Btw I Love That Flicker Of What She Saw - Tumblr Posts
If Blitz had any idea just how beautifully the Hellhound fought, he would've been furious with himself for missing the chance to watch. Poetry in motion was always captivating, but when it was violent? When it was combat? When it was someone going all-out to save another person, or even just for the sheer, shameless joy of it? It was a rare beauty to behold--but he didn't know. He was so focused on getting the cat-demon free that he missed it. Everything happened so damn quickly, and this kid was bleeding the fuck out--
But the cat-demon's eyes widened and he hissed, baring his needle-like little fangs in alarm. Blitz turned to look--
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" he blurted out, fighting the urge to roll away from the attack. Instinct said to do that, but if he did, he'd be opening up the cat to an attack, and the guy was still tied with one more knot, the tangle of thick, over-tightened rawhide straps around his throat. Everything was going in slow-motion though, the way it always did in moments like this, those brief instances where life really did hang in the balance. Blitz was aware that the world was ending in the blink of an eye, but it didn't matter. He wasn't leaving this kitten undefended. Vaguely aware that the beautiful Hellhound had dispatched the other, he grabbed the outstretched wrist of his attacker. That flensing knife was poised to slice right down into Blitz's stomach. A blade that sharp, it was going to do real damage. it was thin, so at least there was that--but his detached thoughts about how survivable it might be didn't distract him from acting. Hands as strong as vise-grips, Blitz crushed the man's wrist as he took hold of him.
He launched himself back off of the table, pulling his attacker over it, with him. There was a brief sensation of sharpness, of heat. The pain would come later. He knew he'd been cut, he could feel the wetness already pouring down his chest, but it didn't matter; as the two of them fell, Blitz managed to turn that knife around.
By the time they hit the ground, the knife was in the SInner's guts. Snarling, Blitz head-butted him as hard as he could--there was a sickening crunch sound, which might have done the Sinner in--before he shoved the knife up higher, farther. In the next breath, the body atop him went limp. Lifeless.
He'd reanimate eventually.
Fucker.
Still growling, bristling, Blitz shoved the corpse off of himself, leaving the knife in it, and jumped back up onto the table.
"Is everyone--fuck! Fuck, is everyone okay?" he asked, standing over the victim, looking at the Hellhound with open worry in his eyes. Whoever she was, she had come to help. She was incredible. And if she was hurt? Blitz was never going to fucking forgive himself. Never-mind that his stupid mesh-shirt was hanging open, along with part of his chest, and that blood was dripping down him. They had won. There was time to worry about her, and about the cat.
The cat sinner was shaking hard--trying not to flinch whenever Blitz's blood dripped onto him--and scrabbling at the leather straps around his throat. Managing to tear them free, he sat up, clinging to the imp's thigh, and looked over at the Hellhound. Eyes wide, voice shaking, badly injured, he nonetheless managed to say, "Thank you. Both of you."
And then the cat-sinner passed out, the imp swayed with the blood-loss (and his exhaustion from earlier in the night), and a bouncer stuck their head in.
"What the fuck is going on in here? Everyone consent to this?" the bouncer asked.
Blitz started laughing. Maybe this wasn't the place, it sure as fuck wasn't the time, but oh fucking well. "Yeah. Yeah, this is real safe, sane, and consensual, all the way through, fucker."
Whatever it was Visage was prepared to see when the door was breached ... it had not been that. The giddy excitement of impeding combat was momentarily shocked out of her system like a dunk of ice-cold water at the grisly sight. And yet, just as quickly as the sight had rattled her, a smoldering fury began to slowly weave through her veins. It had been too blissfully long since she had been reminded of just how vile demons could be ... and the hellhound was all too eager to meet their wanton cruelty in equal measure. Before she could act on the urge, however, her new companion was the first to enter the fray. Real violence was a vice the hellhound had not been able to truly indulge since her bounty hunting days ... in a time before the mantle of Overlord had been thrown her way. Bearing witness to the imp's artfully brutal decapitation was like the first hit of a favored drug after being clean for entirely too long. Pure uncut euphoria. A faint sheen of pale luminous blue flashed across the silver of her eyes as her pupils shrunk to pin pricks. His words cut through that awestruck haze ... and the fur along the nape of her neck bristled in anticipation of the carnage she would soon leave in her wake. "Oh, with fuckin' pleasure, babe!" In a flicker of movement that one could easily miss in the blink of an eye, a wicked pair of sickle-shaped blades were pulled free from the leather sheathes strapped to each upper thigh. The pale hue of the engraved metal and the way they glowed like captured moonlight made the true nature of the weapons readily apparent--any Sinner struck down by these would not be respawning. The she-wolf was playing for keeps. Before the remaining two torturers could grasp the grim reality of their predicament, the lupine was on them like a bolt of lightning, one of the blades coming forward in a graceful arc as it sliced upward from the left underarm up into the shoulder in a single powerful swing that sent the severed limb sailing across the room. It was difficult to say which came next ... the howling shriek of agony from the demon or the wet meaty thud of the arm striking the opposite wall. Where the first blade had swung up, the second came down like the lashing talon of a great beast as it cleanly slid through flesh and into the small space between the throat and collar bone to hook into the back of the sternum. The Sinner's screaming wavered into a small strangled cry as the hellhound used her grip to bodily yank the demon down to his knees. With a fang-toothed grin more akin to a feral snarl, the Overlord lowered her face just near enough to lock eyes with the Sinner as he stared at her in incoherent horror. "G'night, asshole..." Before the demon could even articulate a final thought, Visage pulled hard, the blade ripping through both bone and cartilage with barely any resistance as splintered ribs jutted out from cleaved flesh. A cascade of organs slid outward through the grotesque wound to pool upon the floor ... before he slumped forward to fall face-first into the pile of viscera. A shaky sigh of satisfaction left her. It felt damn good to pour all that pain--that impotent anger--into something so deeply cleansing. In the heat of the moment like this, it wasn't about righting the injustice of their cruel torture anymore. In fact ... for a fleeting second, it wasn't a Sinner that Visage saw. Staring down at the rapidly-cooling corpse, it lay in a crumple of tattered wings and dark chainmail armor before flickering back to normal in the space of a single blink. That rush of fury wavered as she gaped down at the body with a faint gasp. Was she finally fucking losing it...? Unaware of the distraction, the remaining Sinner wanted no part of any of that, deciding to take his chances with the imp that was currently untying their intended prey rather than tangoing with the wrathful she-wolf. Unleashing a feral yell, he lunged at Blitz with a still-bloody flensing knife held firmly in hand.