The Clock Tower Wrote:An hour of terror is upon you in this stage. You're fighting hundreds of feet up a massive clock tower with very narrow walk-ways, flimsy railing, and some very small circular stairs that lead up several more stories, although you needn't worry about that. Once participants step foot in the specified area, a gate is placed upon the stairwell, preventing you from going up or down until the fight is finished.
Terrain
General - Two narrow walk-ways on either side of the stairs and small center area is all of the space you have to work with. Either walk way is 7 feet in length and 4 foot in width, not giving you much room in this arena. Watch your footing.
Natural Element Resource - GONG GONG
Weapons - None
Bonus Effects - None
Malkur vs Rosalyn
HoH season 11. Source: valucre.net static Gaia dump.
Table of contents
Malkur in haled sharply, his breath barely catching in his chest as he tried to calm his nerves. He stood at the bottom of the stairs to the massive clock tower, eyes peering straight up the winding way to where he would be forced to fight. Malkur wasn't in this tournament of his own free will, Kenji Hood had forced him; but he would make the most of the opportunity in front of him.
Exhaling his deep breath after many moments he slowly ascended the stairs to the double platforms, hands on the railing as he looked down and watched his feet make each careful step, slowing stomping against the metal stairs. His simple leather ranger boots in quite good shape.
The young warrior wore simple pants, and a blue breastplate with shoulder pads over his chest. The light weight steel not hefty enough to be anything but light armor. Strapped around his back was a sheathe, with a 45 and a half inch sword stuck inside it. The sheathe was clearly designed for a single edged sword, similar to scimitar but at a much larger scale and with less curve.
He has simple short hair, a light five o clock shadow. He stood a average 5'7", and weighed no more then 175 lbs of muscle. He was well built, but at the end of the day he was still short and therefore small by most standards. The only real threat he seemed to pose was a massive sword, which would be a wise assumption. For Malkur was likely the only pure, no powered human in this tournament.
He didn't even posses absurd skill with the blade, being closer to above average then 'god of battle'. It was a stray from the norm, and as the young over matched lad took his step onto the platform he felt it shake beneath his feet slightly.
Footing would be rough on here, and the fall fatal for such an average young man. Knowing this, his heart raced in his chest as he took his place at the right platform. It wasn't long before he started sweating, fear racing through his mind. 'What if I die?' his mind had touched on many times. He knew it was non-fatal, but he had also heard people had died before.
'If I die, I will have accomplished nothing.' This was no question, his mind simply assured the rest of his body of this, it was at that moment his resolve hardened slightly. He drew his sword in a flourish, soon realizing he could not swing the thing with any sort of effectiveness on the thin pathway.
"So I die! SO BE IT!" With that, he slammed the tip of the sword into the wooden walk way. Getting it struck in front of him, his face bright red as he roared, needlessly, to the Heavens.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The horrific battle cry of a young man knowing nothing but fear, but not willing to flee. He would be a cornered animal from this point forward, and it showed in his suddenly wild features.
A grin formed across her lips as she heard her meal climb up the staircase. It wasn't long before the man ascending them was in clear view.
Rosalyn's eyes followed the young man as he made his way up to platform. He was everything that she had expected from a fighter. Well built, young, and possessing some sort of weapon. There was nothing more she could ask for. It would have been in his best interest to not have even shown up to the odd arena but such cowardice was against the code of warrior. This man seemed to be just as foolish as they come. When he finally reached the walkway and took his place Rosalyn was able to size him up accurately.
Surprisingly he wasn't any taller than the succubus nor did he seem to be something of a bruiser. It wouldn't be a problem for Rosalyn to overpower the fighter. Unlike him Rosalyn did not feel a need to equip herself with armor. She was barely even clothed. Her costume consisted of a dark bra top, a mixture of black and purple, lined with silver. Her sheer skirt was decorated in the same way, the fabric divided at the sides to expose her her long legs up to the silver hip belt and dark purple scarf wrapped over it. Coiled just above the scarf was her masterfully crafted whip with her finger tips idly touching the solid ball at the end.
Rosalyn could feel it. The young man made it obvious. His doubts fueled her. She stood with confidence, her legs apart and her hips jutted to the side. It was the complete opposite of what she was able to read from her opponent. She waited as the young fighter tried to find his wits. It was a surprise that Rosalyn could refrain from laughing out loud when her opponent yelled at himself. She wasn't intimidated by his sudden outburst at all and allowed him his moment of preparation, waiting until his battle cry finished echoing inside the building before offering comment. The sinister grin remained a part of her face as she chuckled,
"So you've decided that you're going to die?"
She shifted her weight and jutted her hips to her other side while wrapping her fingers around her whip and pulling it from around her. It fell to the ground like a serpent waiting patiently to strike its prey. She waited at the center of the adjacent walkway in no real rush to destroy this young man. She did enjoy playing with her food after all.
