[Survivor] - Cat and Mouse

     Arkana was stomping mad as she hauled herself out of her house and out into the grassy open world before her. She was about to go Sikko Mode on some dumb Oliveblood for a number of reasons, none of which were inherently VALID in any kind of way. She was scared, and angry, and knowing there was a Troll below her on the Hemospectrum somewhere for her to take her aggressions out on was a breath of air she didn’t know she needed.

Lucien, however, was lying on the grass with his arms behind his head, his phone resting on his face and blocking the sun from shining in his eyes. Lazily, the upbent knee of his swayed back and forth as he drifted in and out of light sleep. The Sun was lovely and warm. Arkana didn’t even seem to notice. He could hear her footsteps stomping up from several feet away but expected she’d at least stop to berate him or something before she attacked.

Arkana didn’t offer him the courtesy of a slung insult, and instead introduced herself with a hearty and powerful KICK to the side of his head a though his skull was a soccer ball and she were trying to make a half-field goal. Lucien went rolling and his phone went FLYING, the pair coming to a rough stop a few feet away. Arkana was about to start yelling when Lucien windmill-kicked his way back up to his feet from where he was lying and broke into a dead-launch at the smaller Troll. All Arkana could get out was a Yelp before he was on top of her, using his mass and his abnormal weight to pin her to the grass beneath him, claws dug into the shoulders of her shirt and knees anchoring her, one in her stomach and one firmly in the grass.

     “Okay, you got that out of your system?” He asks as he stares down, one eye squinted on the side she’d kicked. His skull was peeling like a bell in his ears and the world was slowly turning around him. Arkana was nothing but a screwed up and snarling face and sharp, rabid claws tearing at his forearms to try and get him to release.

“LET GO OF ME YOU OVERGROWN FURBALL, I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T UNHAND ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE I’LL HAVE YOUR FECULANT SKULL ON THE MANTLE OF MY NEW HIVE!!!!” She spits, loudly, doing her best to thrash with easily 270+ pounds of Troll on top of her. One of her shoes manage to fly up and kick Lucien in the ass, which makes his brows shoot up for a moment but it brings out a laugh instead of any kind of wince.

“Listen, I’m gonna let you go, you’re gonna stop tearing chunks out of my arms, and we’re gonna go our separate wa-”

“HECK NO! YOU’RE DISRESPECTING ME, YOU’RE NOTHIN’ BUT A HEMOREBELLIO-” All of Lucien’s weight shifts onto One Hand on Arkana’s right shoulder, popping it out of place with a gross, wet crack. She’d be screaming if his freed hand didn’t move to cover her mouth before her vocalizations started.

     “-WE ARE gonna go our separate ways, and we’re gonna NOT attack eachother until we know what the Fuck is going on here. As far as I can tell, we’re the only two Trolls here. Humans don’t even know what we ARE, if they think we’re on equal grounds with them they aren’t going to single us out and hunt us down. So just... Chill. Make em’ like you.” As he speaks he puts more and more of his weight on her dislocated shoulder, causing Arkana’s legs to kick helplessly and gouge chunks of turf out with the heels of her dress shoes. Her eyes were watering.

“Got it? You’re a Blueblood but I’m a fuckin’ Daymare, alright? You don’t want to make me your enemy. Not when we’re the only Representation here.” He continues to hold her, bearing down more of his weight with his knee into her gut. Arkana stops thrashing, her nails quick-deep in Lucien’s forearm and her fingers slick with Olive. “Gimme a nod if you understand.”

There’s a beat where nothing happens that Lucien ends by lying more weight on Arkana’s shoulder. Her entire body surges and she nods as quick and hard as she can while his hand enveloped most of her face. As soon as he processed he nod, he threw himself backwards and back into the grass, holding his arms straight up to elevate them above his heart. Arkana gasped and let out a scream, which quickly turned into a loud, growling moan as she was able to curl up on herself and grip her shoulder. She cursed him with non-swears in a quiet and continuous mumbling stream of hurt and anger. Lucien examined the shreds of new scars he’d likely get.

“Glad we came to an agreement. Hopefully someone here has mediculler training.” He said knowingly before getting up. He was going to go find some water to dunk his arms in until they stopped bleeding profusely.

     “Lucien, by the way. Nice to meet you Arkana.”