Ancestor RP

Fajukara had, luckily, stumbled onto a series of caves during one of his many travels, his uniform wrecked and tattered by the sand storms that frequent the desert. With him, are a number of tattered, worn books, untitled and otherwise look uninteresting. This can not be said about the book in his sandy lap, which he scribbles another rant into it. He is an otherwise non-noteworthy person, besides the fact that his dark, tangled hair reaches his hip, and a dark scar going across his face, seemingly cutting it in half. The low blood rambles as he writes, stuck in his own little world while inside this cave.

The stone that blocks the most obvious entrance to the cave - deeply carved with an ancient symbol - is shoved aside, and pink moonlight spills into the cave. A silloette stretches across the floor, a curvy, but quite short woman with slightly-tangled thigh-length curls and high, curving horns. A slight red glow eminates from the female's face, her bionic eyes taking in the scene as clear as daylight.

The lengthy man perks his head up as the stone is moved aside, soon afterwards he flies off to some random direction, the unfamiliarity of the said cave makes his efforts of escape come up short, making him put his back up against the wall, and the novel in his hand raised up, as if he was to use it as a weapon. He hisses slightly, his face lightly obscured by a pair of thorns that curl downwards.

She enters and shoves the stone closed, effectively trapping him. There's the hiss of steel on steel as she draws the sword at her hip. "Sssstate your bussssinessss." Holy goddamn shit she hisses!!!

He narrows his gaze, the book lowering as if to mimic the intruder. This is your cave after all, you found it first. "I don't need to state my gog damn business, this is MY shelter!" The writer can't think of anything creative for him, sadly.

Fire rings him, lighting the figure. Her black military uniform is unbroken, but she opens the collar and withdraws a necklace. The pendant that dangles from it has a ruby the size of her eye set in gold, with the same symbol carved into it. "No, it'ssss my hive. ECHKssssplain yoursssself or die." She weilds a straight, double-edged sword with a hilt that looks suspiciously like a bulge.

His arms shoot up the moment the fire surrounds him, trying to make sure his fine book doesn't burn to ash. With a quick look at the pendant, the uniform, then back to the small troll, and tosses the book at her face. He covers his eyes, and tries to dive out of the ring of fire, making a run for the boulder blocking his escape.

Lasers fire from her eyes, turning his fine book to ash even as she dashes after him, grabbing for a fistful of his likely flaming hair.

His smoldering locks are easily grabbed, halting his escape before he could even get out the door "You're lucky... I only started that one." His face cringes, while his voice strains only slightly.

She yanked back, trying to force him to his knees so she doesn't have to look at him. "You sssshouldn't have throw it if you didn't want it desssstroyed." The fire vanishes, leaving the only light in the cave her eyes once again. Her face isn't pretty, but it's damn near aristocratic.

He is forced to the ground with ease, his knees buckling from under him "I shouldn't expect someone to come bustin' in with gog damn lasers comin' out of her eyes." He snarls, his jagged teeth showing off a gentle white glow, damn he takes good care of them "I'm here to hide and work. To deny me work is only letting them win!"

She grinned back savagely, staring down at him and letting her blade rest across his throat. "I sssshould kill you now and ssssave mysssself the trouble of hunting you down later." She laughed suddenly. "The cave wassss ssssealed with a ssssymbol acrossss it and had fressssh ssssupliessss, it would be ridiculoussss to think it wassss unoccupied."

With a slight glance away from the troll, his nasty eyes meet her once more "I only just arrived... If you are to kill me, madam, you'll only find your spot on the chopping block soon enough! They will get rid of you once they are done with you, it's only a matter of time!"

She laughed bitterly. "Oh no, I've proven my loyalty too often for that. My desssscendant issss guarenteed a life unmolessssted." If she can manage to maintain a matesprit or kismesis long enough to reproduce, at least. "And I'm the only one who can take on Taranissss."

Growling, he lowers a hand into his tattered jacket, only to pull out a symbol, one that slightly resembles one of the branches of Her Imperial Condescesion. "You say that now, but you wait. Your sweeps are numbered, as are mine."

She laughed again, just as bitter, then abruptly released him, and kicked him in the small of the back as she withdrew her sword. It leaves a cut, but it's not deep enough to do more than sting like a damn bitch and bleed heavily.

He hits the ground with a thud, a hand instinctively going up to put pressure onto the cut, while it leaks out a thick, brown blood. He sits himself up, his back to the boulder, and stares up at the troll, and her damn freaky eyes.

She stares down at him, then pulls a cloth from one of her innumerable pockets and begins to clean her sword off, before sheathing it and staring down at him. Her eyes glow red, and a shine just touches her innumerable shark-like teeth.

He continues to stare back, breaking eye contact only to rip off a piece of his jacket, using it to keep pressure on the wound, and hopefully spilling less blood everywhere. The eerie silence only grows.

She continues to stare at him. "I will have to kill you, eventually."

His eyes roll at that "There is plenty more after my head. You have competition. Maybe I'll just go out at sunrise, and have myself be devoured by the dead. Then, the search will never end!"

That earns him another laugh. "Do it then, if you're sssso brave." She challenges him, a smirk just touching her features, hinting at what she'd look like smiling.

He scoffs "It isn't my sort of death, madam. I'd rather go out with a bang, or with a laugh, or with a battle cry. Suicide is only the cowards way out." He bushes his hair aside, lest it be dirtied by his own blood.

Something in her demeanor seems to change, a spark of respect perhaps? "Yessss, it issss."

He raises an eyebrow, studying the odd troll, never bothering to get up "What's the matter, is the lady now devoid of her daily entertainment?"

"No, the lady issss conssssidering if sssshe sssshould throw you out now, or in the evening."

"Heh, I can just as easily roll the boulder out of it's way once more!" A prideful grin is etched onto his face "Or I can pummle it until it turns to dust, either way."

She laughed abruptly at that, a genuine laugh. "Oh, caaaaaaaaaan you?" She drug it out, smirking down at him still, then abruptly lit one of the small fires she'd left prepared inside the cave. It's his first glimps of her in non-blinding light, and... holy shit. Her hair falls around her like a cloak, and though her face could never be called pretty, it might be handsome in a delicate kind of way. Her outfit seems to eat the light, just like her hair does - a Specterminator, at her finest. Her horns are almost delicate, but intact indicate her skills - no one's been able to snap one off.

The man in his tattered uniform only stares some more... though, I highly doubt he's still looking at her head. With a shake of his head, he grumbles back "Yes, I can! I've fought many a thing tougher than this... boulder." He turns his head to face the said boulder, while his hand retreats from his neck, to find the wound still bleeding. Not a heavy bleed, but still substantial. He tries to get up onto his feet, proping himself against the wall, his horns scratching against the cave wall "I didn' find any supplies, regardless. How someone can live here, without gettin' lost, I have no clue."

She shrugged. "My lussssussss wassss ssssleeping with them, you'd be dead if you had found them anywayssss." She looks at him as well, knowing full well that trolls bleed like there's nothing under their skin but blood.

"Good for your lusus, then." He scoffs, as he sort of stumbles out of the door way, before falling back onto the ground with a soft thud "Fuckin'... ugh." His free hand rubs his face gently, his vision trying to best him. It's doing a damn good job.

"How many dayssss ssssince you lasssst sssslept or ate?" Her voice sounds impassive.

He crosses his one arm on his chest "It doesn't matter, I don' sleep. It's only a calling card to be murdered." His voice, however, sounds a bit snappy, or bitter.

"You can't be sssstrong without ssssleep, idiot."

"I can' be strong if I am dead." He sighs, looking away from the other troll. What a moody boy, I swear.

She laughed at that, turning and heading into the twisting caverns without waiting to see if he follows.

He stares at the passage for a second, before summoning up the strength to follow her, leaving a trail of muddy blood drops behind him. He can barely walk in a straight line, and his stumbling feet can be heard echoing across the cavern.

She leads him to one of the few actual doors in there, and punches in a code. The door opens, revealing a simply massive cavebeast - bear, to the highbloods - sleeping soundly in front of a shockingly large stockpile of food and fresh water, not that the lake in the main cave wasn't quite fresh as well.

After laying eyes on the giant cavebeast, he stumbles backward and falls flat on his ass, an expression of surprise clear on his face. It takes him a while to even recognize the said stockpile "Gog... did the cave get built around it?"

She laughed a bit at that. "No, sssshe'ssss jusssst that fat." Ana walked in, completely unafraid, and gathered up a basket of delicacies, bringing them out with it draped over her arm.