"I'd love nothing more than to grant you your wish."
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 100%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities:
Cool Downs:
FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Crashing through a window that may or may not have been there before, a middle-aged mustached man dusted himself off and adjusted his hat. It was...
Officer A. Propriate
Appropriate Police
Detective First Class
(And a handsome devil, to boot.)
He calmly and appropriately blew his whistle, signaling that there was indecency afoot. Not missing a beat, in the blink of an eye he dashed up to the succubus, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head. "No, no no. This will not do at all. This is wildly inappropriate!" After taking a fraction of a second to come up with something, he snapped his fingers and reached into his utility belt. In one swift, fluid, and of course, appropriate motion, he had covered the woman with much more apropriate garb.
Before anyone was able to react, he crashed back through the window, which may have ceased to exist after he crashed through it a second time.
"The he-"
No time! The cops were here! His first instinct was run, but after realizing he was the fashion police he calmed himself some. For his outfit was stunning, utterly stunning and he had no need to worry about this man. He did however find it mildly amusing that his opponent had to be better clothed. It wasn't really bad that she was half naked, if anything, the young warrior didn't mind. If he was going to get beat half to death, it might as well be by a naked lady.
But such fun never lasted, and soon she wore a brown dress. It was nice, flora and if he truly thought about fabulous; but at the end of the day her attire wasn't that relevant to this portion of the roleplay. So, going back to the dramatics the young warrior gripped his sword and pulled it from its hold. His breathe came slowly, inhale and exhale, each breathe measured by seconds.
"Die? We shall see."
Bold words, but they held no confidence. His voice nearly faltered at the very mention of death. But he willed his strength up, drawing it into his mind more so then his body. After a short moment he turned himself side ways, facing his right shoulder to the young lady and gripping the hilt of his falchion with his back left hand near the pommel. He then spread his legs well past shoulder level, the forward right leg slightly stretched out with the heel pressed hard into the ground. The back left was bent at the knee and cocked to apply following force to what could only be a lunge.
He then rose the large sword, placing the tip of the sword against his out stretched right hand and laying the flat portion of the blade against his palm, thus turning the sword slightly side ways. His thumb slide under and gripped the other flat side of the sword, allowing him to balance the blade for lunging strikes with effective ease without worrying about counter balancing it with foot work.
"May the Gods protect me, may my skill not falter! For I come this day not to die, but for victory. If victory escapes me, I will not flee. Cowardice is not my way."
He mumbled entirely to himself, barely audible. With practiced ease he rocked his weight to his back foot and then forward again. He did not move forward, he remained stationary. He clearly had no attention of meeting her on her own walk way.
[1]
Sad to say that stranger things had happened but this ranked near the top of the list. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that all Rosalyn could do was blink through confusion before being covered by a pretty ugly dress. However that didn't matter much. The succubus had the uncanny ability to make anything look good on her. She didn't even need to try. With the mysterious officer leaving just as quickly as he came not another second was wasted trying to figure out what had just happened. Preparations for the feast were to resume just as it was.
Rosalyn watched her meal ready himself into some stance. Considering the layout and each fighters respective position, it didn't seem like the most efficient stance to take. Surely the young man had to realize his clear disadvantage. That probably was his reason for not advancing. Rushing from his walkway to hers with so little room to maneuver was a disaster waiting to happen. Attempting to leap over from his walkway to hers would be suicide. Either way, unless he had some form of magic to attack the succubus felt very safe. So safe in fact that her smirk not only returned but had grown. The match was decided before either of them had even set foot onto the stage. However simply ending the fight and devouring the young man wouldn't have been much fun. No, it would be much more enjoyable to break him before consuming him.
Her left foot moved to the back with her leg straight and her right knee bent slightly. As she adjusted her footing her right arm moved up to bring the whip to life. It carried behind her over her head for just a moment before her arm suddenly reversed the direction and brought it forward over her head. The whip whistled through the air as it extended over the railing towards her opponent. Even at its maximum extension of eight feet the popper would most likely fail to reach its target. However, Rosalyn didn't intend for the whip itself to actually harm the young man. As the whip cut through the air like a dagger Rosalyn had channeled her ku through it. Finally the whip cracked with a miserable howl that was accompanied by a sudden burst of flames from the end of the popper once reaching maximum extension. The flames fanned out five feet in the direction of her opponent.
Just as quickly as the attack was initiated the whip was recalled back to her. Kept in constant motion, Rosalyn swung the whip above her waiting to begin her next attack.
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 97%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities: Scorching Lash
Cool Downs:
1
Malkur tensed as the whip came toward him, eyes watching her every muscle movement. He read the attack long before it came, the whip didn't have the distance to hit him from here judging by her motion; so guessing this he turned and dove away before the flames leaped fourth. Leading to the platform that intersected the two walk ways he rolled to his feet in one fluid motion and actually landed in the same stance he was in before; except this time he was facing her within reach.
