[closed] yes, turn the knob and switch that gear

[faithlikeaseed]

Who: The SQUIP, L Lawliet, Connor, and Justine vs Rich Goranski, Michael Mell, Myr Shivana, and Niles, with Jeremy Heere in the middle like a rugby ball.
When: The 14th, before the mist recedes.
Where: waves hands vaguely, somewhere near where the SQUIP’s hiding its people-hoard
What: A little spot of aggravated assault against an AI gone rogue. The SQUIP’s number is up.
Warnings: v i o l e n c e, body horror, blood, traumatic brain injury; more as needed.


Three days of mist and chaos hadn’t been kind to Aefenglom. Despite the Coven’s best efforts, the city resembled a war zone more than a thriving metropolis, with Monsters and Witches alike running rampant. Some were feral--some were simply making best use of a crisis--but regardless of motive, many, too many, were going unopposed and unnoticed.

Among the rioting and looting, the SQUIP’s quiet personal effort to grow its social network might’ve gone entirely unnoticed. It was almost commendable, in a sick way, in stashing the people it collected out of harm’s way. It could have very well gone on doing so until the mist receded with no one but its new acquisitions the wiser--

But then it made the mistake of grabbing the wrong person, and all hell broke loose.

Comments

[fromjapan]

[Its entire form is, truthfully, a weak point-- feral instinct and the drive to keep up in competition were the driving forces behind its change of shape, not any kind of logic or reason. Had it been in more of its right mind, it would've realized what a disadvantage such a shape would put it at... particularly as it can't seem to breathe fire.

Rich manages to catch it with his claws before it can move away, dragging thin, deep wounds across its belly; red blood spills over its vivid white skin and scales, and it falters in the air for a moment, surprised, before it rolls away from him again.

Pain. It hurts. But the pain only makes it angry, drags its feral instincts to the front, and it shouts in rage, more of a dragon's roar than anything else, and whips sharply around in the air to hurl its body towards him, claws and teeth and rage.]

[firewalled]

[Well, perhaps this dragon form isn't like the ones Rich has read about, the ones that are powerful and can shrug off nearly any damage, but are particularly weak in one certain spot. Rich is pretty sure that he didn't get lucky enough to find a weak spot this easy.

He's sickly satisfied, seeing the gashes across the SQUIP's side, but more satisfied with how angry it gets. Interesting that he's the one who was being called aggressive and violent, honestly.

It's a lot easier to dodge when your opponent is too upset to stop telegraphing its attack. Rich ducks down, flying beneath the SQUIP before swiping a back paw back at it. So long as he's careful, he can do this. He can wear the SQUIP down. He has to.]

[fromjapan]

[The next blow also connects, but the effect is much less severe-- it manages to roll aside, Rich's claws scraping over its scales without piercing them again.

And then it drops itself-- rams its body against his, attempting to catch some part, any part of Rich with its own claws, to return some of the damage that it's been dealt.

It isn't thinking at all anymore-- feral rage has overtaken any higher thinking, the SQUIP unit itself even somehow drowned out by the intense magic spreading through the air and coating their bodies. All that it can think of now is that it hurts, and that it is angry... and that Rich is its enemy.]

[firewalled]

[Rich growls as he's collided with, those claws grazing down its back. It doesn't do much, but damn, it certainly stings. Rich grunts and tries to focus through the haze of the pain, enough to grab onto the form against him and dig his claws in.

Rich is pissed, to be sure, but he's focused. His ears are searching out any sound of the fight below, any sign that his friends may need his help, while the rest of his senses are honed in on the SQUIP, waiting for it to be worn down.]