He scoots backwards to avoid being stepped on. Apparently, the floor is all too comforting to give up "... What are you doin' now?" His eyes lock onto the other troll, not sure what to think at the moment.

"Food, dumbassss." She shuts the door behind her and heads toward the main cavern, then pauses to point at one of the pots lining the wall. "Grab one of the big onessss."

With a snerk, he follows suit, taking his sweet time to push himself up against the cave wall. He falls quickly back to the ground the moment he reaches the main chamber, but doesn't reach for the food. Though, he eyes it with devious intentions.

She takes the food with a yawn and stretch, then gets water from the lake to start boiling up a quick soup.

He watches her as she wanders about, a small huff escaping him as he studies her. His thoughts run rampant in his mind. Is she trying to poison me? Is she just waiting to torture me? She'll have to try better than that, heheh.

She sits down, stirring in the various ingredients into the soup calmly. "... AnaCHKssssandra."

He scoffs, as his eyes stay focused on the troll "You are givin' the dead man the name of his executioner? Heh, heheh." I don't know what's amusing about this, but apparently it is.

She snorted at him. "Conssssidering I'm feeding him firsssst, might assss well." She shrugged, flicking one of the tentacleshrimp for the soup at him. Ohgod these are serious delicacies, highly expensive for landdwellers... but the mountain's right on the sea.

He snatches it out of the air with his clean(er) hand, staring at it for a second, then back to the troll. After some careful considering, he figures it's worth dying for sea food. Before he can pop the shrimp into his mouth, he grunts, as a pair of fresh teeth prod through his gums, making his face cringe in pain. Three of these fresh teeth go past his lower lip, on the right side... gog damn he looks goofy now. "Fffor fffuck sake..." A faint trickle of blood escapes from his lips, followed shortly by another sigh.

She snickers at him, watching in amusement. "Heh. Knocked 'em out, did you?" She munches one of them herself, watching the soup to make sure it doesn't start to burn.

He only admits under a grumble "It's ffffuckin' annoyin'. Ffffuckin' pieces of musclebeast turd."

"I hope not literally."

He cocks his head to the side, holding the blood soaked cloth with his shoulder as he crosses the dirty arm under him, brushing his blood against his black shirt "You are hilarious, I ffffuckin' swear." He wipes away the brown trail of fluid, before popping the tentacleshrimp into his mouth.

She grinned at him. "Yessss, I know."

Swallowing, he remembers to check the problematic cut, seeing that it finally clotted it. He tosses the bloody rag away, it hitting the ground with a wet smack. His eyes glare towards Ana "Your cut ffffailed. Unless you dip your blade in some sort offf slow acting poison..."

"If I wassss going to kill you, you wouldn't be alive." She grinned wickedly. "I wassss jusssst weakening you."

He hums softly, as he pushes himself off of the floor. Slowly, and carefully, he goes to find his stack of books, left not too far away from his trapper. Quietly, he flips through the pages, making sure that none are too badly damaged. With every rip and every burn, he shakes his head, trying to recall how it went before nature fucked it over. After a while, he looks back up to Ana "Ifff you are trying to weaken me, you have also ffffailed miserably."

She laughed at that. "Ssssayssss the troll who can barely walk." She pulled her hair over one shoulder, pulling a golden ribbon from her sylladex and starting to wind it around to control her hair a bit better. "Burnt your bookssss, have you?"

"It wasn't my ffffuckin' choice, you know..." He stares back down at his novels, some barely thick enough to get the title of novel, while some were as thick as his fist. "Plus, the ffffuckin' desert didn' help a bit."

She snorted. "Library'ssss down that tunnel," she pointed, "three openings down on the right, take the second left. You'll walk into the firsssst bookcasssse."

He wraps his filthy hands around the books, pushing them tight against his chest "You wouldn' have any offff these. They are one offff a kind."

"Are they?" She looks mildly interested.

His eyes narrow a bit, the grip growing even tighter "Yes, they're mine. I write."

"Sssso do I."

"I doubt you'd like my taste. It's not ffffit ffffor the 'upper class'." He scoffs, bitterly amused by his own words.

"My orginalssss aren't either, but they get publisssshed once I change the namessss." Almost, but not quite, admitting to blackmail.

He raises an eyebrow at this, straigthening himself out a bit "Oh? And would you happen to have a fffew of these? The dead troll is morbidly curious."

"I would, actually. In the library." She smirked a little. "Or the one I'm working on now. A new sssseriessss.

Perking up a bit, he rises to his feet, stumbling down the tunnel Ana earlier pointed at. He pauses, turning around to ask "Third openning... right?"

"Third on the right, then ssssecond on the left." She nodded.

He nods in return, thinking he'd rather die around liturature instead of the snotty, upper class girl. What a crazy troll he is. He left his books behind, however, forgetting them once more.

Ana scoots over and picks them up to read, curiously. When he finds hers, well, she's got very well-written epic romances... with very detailed sex scenes.

If she's looking for romances, she'll be highly dissappointed. One of the thickicker novels details a story about a lone troll, who is caught in the wake of a change within society. He is one of the unlucky trolls who happen to have the now symbol of poverty and incompetance; stubby, small horns. It depicts his struggle trying to fit in, and the action he takes when he figures enough is enough. Fajukara, however, either seems to have gotten himself lost, or he is too busy browsing the smut for something... other than smut.

She flips through it, then checks the next one. There doesn't seem to be anything other than smut - what's this?! A hidden shelf?

The next book, smaller than the last, seems to be... oh gog. It's not a book at all, it's his journal. It's hard to read, as the sand and fire took the most out of this one, but there are a few juicy tidbits here and there, one about one fancy blue blood, another about blowing up hives, another about getting with the fancy blue bloods. Damn. After finding this hidden shelf, he tries to skim through it, a small little grin growing on his lips.

Anaxandra's journals are... interesting. She's had her heart and spade broken so often... She practically devours the journal, curious and getting ideas for her next novel.

There do seem to be a few worthy notes of him trying to attract the attention of a certain drone, but... he seems to drop off the map after a small entry that just states 'Boom.' But there is plenty, plenty of his stories of trying to 'convert' others to his cause. His juicy, t- wait, where was he going with this? Faju keeps on flipping through the pages, a few snickers slipping out of his lips.

She tilts her head, stirring the soup occasionally. Anaxandra's loves are swift and flushed like moonlight, while her hates are deep and darker than an ocean trench... and yet they always fail. She lamets the slaughter she's had to do upon them, and dwells on her current black romance... which she admits, to her diary, is clearly failing because they keep calming eachother down, damnit! She also includes notes to her unknown descendant, tips and tricks to see her through this violent society.

Even though he had plenty of relations, he never notes of anything meaningful after the drone, which is either sad or down right weird. His last entry states on how his hive was ransacked, and how he has to brave the wilderness. However, in the library... Fajukara takes out his pen, and writes a small little note in the diary, simply stating 'FucK ThE HemospectruM'. What a dastardly man, he is.

Ana shrugged, putting the books back and checking on the soup, then moves to stirr it. "IT'SSSS READY!" Oh dear gog is the mountain shaking? A book bonks him on the head.

The single falling book makes the troll duck and cover his head, curling up as if the very mountain was going to fall ontop of him. Gog damn that troll. After realising he isn't quite dead yet, he strolls out of the library, putting the journal in some haphazard place. Running his hands over the scar, he pops back into the main chamber, taking a seat infront of the lake.

Anaxandra ladels out soup for both of them, passing him one of the bowls. She's not fancy enough for spoons.

He stares at the soup for a moment, nudging it with his hand. He then turns to Ana, and simply asks "Why are you doin' this?"

"Becausssse I am." She shrugged, sipping hers happily. She's a good cook.

He still stares at the soup, watching the steam rise from it "You say you are going to have to cull me anyway, so why bother ffffeedin' me?"

She stares at him, eyes narrowed. "Becausssse I don't have orderssss to kill you yet, and there'ssss no ssssensssse in jumping the gun, assss it were." She tilts her head back and slurps it down. Her table manners are almost as bad as Lohqua's.

He swallows his pride after that response, and silently takes a drink from his soup. But after that one taste, it was gone in just a few moments.

She re-fills their bowls, there's even enough left for thirds! Hell yeah.

As soon as the bowl is within reach, he easily chugs the soup down. Gog damn, this was the best meal he has had in too long. He wipes his mouth off with his sleeve (bloodying up his face in the process), and happily sighs, forgetting both time and place.

