sanji, stop!

[That guy is bleeding an awful lot. Did you break his wings? He can't fix that sort of thing... Not wings. Wait, what's he thinking? By the time this is said and done, most of his head's returned, save for fleshy patches across one half of his face, already sewing themselves back up.]

Edited 2011-02-27 11:18 (UTC)

[...

Well, Ian, congratulations. You got Sanji to stop. Completely. He hasn't even applied enough pressure to crush the ribcage and splatter the heart. That would be because he's too busy staring with his mouth hung open at your face, and that it's on your shoulders where it belongs and--

You're... alive...]

Ian?

[Ian lets go and rubs a hand across his hairline, assessing if he was all-healed yet; seemed so. And so it goes, he's standing in the middle of blood that came from his neck, looking at a guy who'd just watched his face fall away from his body.

... Suffice... to say, he's not sure what words he should be formulating, to make this any less awkward for him and shocking for Sanji. He swallows what's left of the blood in his throat.]

... I'm okay.

[...] Aaa.

[Very slowly he steps off the Third Party fighter, taking not heed of the man struggling for a weapon. Sanji just kicks him in the head until he's silent, though still breathing at Ian's request.

Funny - just a moment ago he couldn't imagine Ian with no head, and now he's struggling to commit this new image to memory, as if this past minute hadn't existed. It's clear he's struggling with what to say in response to it all.]

[Oh wait, he does have a response:

His fuckin foot in your face, you son of a...]

BASTARD!

THE FUCK WAS THAT! ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK?!

[While crushed under foot suspiciously like that icon:]

I think... you kicked my tooth... loose...

I'll kick more than that loose! [He removes his foot, and stomps it down before he gives into the urge to loosen Ian's nose next.

Damn it, he's nearly sick from relief]

Warn someone next time!

[He sits up, spitting out a tooth ~~which is already growing back in, fancy that~~, and looks up apologetically, with a little more seriousness. It suddenly (finally) occurs to him that Sanji thought he'd just watched someone die.

Ian personally hates that feeling more than anything in the world.]

Ah... sorry... I didn't—really think to tell you about that.

Edited 2011-02-27 11:55 (UTC)

You think? [There's no bite in his tone this time save the remnants of an adrenaline rush. Shit, he's really starting to hate this draft and what it does to his psyche.

...]

C'mon. [Both are still surrounded by the heat of battle. This is no time to dawdle.] Unless you want your head cut off again.

[You got a little smudge on your cheek there. 8|;;

But he follows obediently, feeling wonderfully guilty.]

Y-yeah. It's not the funnest experience.

[>_> Pretend it doesn't exist for now.

They walk in silence, Sanji hyper-aware of their surroundings to the point of paranoia. Odd, how much he doesn't care about Ian's immortality - he can still get hurt, and that's what the chef's concerned with]

... how often does that happen?

Losing my head?

[oh-so-sheepishly:]

... I've lost count.

Edited 2011-02-28 00:27 (UTC)

... I see.

[He says nothing else to that. Not much to say, after all. Except, besides:]

Be careful anyway.

[He flexes his arm at that, managing a little smile.]

Yessir, I'll do my best! As long as you don't kick me again!

[This stare, over his shoulder]

No shitty promises, bastard.

Re: [Any day after the first]

pearheaded - 2011-02-28 04:47 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

We're more than carbon and chemicals

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Re: [Any day after the first] 1/3 TIME FOR SOME JOYFUL CAROLLING

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Re: [Any day after the first] no this is just fine

[Any day after the first] why did I agree to this again

[Any day after the first] seriously. WHY DO I DO THIS TO HIM?

[Any day after the first] I am a terrible person and I need to be shot

Re: [Any day after the first] Yes. Yes you are.

[Any day after the first] /shoots you too, btw

Re: [Any day after the first] /;A; SO CRUEL

1/2 [Any day after the first] Says the mun who CUT OFF HER OC'S HEAD

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Re: [Any day after the first] oh come on, it's like, canon at this point for him

[Any day after the first] 8|| /judges you anyway

Re: [Any day after the first] Bah, he's been blown up by landmines, he's fine with this

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Re: [Any day after the first] wait this reply makes more sense :|a

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