Ana snorts in amusement and fills their bowls a third time, sipping this one more slowly and chewing one of the shrimp thoughtfully. There's chunks of different fish in there too, and a few herbs were sprinkled in to keep the flavor from being bland.

Fajukara does the same in some matter, taking his time chewing the varity of fish that populate the stew. And after that was finished, he falls backward onto the cave ground, and closes his eyes, finally able to relax after all of his travels. He even forgets about the woman who just tried to kill him earlier.

She watches his face, a bit amused, and leans back against the wall, softly putting the bowl down.

While on the ground, he stretches out with a loud grunt, his neck cracking several times before he lays back down, still plenty oblivious.

She wonders idly if he's going to fall asleep, and lets the fire burn a bit brighter, as trolls find light to be a soporific.

His thoughts do seem to be drifting off, as his eyes start to fall. Before that, however, he sits himself up one last time, and seems to push the bowl towards Ana, and says a simple "Thanks." Before resting on the rock floor.

She shrugged, waiting until he's laying down again to reply. "You're welcome." She drifts off down one of the other tunnels, climbing up and up through the twisting passages until she finds the simple chamber where her old recoon is stored, and curls up on the floor next to it.

Has she wanders off, Fajukara slowly, and silently, sits himself up, trying to be as gentle as he can as he reaches for his books. He then begins to crawl towards the entrence door way, and pushes on the boulder, trying to make it move out of the damn way.

The boulder seems stuck, had she done something to it?!

He keeps pushing though, he's a trooper alright. With a huff, he slides down the boulder, looking down towards Ana's path. Just as silently as before, he creeps his way down the hallway... but has no idea where the hell to go. So, he just peaks into different rooms until he finds something!

He finds what's essentially a closet, full of various clothes from her wriggling days - somebody liked sundresses to the exclusion of almost all else, except for sportsclothes, most with rips indicative of swordfighting.

He stumbles out of that room after plenty of snooping, and trying to find the pendant with that odd symbol on it. He then wanders to a completely different room, having no real method to all of this madness.

No such luck, Anaxandra hadn't removed it. Next he stumbles into a room with her old practice swords.

With a sigh, he wanders around the room with no luck. He does, however, pick up one of the practice swords, and swings them around. He nearly gives himself a hair cut numerous times, and I'm pretty sure he almost beheaded himself. Thank gog they aren't sharp. After entertaining himself, he goes off to find another room. Hell, maybe he can find something interesting to steal.

Instead, he finds Anaxandra sleeping on a pile of her own hair and her lusus' shed fur. Snoring loudly.

He looms over the snoring troll, crouching down to check to see if the necklace is still attached, and where. He almost contemplates a number of other things, which is only subduded by the lack of... a quick option of ending it. He just sighs, and continues his little search of the little troll.

The necklace is still around her neck, it's gorgeous craftmanship. She sighs in her sleep and latches onto him like he's a plush.

With a shocked grunted, he stiffens up, trying to wiggle his way out of the woman's grasp. But, sadly, it seems like his hands are latched to his side, and escape is merely just a dream now. He hangs his head, sighing just soft enough to be audible. His luck sucks, doesn't it?

Ana grunts in her sleep and snuggles up to him, even though she's actually warmer than he is. There's no way she's higher than he is!

Whining, he tries to bend his neck and nibble on his shoulder, but not even he is that flexible. Unless he could break his own neck, but then he'd have to worry about that instead. All he can do now is just keep his eyes away, and hope he doesn't get hugged to death.

She rolls over on top of him. For all her STRENGTH, she's quite squishy and might even be nice to hold.

He admits defeat slowly, his head  now resting against Ana's, his hands wrapping around her waist to... hug back. Dear gog this is embarassing.

She practially purrs, nuzzling against him and falling into an even deeper sleep. Huh, she is indeed built for snuggling.

Fajukara stares at the necklace one more time before giving the small troll another squeeze. It's... enjoyable, yes, but he hopes no one ever sees this. His rep will be ruiiiiined!

*~* THE NEXT MORNINGEVENING *~*

Ana yawned widely when she woke, snuggling closer to the warm thing.

Wait. Warm thing. "Nnnghulmurph?"

He was just about to doze off, and that cute little... whatever that noise was, jolted him right back up.

Ana stared at him, eyebrows raising. "... The Fuck?"

"... Hey, you started it. I was just trying to ffffind a place to sleep."

"You were assssleep when I left."

"You thought I was asleep when you lefffft." Wait, that didn't help his case...

"You were ssssneaking around looking to ssssteal thingssss!!" She's a bright one, and sits up, unconsciously stradling his hips.

"I was not! I was looking ffffor, uh... a switch or something, to let me out offff this cave!" Well, it wasn't a total lie, to be truthful. His arms shoot away from the troll.

She crossed her arms, glaring down at him from her position almost directly on top of a rather delicate region of anatomy.

He meets her glare, before flailing his arms in a matter that is best left up the the imagination "What?!"

"You." She hissed. "Are pathetic, and the worssssssssssssssssst liar I have ever had the misssssssssfortune of meeting."

"And you are the worst impersonator of a scalebeast I have laid my loathesome eyes on."

"IMPERSSSSSSSSSSONATER? SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSCALEBEASSSSSSSSSSSST?" Her fist flies for his nose.

With a grunt, and a soundly crack, he is clocked right in the face. Ooooohhhh shit. After that one punch, he sends his right hand flying towards her jaw, trying to launch himself out of this vulnerable position.

She grunts and spits out a tooth, and grabs hold of his hair with an incoherent screetch, yanking and wailing on him with the hand not knotted in his hair.

He puts up his hands to block a few of the punches, while his legs try to kick up and hit her back. His arms are quite resiliant, oddly enough, as they haven't been turned to dust yet.

Ana continues snarling and screaming incoherently, before her fist flies for his guts instead, even as he manages to roll them over.

With a short wince, his right arm goes to cover his gut, while the other hand goes to grab a hold of Ana's curles. He in turn tries to straddle onto her, with one hand holding onto her horns, and the other raining blows onto her nice, fancy face.

She writhes under him, clawing and punching as well. He manages to set her nose bleeding, covering his fist and her face with gold blood, even as she brings a knee up for his groin hard.

He lets out a harsh cough, as he loses grip on her horns, and bows his head a bit, in pain from that last shot. He throws a punch to her jaw again, though a good part of his energy was siphoned from that one shot.

She yanked his hair visciously, trying to get on top again so she can rip his still-beating heart from his chest! Her face looks even worse than before with her shiny-gold blood. It actually looks like her blood is made of liquid gold.

He puts up his arms in struggle, his face smeared with a muddy mix of his and Ana's blood. He digs his nails into her elbows, trying to bend them inwards. It's easier said than done.

She's got a fist coiled hard in his hair and seems to ignore his efforts, clawing at his chest with her free hand.

While he tries to stop the crazy troll from clawing out his putrid hard, he reels back his head and headbutts Ana, square in the forehead.

She's surprised and knocked back, but yanks him with her, ending up kneeling with her thighs to either side of his, and reeling just a bit from the blow. Oww. Delicate horns haven't left her with a thickened skull for protection.

He takes this time to grab a clumpful of hair, and yanks her head up to his, speaking in a fierce, yet calm demeanor "All I wanted, was to ffffucking, get the ffffuck out offff your gog damn hair, you stupid highbrow wriggler. That's, ffffucking, all."

She snarled at him, turning her head to spit out a mouthful of her own blood. "Idiot. There'ssss a latch."

He grabs her by the jaw, making her stare at him "You see, ifff that was all you had to ffffucking say, then get it out of that mess you call a mouth and fffffucking say it!"

She snaps at his fingers and oh JEGUS daggerteeth! "If you couldn't find it on your own there'ssss no way you could fucking open it on your own you irredeemable sssshitssssssstain!" She sends another punch for his gut.

With a curse, he pulls his hand away from those shark fangs, sending the hand flying back to her face to add more gold to her face. His gut takes the hit, making nudge back a bit, but he stays stoic in his position "You are the irredeemable one, you fffucking traitor! You aren't deserving offff the gog damn blood that fffflows in that acursed body!"

"TRAITOR?" Oh gog it's even louder when you're right in front of her, and the bookshelf in the room falls across the door with a loud clatter, and the entire cave definitely shakes. She goes for his throat this time.

He yells back in response, "YES, FffffUCKIN' TRAITO-" That last letter never left his lips the moment Ana grabbed his neck, retaliating with a few extra punches to her cheeks.

She doesn't seem to notice, squeezing his neck and digging her claws into it. "I'm going to cull you ssssssssssssslowly." She snarls at him. "I will watch your lasssssst fear-sssssssssweetened moments asssssssss your breath diessssssss in your lungssssssssss and the fight diesssssssss in your eyesssssssssssss!"

And while Ms Dragon makes her speech, his hands wrap around the girl's wrist, squeezing down with all of his might to break it, all the while delivering knees to her gut, trying to force her out of breath.

She ignores the blows, determined to either choke him to death or rip his throat out. He can feel the tendons in her wrist and arm, the strong muscles of a professional swordswoman.

Losing precious time, he goes for something... different for him. With his last ounce of energy, he gives up his position ontop of Ana to wrap his legs around her arm, using all of his body to try and break the girl's arm before she either rips out his throat, or just strangles him to death. His hands still try to break the troll's hardened wrists, with little ground gained.

She releases his throat, trying to avoid getting her arm broken, and tries to slam her elbow into his groin at the same time, snarling with rage. Her eyes seem slightly unfocused.

He lets go the moment she does, narrowly missing the elbow to the groin (and instead just takes it to the knee, which probably hurts just as much).

She pulls away, cradling her injured arm but still not giving up her grip on his hair... Actually, at this point, she can't, she's tangled in his hair up to her elbow.

He tries to straddle back into position, throwing his elbows into Ana's teeth, now just aiming to maim the girl as much as possible before he can't fight anymore.

She throws up an arm to protect her face this time, yanking his head around with it.

Grunting loudly, he focuses his attention elsewhere, wailing his fist down onto her chest. His fists are now bleeding his own muddy blood everywhere, making it fly in every which way.

She grabs for his wrists, trying to pin him down under her and snarling nigh-incoherent profanity like any gutterblood.

When his wrists are grabbed, he goes for another headbutt, winding it up like always before delivering the concussive blow.

She ducks her head against his chest when he goes for it, yanking hard against his hair to try and slow it. At this point she's going to yank his damn hair out!

Oh no, she is not pulling the hair out. After missing, he lets out  termendous string of curses, before going for her optics, trying hard to claw those fake eyes out.

She snarls and presses her face against his shoulder, biting into it and yanking harder, a growl vibrating through them both.

He locks one arm over the girl's neck, now using the leverage to deliever a few dreaded kidney and rib punches.

She sinks her teeth into him hard enough to draw blood, trying to weaken his arm and threatening to take a chunk out of it entirely if he continues injuring her and breaking her concentration. The taste of blood in her mouth doesn't bother her.

Knowing that this isn't getting him anywhere, he lets go of her head, and instead tries to break open the side of her head with a few short, heavy punches to the side of the skull. He is too absorbed into the action to whine or complain.

She bites through, unintentionally swallowing it and immediately hurking. Ohgoddidshereallyjust-?!

With a loud, painful yell, he lets out one final punch to the skull, pushing that freak who just ate a piece of him.

That makes her reel back, making it even worse when she doubles over and voids her digestive sacs on him, and promptly spends the next several minutes vomiting and dry heaving.

Covering his own mouth to keep himself from gagging, he backs away to.... ugggh, take his vomit soaked jacket off, using it to wipe his clothing clean. Dear gog that was uncalled for. Ignoring the giant mouth-sized gap in his shoulder, he sends a kick to the side of Ana while she's doubled over.

She doesn't even respond, shuddering in pain and still vomiting bile. Oh gods. Oh gods. So disgusting. So unrefined.

With an expression of utter disgust, he puts his foot on her back, pushing her down into her own bile "I ffffeel ashamed to be ffffrom the same caste as you. All just another reason, to snuffff it the ffffuck out."

She snarls weakly at him, holding herself up out of it as best she can, and abruptly rolling out from under him. Yay special ops training. Even though she's weak as a kitten, she's not going to stay in a position that repulsive. That and her digestive acids are still eating away at the rather large chunk of him she bit out.

He's trying his very best to keep his mind off of that gog-awful burning sensation, as he narrowly avoids slipping into the same filth as the damn gold blood. With a harsh hiss, he bends down to grab a wad of her hair, and grabs a hold of the necklace around her... well, neck, and tries to yank it off of her.

She shifts slightly, then slams her foot into his instep and tries to yank her necklace back with a snarl. "NOT ON YOUR FUCKING LIFE!"

With a quick yelp, he retaliates and sends a fist flying straight out to her skull, briefly letting go of the necklace to do so "SHUT YOUR FffffUCKING MOUTH!"

There's a sickening shattering sound and an ear-and-heart-rending screetch from her as the blow shatters her left horn. It's as delicate as it looks, and as the remainder hits the ground, it shatters into a million glass-like shards. Gold blood pours from the sensitive material. A litany of curses and pain-noises escapes her, and almost unnoticably, tears streak down her bloodied face. Oh jegus oh jegus.

With a satisfied huff, he bends down to pick up a small piece of horn, pocketing it into his pants' pocket, a wicked grin growing wide on his blood splattered face "Heh... ifff you don't mind me, I got a latch to ffffuckin' find." He stumbles towards the exit, with an obvious limp... and stopped when he saw the fuck-huge bookcase blocking it.

Ana collapsed, mind fuzzy, essentially unconscious. She gathers the last of her strength and drags herself into the recuperacoon, to allow the slime to heal her. She knew there was a reason she kept the stupid thing around.

As he stares at the bookcase, he finally realises that his arm was missing a large chunk out of it, the pain growing more and more unbareable every growing second. "Ffffucking..." He delievers a few kicks to the said structure, trying to figure out how solid it truely is before doing something stupid.

It's quite solid, carved from a single piece of wood - a good chunk of the royalties from some of her earlier works went into it.

He heaves out a sigh, as he takes his good arm to dig all of the books and whatever else may be inside it before ushering enough effort to pull it out of the door way. However, he flat out gives up half way through.

Ana finally falls unconscious, curled up in a painful, gold-leaking ball in the slime. There's room for two, if he wants to fight again when they're no longer unconscious.

As his exhausted body slides down the cave wall, leaving a brown, bloody trail behind him, he eyes the recoon with envy. He wants to just inch a bit closer, but he knows that he'll die before he wakes up. He just sits there, going over the events in his head. Gog, he's fucked isn't he?

*~*AN INDETERMINATE AMMOUNT OF TIME LATER*~*

Ana slowly wakes to pain everywhere. Her horn, her face, her chest and stomach and arm... A half-strangled groan of agony escaped her. Why the hell wasn't she dead? Even the numbing slime left her shaking and sweating in pure agony and she felt ready to retch. Fuck. Concussion. This isn't good. What the hell happened?

Fajukara lays there, against the wall, shivering heavily and sweating even more so. His shirt has been ripped off to act as a makeshift cover for the large hole, and his face isn't in any better shape, decorated with scratches and cuts which stopped bleeding so many hours ago. Everything just feels like pain, suffering, and pure torment. All because of a damn insult.

She tries to sit up and cries out with pain. It's not the screetches of earlier, it's just a weak cry of agony. She collapses back into the slime, sobbing from pain.

Faju just keeps staring ahead, at the puddle of mess that stands before him. Nothing going through his mind but the burning terror that assaults his flesh. He can't even be bothered to let out a single cry of pain.

She's forgotten he's there, and would try not to cry if she knew he was there... but it's obvious from the sobs there's no way she's strong enough to fight him off if he pulls himself into the healing slime... and she's probably far too weak to even lob some of the slime at him.

He's trying his hardest to ignore Ana, as he turns his head to stare at the huge block of wood blocking his exit. He tries to push it away again with one arm, but he just slides to the ground, landing in his dried blood that littered his surrounding area.

What was that noise? She tries to say something, but it's too garbled to really make sense.

He lifts his head just slightly, as a hand shoots out towards the recoon, but it just makes a pathetic thud. A slow sigh just barely escapes from him.

She yelped in shock, hudding away from the noise. Jegus she feels like a grub again, frightened by noises and pain.

Like a scene out of a horror movie, the battered man starts to drag himself over to the recoon, his bare skin scarping up against the cold stone floor. More sighs and grunts trail out as he sets out to reach his destination.

Ohgogohgogohgog what is that? She tilts her tear-and-blood-streaked face up, watching for whatever it is.

The scrapping noise stops as he grinds to a halt, the simple action of crawling taking more out of him than it should. He props his head up with his horns, scanning the room for any predators as he rested in no-mans-land.

No predators, just bodily fluids, a half-digested chunk of him, a lot of books, some hair, and a recuperacoon. Oh and the silent occupant of the recoon.

After his short and ever pathetic rest, he trudges onward, slowly, but surely, reaching the recuperacoon. He props his back against it, resting and saving his strength for the real challenge.

Ana waits, trepedation on her face. So much blood, and a ginger checking drives a pain noise from her again - oh gog, shattered horn, oh gog.

His head makes a loud thump up against the recoon, a rattling sigh crawling out of him. Should he even bother? He's already missing part of his shoulder, why bother trying to heal up if you'll just be culled in the evening? A faint trail of brown blood drips from his neck, the crawling reopenning his wounds.

A squeak escaped her, what the hell is going on out there?

Another thud followed, as his chest bounces off of the recuperacoon, his good arm reaching desperately for the openning, to no avail. As he gets to his knees, he just barely grasps a tight hold onto the hole... but no other progress was made. He simply is too weak to continue.

She can see his hand, and stares for a moment, before reaching up with her good arm - jegus she sounds like an injured pawbeast - and grabs his wrist to pull him in, slowly.

With the very last bit of energy, he pushes his legs forward, and lets himself be pulled into the recoon, which he greatfully falls head first into, leaving a brown, muddy trail behind him.

She stared at him, frowning, and tried to figure out who the hell he was and why he looked familiar.

He doesn't even bother to look at the helping hand who most likely saved his life, he's too tired to function, too tired to even care about who she is, what she does, and why she ripped out a chunk of him and ate it.
[HOMESTUCK]
Her head dropped against the thick slime and she groaned softly, curling up again. At least there's someone here, even if she has no idea why they're both so injured.

Faju mimics her, curling up into a little, bloody ball the pain gradually takes control over him. His neck, should, face, chest, it was all just too damn much. Especially for one damn day.

She watched him for a moment, before falling unconscious again.

*~*THE NEXT EVENING*~*

Fajukara, with an undeniably painful grunt, shifts out of the small gray ball he's spent most of the past few days in, his joints screaming out at him in pure agony. Floating in goo and blood, he slowly comes to terms with his surroundings... all except for the other, smaller, gray ball. Unless that's one of his limbs. Dear gog he hopes it isn't. He'd check but his mind is too hazy to function, for now.

The other ball shifts, and lets out a tiny sound. Definitely not a limb! She slowly moves, head still fuzzy from the concussion, but she isn't in lay-there-and-bawl levels of pain anymore at least.

Lazily, he stares at the other gray ball, shifting around before a sharp pain shoots through his shoulder, a hiss escaping from him. Gog, it feels like a thousand spikes being jammed into every nerve... and he just tries his best to suck it up.

She spots him and swallows another pained sound, and squints at him. "... Wh-" she coughs, and her voice is rough and scratchy. "... Who are you?"

With a hack, he shifts in the goo before even trying to responed "I... fffuckin', uh... Faja somethin'... I think." Thinking through pain isn't the greatest way to give answers, honestly.

"Ana..." She mumbled, scooting over closer to him and wincing. "... What happened?"

He grumbles, his eyes barely open as he watches the other move closer "I don' ffffuckin' know... all I know is that I got ffffucked up..."

She nodded a little, shuddering a little in pain, and laid still again. "All right. Great. Fan-fucking-tassssssssstic."

He shifts inside the goo, his arms crossing over each other to cover his chest "You aren' lookin' so good either, with your one horn."

"Fuck you." She grumbled. "Got a gogdamn concusssssssssion." She lays on her back, wincing in pain.

Rolling his eyes, he turns away from Ana "Well, at least you got two ffffuckin' shoulders..." A lone hand tries to trail through his hair, getting caught in tangles and knots slick with goo and drying blood, causing a gentle whine to escape him.

She winced in sympathy. "Heh. Need a bath." She pokes him very, very lightly, careful not to further injure. "Bet I look a sssssssssssight."

He sighs, shaking his head "I fffuckin' would, but the doorway is blocked... I can't move it with just one arm. Thing is ffffuckin' solid."

She giggles a little at that, wincing from it. "Yeah, that happenssssss ssssssometimesssss. Damn thing'sssssss heavy."

He turns himself over, looking back at Ana "Well... because offff it, we won' be ffffuckin' leavin' ffffor a while. Unless you got an ace in your sleeve."

"Haha." She shook her head. "No, got ssssssome food ssssstassssshed in here, but gotta get ssssssome sssstrength back to do anything."

His head splashes against the goo "So, we're gonna have to stay here fffor..." He stops to think. "... quite a ffffuckin' while, eh?"

"Yeah. Few nightssssss at leasssssst."

"Fffffuckin'..." He grunts, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Pretty much." She agreed, staring at the cieling as well.

*~*THE NEXT EVENING, AGAIN*~*

Faju stirred awake, still facing towards the ceiling, as his hand wipes away the goo off of his eyes. His body ached less, but good gog did his shoulder still hurt, and it looked just as disgusting. He resists the ugre to sit himself up, and instead prods his neighbor with a closed fist "Hey... you ffffeelin' any better yet, one horn?"

"Nrgggglmrph." She bats at his hand, turning over and cuddling into the slime.

With a grunt, he nudges her again "Come on, you have to be ffffeelin' better by now." He's one persistant asshole, that's for sure.

"Sssstick your bonebulge in a sssseassssnake." She grumbled, face pressed into her arms.

"Go shove your horns up a- oh wait..." He scoffs, turning away from Ana.

"Too early..." She whined, curling up again, before her stomach rumbles. She sounds like a bear growling.

He turns his head back to the troll, "What tha ffffuck was that?" He raised his eyebrow, wondering that was either her, or her lusus. He hopes for the former.

"Hungry." She mumbles, curling up tighter.

He shakes his head, almost feeling sorry for the small troll, but he just keeps to his corner of the recoon... Until his own stomach grumbles. When was the last time he ate, again? Gog damn it.

"You too." She shuddered, trying to sit up, but just lets out an agonized, near-retching sound, and flops back into the slime. "Fuck."

Sighing as he watches the pitiful display of Ana's power, he himself tries to sit up. He does so, but he curls back up into a ball, a long groan trembling out of him "Fffffffuuuuck. What the hell..."

"Goddamnit." She starts pulling herself up the side of the recoon, nails digging into the sensitive thing and causing fresh slime to drip from the wounds.

He flops his arms over the entrence of the recoon, trying to get a firm grip on anything, before just sliding back into the slime and splashing down into it. "Gog, this fffffuckin' sucks."

"That'sssss what ssssshe sssssaid." Ana mutters, yelping as she pulls herself halfway out of the recoon.

"Ffffffuck you, wriggler..." He grunts out as he sits himself up again, trying to toss a leg up and over the entrence of the recoon, after securing a grip on it's edge.

"Not a wriggler, sssshitsssstain." She falls out and yowls, more from the awkward landing than real distress.

He works himself onto the top of the recoon, before slidding off one side and hitting the floor with a thud, right onto his side "Ugh... whatever ya are, then." He tries to wipe the goop off of his face, getting the odd green fluid everywhere.

"Nnngh." She hauled herself unsteadily to her feet, wobbling over to a shelf carved into the cave wall itself, and grabs at a metal box.

Apparently, the floor is too comfy for Fajukara, and he refuses to stand up, only tossing a few grunts and curses while he's down.

Ana curses right back, and sits down with the box, opening the container she'd managed to keep intact and pulls out freshly frozen fish.

With more than an ounce of effort, he pushes himself upright with one arm, his back supported by the recoon. "What's that, ffffish or something?"

"Yessssssss." She throws one to him.

His reaction speed isn't quite up to par, and he takes a freshly frozen flounder to the face, a soft thunk resonating from the hit "Fffffuckin' hell!"

She giggled a little, chewing hers happily, warming it enough that it doesn't feel frozen.

Grumbling, he takes the frozen fish in hand, gnawing on it hungrily. He doesn't care if it tastes like ice, he's just glad to have something to eat.

She's just as thrilled, and chows down on it quite happily.

With a sigh, he stares at Ana, devouring the whole fish, bones and all "Eh... this still fffffuckin' sucks."

"Pretty much." She agreed, devouring a second fish.

He eyes the second fish, another grumble trembling out of his gut "... You got an extra ffffish?"

"Yeah." She tosses it over, taking the time to melt it first.

He catches it with his hands, hungrily ripping it to shreds as he lets no one piece go to waste. He really does give low bloods a good stereotype, I swear.

She shook her head, finishing hers off and sighing in relief as the rumbling in her stomach ceased.

Swallowing the last of the fish, he also lets out a soft sigh, taking the time to get himself comfy against the recoon "So... what now?"

"Mmm... dunno. Get sssssome sssstrength back and get out, I guesssss."

He stares forward, finding something pretty interesting over there, apparently. "More ffffuckin' waitin', then? Joy."

"Yeah. There'ssss bookssss to read at leasssst."

With another grumble, "Those aren't books, they're glorifffied smut..."

She picks up a pebble and throws it at him, though she's too weak for it to really hurt. "Fuck you, they're good."

"Smut, smut, smut. There isn't a chapter in them without the protagonist stufffffing bone buldges down her... bluuuuh." He visibly shudders. Apparently, he found one of those novels.

She snickered a little. "Well, yesssss, that wasssss the point of that book." She shrugged. "There isssss actual ssssstory though."

"I'm sure there is." He huffed. "It degrades the novel as a whole. It's not that hard to removed the damn ffffornication, and have a better story in place. Readin' stufffff like that is ffffuckin' borin' anyway."

"You and I will jusssst have to dissssagree." She smirked a little. "I enjoy writing it, and the royaltiessss ssssay trollssss enjoy reading it."

With a roll of the eyes, "It must be a diffffferent sort of 'enjoyment', then. Mine provide a strong and interesting story, yet simple enough ffffor any troll."

"We write to oppossssite drivessss then. You're sssseeking to enlighten, I'm sssseeking to entertain."

"Someone has to teach, and I take that title onto myselffff. To take the burden offff offfff their shoulders, so they can think without worry."

She snorted a little at that, shaking her head.

He snaps his head at her "What? They are in a ffffairly confffusin planet, they need something to aid and guide them!"

"And you think that my novelssss are any lessss insssstructive?" She smirked a little. "They portray actual relationsssshipssss. I ssssusssspect you picked up the one about her..."

"Heh," he scoffs, crossing his arms from under him "they are far too dramatic. Bordering on the improbable. Most of them at least."

"What planet did you grow up on?" She sounds a touch incredulous.

"Obviously, not the one where the one horned trolls come from." He snerks.

"Ssssayssss the troll missssing a chunk of hissss sssshoulder."

He grunts, his eyes away from her "At least I can cover this up..."

"And thissss will grow back."

"Well!" ... And he just shuts up, his 'witty' insults failing to even exit his mouth.

She smirked in triumph, then locked the box back up and slowly started pulling herself back into the recuperacoon.

He keeps his place, waiting for Ana to go back in, which he then unloads a series of creative curses, slapping his face with the palm of his hand.

She laughs at that, curling up on her end of it, sighing in relief.

He fails to make any other noise, as he lays against the recoon. Looks like he's going to be staying up tonight.

*~*THE NEXT EVENING: NIGHT 4?*~*

Ana groaned, then sat and stretched in relief. She's fully healed now, having gotten over the worst of it... except, of course, her poor poor horn.

Fajukara seems to be having a staring contest with the fallen bookcase. He's already lost, numerous times, but he never likes to give up. Surrounding him is an almost eerie silence, and if nobody knew better, he'd probably look pretty damn dead.

Ana pulled herself out of the slime, tied her hair into a mass at the back of her head, then climbed out of the recuperacoon and carefully moves the books so she can shove the bookcase back into place.

He simply blinks as the bookcase unblocks the doorway, staying rather still. It's like he's waiting for Ana's next move, if she's just going to escape, or has the pain only begun?

She looks at him and frowns a bit, seeming to consider him, then shrugs and opens the door. "Don't come to the main cavern for an hour or sssso. I'm wasssshing thissss sssshit off." She closes the door behind her.

He would nod, if she didn't make her escape quick enough. With a heaving grunt, he gets to his feet, lightly limping to the door, and tries to open the door from how he saw her do it. He just hopes that she isn't behind the door waiting for him...

She isn't, and he gets out easily. She's heading unerringly for the main cavern.

He considers his options... try and nab some food away from the lusus, and get culled, get culled in a nastier fashion by the general, or wander the halls again. Though the second option sounds appealing, he instead heads away from the troll, looking for something that wouldn't immediately end his life. What a positive thinker.

He finds her actual ablation chamber. There are very basic facilities - nothing more than a load gaper and a shower, but it's quite obvious she prefers bathing in the lake.

Bleh, nothing worth while here, he assumes. Though, after running his hands through his hair, he reconsiders, and thinks a shower might just be the best option right now.

Ana strips off her now-disgusting suit and ribbon and dives into the lake, splashing around for a bit before she gets down to scrubbing herself clean and seeing about contacting her not-moirail.

He only has his boots and pants left on, both covered in dried blood and vomit, which he kicks off before starting his shower. Good gog that is so needed. The pallet of colors slowly wash off of him, all the while he thinks, 'Why the hell am I not dead yet, why am I covered in vomit... does she have some good shampoo here at least?'

She has to wonder most of the same, but she does indeed have a very lovely range of shampoos. Somebody takes their hair-care seriously.

Thank gog, he thinks. Time to get all of that sand out of his hair, and smell nice while doing it.

Ana starts scrubbing her hair out, sighing in relief at unsliming, unblooding, and untangling the enormous mass. She's never growing it out past her ass again. Jegus. All of the gog-damn hair, too much hair.

He does the same with his own, but audibly cusses as he takes out the tangles. It's like someone lost their damn fist in here. He shoves his head under the shower's, cleaning his face and washing the shampoo out, taking his sweet damn time too. Nothing like a nice hot shower.

She cusses a bit as well, but eventually gets it all worked out, and starts scrubbing the dried bodily fluids and slime off of her body. Ick, ick, ick.

He lets the water do most of the work, only scrubbing when he really has to, otherwise just enjoying a luxery that he rarely recieves these days.

Ana finishes off and just floats in the water, enjoying the soothing feel of floating.

Finished, he turns off the shower and searched for a towel, using it to quickly dry of his limbs and everywhere else. His hair stays soaked, however, as he lets it drip dry. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he procceeds to go down the hallway he... thinks he came from, but instead goes in the other direction.

Anaxandra hums a bit, splashing idly and as graceful as any seadweller.

As he wanders, he finds himself walking into... the main chamber? What the hell is this shit? He doesn't even seem to notice until he walks right into it... oh gog.

Ana doesn't notice him right away, but when she does she shrieks in surprise and dives underwater.

He, in turn, yells out, and dives back into the hallway, his hand securing the towel around his waist. He curses from the said hallway, but it's too mumbled to make out.

She surfaces, treading water and screaming obscinities at him, something about shoving his horns up his peristalic loadchute...

He booms back "WELL, I AM SO GOG DAMN SORRY THAT YOUR FffffUCKING CAVE IS A BIT FffffUCKING COFffff-" He stops himself, and a few seconds later he continues "I AM GOG DAMN SORRY THAT YOUR FUCKING CAVE IS FUCKING CONFUSING!" His voice sounds a bit different, for some reason, a little bit shaky too.

"FUCK YOUR GLUB!" ... Oh dear gog the mouth on this woman.

"FUCK YOUR... GLUB TOO! CRAZY MILITANT..." So creative, so dumb, I feel proud.

"ASSSSHOLE!"

"KNOB SUCKER!"

"BULGEBITING GRUBFUCKER!"

"QUEENFUCKING WRIGGLEREATER!"

"HORRORTERROR TOY!"

"DON'T EVEN GET STARTED ON TOYS, I SAW YOUR SWORD!"

"IT'SSSSSSSS A GOGDAMN DRAGON!"

"MAYBE IT'S THE SIZE OF ONE, BUT KEEP MAKING EXCUSES! IT AMUSES ME!"

"YOU JUSSSST WISSSSH YOURSSSS WASSSS THAT SSSSIZE!!!!"

"YOU JUST WISH YOU HAD ONE, FLAPSUCKER!"

She laughed at that. "SSSSOUNDSSSS LIKE YOU'RE PROJECTING! MAYBE I GUESSSSED WRONG AND YOU ARE A GIRL!"

"I'LL PROJECT MY FIST THROUGH YOUR SKULL IF YOU KEEP IT UP!"

"OOOH, I SSSSTRUCK A NERVE!"

Ana could probably hear the sound of someone beating their head against a cave wall "FUCK, YOU!"

"YOU WISSSSH!"

"I LIKE LIVING IN THE AMOUNT OF SHAME I AM ALREADY IN, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, ASSHOLE!"

She laughs hysterically, then there's some bubbly sounds as she goes under form laughing too hard. She surfaces almost immediately and swims for shore.

He sinks down to the floor, keeping his towel tight around his waist as he crosses his arms, grumbling a number of curses and utter nonsense.

He can see her moving in the faint light, hair down to her calves with the curls weighed down.

He tries to pay no attention to her, focusing on imagining terrible, terrible things onto the troll.

Ana gets a towel and starts toweling off. Holy goddamn shit trolls can actually be shaped like that?

Okay, -now- he is focused on her, not exactly sure what to feel. His eyes love what they are looking at, but his mind still want to see her fall off a cliff, preferably onto spikes.

She wraps the towel around herself and strides towards him. The towel's strained to wrap all the way around her!

He raises an eyebrow at the troll, his grip around himself growing tighter, as if he's waiting to get struck and have yet another brawl break out. Though, it's not like he remembers the brawl right now.

She smirked at him, running a thick comb through her hair. Gah. Trolls should not be allowed to be that adorable.

He continues his stare, not sure wether to run or stay put. She can't murder someone with a comb, right? Besides, he seems to be a bit... lost in thought.

She arches an eyebrow at him, dragging the comb through her insanely long curls carefully.

His stare is interupted by a single blink, followed by a so-blunt-it-hurt "What?"

"What yoursssself."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It meanssss, what are you whatting?"

"Besides the fact that you are looming over me, just combin' your hair like everythin' is just so damn normal?"

"It'ssss physsssically impossssible for me to loom over you."

"Well, I am on the floor. Not exactly givin' me a height advantage here."

She shifted a little, and continued combing her hair. "... Aaaaaand?"

"Well... yeah, I'm fuckin' small right now. So, you are loomin' over me. You're a fuckin' writer, you should know this shit."

She grinned, eyes glowing a bit brighter. "I know, I'm yanking your chain."

He rolls his eyes "So that's what they call it." His cheeks flash a quick shade of brown as he apparently saw something... nice, you could say.

She blinked, then her face flushes gold and she abruptly sits down, taking away that view, but giving him a nice view of her leg, hip, and most of her side. She's got a lot of scars.

He seems to push farther away from Ana, crossing his legs awkwardly as he stares up at the ceiling. His body is oddly clean of scars, now that you mention it, only just a few on his chest and the remarkable one across his face.

She looks and... A smirk escapes her, and she keeps combing her hair, determined to have the better self control.

He whips his head forward, letting his hair flop right into his face to avoid eye contact, as his legs shift again. She could probably hear a few more colorful grumbles, but he sounds more embarassed than anything.

She practically snickers at him, working the tangles out of her hair carefully. Wow. Really curly.

He childishly parts his hair to stare, before remarking "What are you laughin' at, wriggler?" Sounding a bit defensive there, Faju.

She grinned at him visciously, showing off her teeth. Hey, it's a carnivorous, violent species. Mouthfull 'o knives = sexy. "You acting like a grub."

His eye twitches gently, barring his teeth before covering his face back up "You're actin' like a damn spider, me bein' trapped in this gog damn web..." He trails off onto unnoteworthy territory, cursing and babbling.

She snickered. "Now now, if I wassss acting like a sssspider I'd already be eating you." She lets her eyes trail down his chest and towards his lap.

His arms fall from his chest, now settling in his lap... boy, he's acting a little bit weird, huh? "Maybe that's why I was covered in vomit. Don't like the taste of your prey, hmm?"

That makes her outright laugh. "Hah! Maybe I took that chunk out of your sssshoulder."

Almost instinctively, he grabs his shoulder, a small scoff escaping him "Gold blooded, cannibalistic, and yet she's a general..."

Her eyebrows raise. "General? Hardly. Sssspecterminator. I like getting my handssss bloody too much to be a general." Though she's gotten four promotion offers already.

He huffs, not bothering to reply to that. He bends his knees up, trying to curl up into a ball. Ana did, infact, get an eyeful.

Ana's head tilted just a little, apparently from her combing but in fact so that she can get a better look and see just how well-hung he is.

Apparently, the hateful comments tossed at him later couldn't have been more false. He still hides his face, and wraps his arms around his legs to compact himself further.

She giggles, starting to blush slightly, and comb forgotten in one hand.

He barks through his hair "What's so funny now?!" Aww, he sounds flustered! What a terrible example of a troll.

That draws further giggles, and then her comb bonks him in the head.

It draws no noise from him, but his hands part his hair and toss it behind him. He starts to say something, but shuts his mouth at the last second, just staring like usual.

She stares back, but doesn't meet his eyes.

He scowls a bit, only pronouncing his light brown cheeks "You really are startin' to piss me off, just bein' so damn fuckin' silent."

"I'm enjoy the sssshow you're putting on." She grinned again.

He out right glares at Ana, before stuffing his face downwards, chin resting on his chest.

She snickers, clutching the towel to her chest and doubling over, shoulders and hair shaking from her giggles.

"FUCK YOU!" He yells, though it's usually booming effect is easily muffled.

"You - hehe - want - *snrrrrk* - to!"

He covers his head with his arms, trying to shun that annoying gold blooded harlot.

She rolls onto her back, still laughing hysterically. "That wassssn't a - teehee!!! - denial!"

"I HOPE YOUR HEAD GETS LOBBED OFF AND USED AS A BOWL!"

"And I hope - pfffthehehehehehe - that your legs are cut off and ussssed to ssssubjuggulate you!"

"I hope your ARMS GET RIPPED OFF AND GET SHOVED UP YOUR SEEDFLAP!" He huffs again, trying desperately to shrink himself into a smaller ball, to no avail.

She finally gives up and rolls over, slinking towards him. Her towel gives up the ghost and... woah. Those actually are natural. Damn.

He refuses to look up, either too emberassed or too angry to even look at the troll. His hands seem locked in his hair, gently stroking his long locks.

She crawls over to the comb, grabs it, and seats herself behind him, then starts combing his hair out.

His head jumps up the moment he feels the comb brush through his hair, wincing a bit afterwards. Congradulations, you just pulled your own hair. "What the hell are you doin'?"

"Combing your hair out, sssstupid." She's actually rather gentle, and works the tangles out carefully.

With a lazy grumble, he bares with it, using his interlocked hands as a stand to hold his head up "... Why are you doin' it, then?" His cheeks are still hinted with brown.

"Becausssse I've been itching to ssssince I ssssaw it." She's patient, and careful not to tug.

"... Thanks, I think. You got yourself a nice headful yourself." He softly admits.

She beams, even though he can't see it. "Thankssss. Going to cut it down to a more managable length ssssoon, though. It'ssss sssstarting to become a liability."

"It happens. My hair wasn't even half as long when I was a soldier... the moment I could, I grew it out." He pats the top of his head "It's... just somethin' enjoyable."

She nodded, moving to the next section. "Yessss, it issss. Pain in the assss to fit into a helmet though."

He chuckles at that "Heh. Only the weak wear a helmet. Not like it'd get hit anyway." You can almost see the ego seeping through his mouth.

She snorted at that. "Or thosssse going into a madman'ssss lair. Helmet'ssss ssssaved my assss more timessss than I care to count, when it comessss to Taranissss."

"Care to tell? I have doubts that those hunks of metal can even stop a round, let alone save someone's fuckin' ass."

"Built in air filterssss. The dear Baron disssscovered ssssomething he likessss to call anti-plassssma. If you breathe it in, it freezessss your lungssss. One time we had to crawl through one of the holding chamberssss to get to hissss throne room without being outright sssslaughtered. It wassssn't pleasssssant."

He nods his head to one side "Eh, true, sure... toxins and gases. But I was just a simple foot soldier, those things were hardly commonplace. Not where I was."

She nodded back, moving his hair a bit so she can continue combing it. "I'm in sssspecial opssss. The only one who can get a team in and out mosssstly intact, or at leasssst without everyone dead."

"I kinda guessed that from... uh, what was left of your uniform. My only job was to kill the bastards I was sent against. I did a pretty good job." He smuggly remarks.

She laughs a bit at that. "Did you now?" She finishes with one side, and loosely braids the combed side, tosses it over his shoulder, and tugs on the hair on the other side. "Move your head a bit."

He does so, not exactly caring about what she's doing to his poor locks. "Yeah. Sometimes I would go out with only my bare hands, just because I didn't feel like usin' my issued weapon. Stupid, but damned if I didn' enjoy myself."

She snorted. "Rather sssstupid, yessss, but if you're the one who broke my horn it sssserved you well." Comb, comb, comb, she seems surprisingly relaxed for sitting behind him naked combing his hair.

With a gentle sigh, he starts to lean backwards, laying on the troll "Who knows... maybe an assassin followed you home, or somethin'. That'd be fuckin' weird, someone just bustin' in and cleanin' the floor with us."

"Mmmhmm." She shifts around so he can lean against her, shivering a bit at the cooler feel of his flesh against her chest. The water's already evaporated off of her, and her hair's steaming just a touch. She shifts his hair too so she can keep it up.

"That'd have to be one badass, beatin' the both of us... you'd think he would've left somethin' behind. Like an arm or somethin'." He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle warmth beaming from the troll.

She sighed a little, more playing with his hair than combing it now. "Mmhmm. Or two."

"They there'd have to be somethin' left behind. Maybe some blood, or somethin'... maybe I'll just check later." He too sighed, but it was more out of being relaxed, maybe even safe.

She nodded, resting her chin on his uninjured shoulder. He's comfy. Her eyes drift closed as well. "Mmhmm." She keeps playing with his hair.

"You know... you're pretty damn warm." He lazily admits. Looks like a thought snuck out of his mind and slips out his lips!

"Mmhmm, comessss with the mutation. That and being pyrokinetic tendssss to make trollssss run warmer." She snuggled up against him.

"Pyrokawhat?" He picks up he lulling head slightly, turning to the head resting on his shoulder.

She tilts her head towards him. "Pyrokinetic. I can control fire with my mind."

"Ahh... well shit, that's badass. All I got are these things." He says this as he lifts up his arms, ripped with muscle, though the injured arm seems to have more weight to it, sinking lower than the other.

Ana giggled, running her hands appreciatively along his arms. "Only an idiot would criticssssize them." She complimented, squeezing lightly.

He nods, grinning softly as he flexes his arms "Idiots tend not to last long enough to get out more than a few words... those pansies." He shifts, getting a bit more comfortable. His towel seems to be slinking down a bit... not that he notices.

She nodded, arms settling around his waist loosely. "Ssssuch panssssiessss."

"Pathetic, high blooded pansies, the lot of them." He leans his head to lay against Ana's, a sigh escaping him.

"Mmhmm." She nuzzled against his head, sighing back.

He turns his head, just slightly... to lay a kiss on Ana's cheek, before turning back to face foward. He sucks at being sly.

She blushes, but nuzzles against his neck, blowing out a soft breath against the softer flesh there.

He shudders a bit, before turning back, feeling almost obliged to. "You ain't that bad, now that I think of it..."

"Neither are you." She agreed, pressing herself against his back more.

He places a hand onto her cheek, ever so slightly nudging himself closer "I think we might be able to get along, just fine..."

"Yessss we can." She agreed, shifting around to his side, leg sliding along his and 'accidentally' dragging his towel off

For a brief second, it looks like he notices his towel slide off, but he throws caution to the wind and closes the distance, his lips meeting Ana's in a firm kiss. His arms slide around the healthy, warm troll, dragging her close enough for full body contact, making his colder body shiver.

She kisses him back, eager and gentle, and throws her arms around his neck without a trace of hesitation. His cooler body feels good against her heat, and she presses against him, eyes hooded and a slight smirk crossing her features. With the drone revolution in full swing, no slurry collection is happening, so mating can be for pure pleasure, rather than simply to avoid culling.

Faju is not so gentle, however, pushing more eagerly against the smaller troll, his body shifting and squirming to fit against Ana's. His hands clamp onto her waist, rubbing and carressing the gentle curves while he forces the kiss onward.

She opens her mouth to him, daring him to explore the sharp-edged interior, and shifts around until she kneels against one of his thighs, a slightly-damp warmth proving she's got the self-control of a saint to have not just jumped him. She kneads the back of his neck and slides a hand down his chest.

While he tries, the moment his tongue tries to slide in, it feels one of the many razor-sharp teeth that line her mouth, and he cowardly retreats. However, he seems determained to shove the woman onto the floor, leaning his weight into the kiss, while his busy fingers scratch into her back as they trail up and down her scarred flesh.

She gasped into his mouth, but her tongue darts into his mouth, exploring eagerly. She lets him push her back, shuddering eagerly. She's muscular, but that doesn't make her curves any less significant, and her hips are damn near as wide as her shoulders.

His tongue greets the intruding tongue, sliding and teasing for a few, tender moments. The moment she hits the ground, his hands slide out to her side, grabbing a handful of her wide hips, massaging the skin just as his body pulls away, breaking the kiss while a grin forms on his lips. He slides himself inbetween Ana's legs, before laying back down onto her to rejoin the kiss. She can sertainly feel something eager to meet her, resting just ontop of her waist.

She moaned softly at the feel of his hands on her hips, shuddering in pleasure. "Nnnn..." She wriggles against him, delicious... She traces his back lightly with her claws, just this side of too hard, and wraps her legs around his waist. She awaits his return impatiently, kissing him hungrily when he rejoins her.

A soft wince grew on his face when her talons dug into him, it was quickly swept away as his lips met Ana's, this time caring not about the fangs and lets his tongue dart out to find it's playmate. His waist shifts in a slow, teasing motion, playing with the fire he holds in his hands.

She duels with his tongue, oh-so-careful not to actually injure, and presses against him, writhing and squirming eagerly. It's quite clear her 'glorified smut' is from quite a bit of experience.

With one last flick of the tongue, he parts away, only so he can fall back... and then thrusts himself inside, a shaky grunt snaking out of his lips before he falls upon the smaller troll. His hands fall back onto the delicious curves of Ana's waist, digging his nails into the soft flesh.

She gasps slightly, tight and definitely ready, and she writhes with a short cry at the claws. She runs her hands through his hair and down his back, staring up at him with lidded eyes. Heat rolls off her body in waves, enough to make her breath fog against the cooler air.

He briefly returns the gaze, before falling towards her lips for another kiss, his waist starting to develope a small rhythm of thrust, each one harder than the last. His rugged body starts to sweat, pressed so close up against the heated troll that every wave of heat hits him with full intensity.

She gets her feet under her, moving up to meet each thrust and letting out little sounds with each thrust. She tries to control it, but she can only keep the heat to a bareable level. She kisses back eagerly, cupping his head and gripping one of his hips.

Hands leaving her plump waist, they trail up to the round orbs on Ana's chest, massaging and groping them with a now delicate precision. Looks like he has quite a bit of experience himself. The thrusts grow faster and rougher, emitting lewd slaps of flesh against soaked flesh.

"Nnnng!" She presses hard against him, practically trembling at the touch on near-oversensitive flesh. "Oh gog..." Her legs tighten around his waist as a groan escapes her, and she shivers, tightening herself around him.

His needy fingers gently pinch and pull on the sensitive mounds, a smug grin growing wider on his lips. He rests his head on the woman's soft shoulder, teasingly slowing down as the frantic hands fall to her belly, pulling her upward for a fast, strong, and frankly painful thrust, making his seemingly stoic posture faulter with a deep moan.

She howled in pleasure, digging her claws into his back and shuddering in the mixed pain and pleasure. Her eyes fluttered closed and she has to remember how to breathe, little whimpers rising as she presses her face into his neck and laps at it.

With his jagged teeth digging into his lower lip, he gives it his all, pistoning into and out with a force which almost seems offensive, as if to break her in two. His breath is reduced to nothing but hurried pants and mumbled groans, his own nails piercing into Ana's back deep enough to leave a small hole behind, accidently drawing blood.

She groans and gasps, nipping at his neck and shuddering on the verge of orgasm. "Nnnh..." She draws blood as well, though she's still careful not to do permanent damage. She struggles to hold back, body temperature rising to near unbareable.

Arching himself away from the searing hot body of his partner, his harsh, thundering thrusts drain the rest of his energy with the last, hardest push towards his brink, his now bleeding lips howling out with a primal roar of pure lust as he climaxes. His body goes rigid, pulsing with his own heat that still pales in compairison to his... lover, it seems.

The rush of genetic fluid into her makes her go rigid for just a moment, before she finally screams her own climax, curling into herself unconsciously. The heat fades slowly to just a gentle warmth as she goes limp, a tiny noise escaping her again. Her eyes stay closed as she pants softly, trying to get her breath back.

The heat now fading, he falls foward, resting his gleaming body with Ana, a soft, slightly bloody kiss to ease the emotions away. His breath is still burning, however, so the kiss breaks just as easily as it came together, his voice now joining the chorus of pants.

She smiles against his lips, kissing back lightly before letting her head fall back and just breathes.