His weight shifted backward, pressing all his weight onto his back foot and then suddenly shoving it forward in one fluid motion. The stretched forward leg pushed off the heel in a wide arc, working like a long spring to propel him incredibly distances at huge speeds. He'd cross the gap in a matter of a second, possibly less.
He did not close it completely however, as he entered what looked to be 'out of range' for his sword the back foot became the forward and his weight shifted. He extended his back left hand which quickly became the forward and holding the sword at the pommel he extended his arm out and toward her for a lunging thrust.
The 45 inches of the blade, plus the 38 inches of his arm extended the blade nearly seven feet. This coupled with his diving lunge made the strike blindingly fast. In fact, if not for the simple fact she likely had enhanced senses; it was possible she would not even notice the attack till it came.
His mind raced as the blade rushed toward her center of mass. He realized that if it connected, she would be impaled on his blade and she would likely die. His mind nearly faltered, but he didn't slow the blade. He merely steeled himself to the reality he was in. A life or death type situation, and he was not going to die here.
He wasn't!
"May my blade strike true!"
He called, yelling it to whom ever cared to hear it. His heart pounded in his chest as his face grew to a bright red from the adrenaline. He was clearly a novice, a lad who had been over matched from the start. But this novice could bite, for the force and speed of his thrust was truly impressive.
[2]
The young man did just as Rosalyn had expected but it certainly wasn't what she had hoped for. She wanted him to panic and back himself into a corner with no means of escape but instead he found a way to position himself across from her with little she could do to prevent it. All that meant now was that he was directly in range of her attacks. She followed him as he dove for the platform and easily adjusted her footing as she pulled her whip back to her. That was the great thing about simply wanting to harass her opponent. She never put everything into her attacks. Making minor adjustments to his reactions, especially at range, was simple and required little effort because of that. Her feet were near even and shoulder width apart. She stood in the center of the platform, her right arm still keeping the whip alive above her head without thought. She waited to see what kind of position her opponent would fall into.
Seeing the young man roll into the same stance from the other walkway was a good thing. There were only so many things he could accomplish from it. Confident that she could predict what he was planning she waited for him to advance again. She saw his body push forward, she was ready for him. Then the other foot came, she saw him twisting the left side of his body and throwing out his left arm. She had guessed it just right. The only thing she could have imagined him doing was thrusting his sword at her, it was probably the only attack that couldn't have been instantly denied by the superior range and control of her whip.
Just as the sword was nearing her Rosalyn took a wide step forward to her right to place herself on the outside of her opponent's left arm. The succubus wasn't able to evade the incoming thrust completely. As it still traveled forward the edge of the blade managed to graze the left side of her abdomen. It ripped that ugly dress into shreds while leaving a shallow wound to her flesh. What a pity! The injury was minor and Rosalyn would have ignored it if she didn't enjoy it. Her eyes had set on the young man's face, she was still grinning. The end of her stride placed her about a quarter length from the edge of his blade.
Just as she completed her step forward, Rosalyn moved into action with another attack. She brought the whip from above her head and aimed it down pass the young man's fully extended left arm. With plenty of room for error from movement, the whip's fall should wrap tightly around her opponent's forearm and form a secure grasp. If that were to happen Rosalyn would step back with her right foot while simultaneously grabbing hold of her whip with her left hand to tug hard at it in an attempt to use the momentum of her opponent's lunge against him and pull him off his balance.
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 99%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities:
Cool Downs:
2
Sclich!
The sensation hit him as the blade just barely cut her, his body nearly trembling at the feeling of cutting someone. It was the first time his blade had ever hit anything remotely humanoid, and the strange feeling would never leave him. His eyes nearly rolled into themselves trying to stay focused at the moment at hand. He watched as she stepped to the outside of his blade, placing herself away from his right hand and away from his blade.
CRACK!
The whip wrapped around his outside left arm. He felt his weight shift forward, knowing full well what she was planning to do at this point. It was time to show her what an animal could do when you backed him into a corner. Forced him to fight a battle he felt was for his life, to try desperately his mind raced with each passing millisecond, for he knew everything counted. At the apex of her tug he shifted all his weight to his back foot, angled it off to his left and spun in place.
He wasn't aiming to hit her with his sword, oh no. As she pulled he locked his right elbow tight and gripped the collar of his own armor to brace the elbow strike that was coming. He spun with all his forward momentum, throwing a devastating spinning back elbow aimed square for her face.
The elbow wasn't like a punch, the sort of damage it inflicted was vastly different. The elbow cut, if it connected it would tear open a wide gash on her but not just that, it applied such a pin point force if it connected on a bone it would shatter it on a normal human. How whore, I mean Succubus, bones related to human bones was unknown.
But at the end of the day, that was irrelevant. A spinning back elbow, and as he spun his shifted the weight of his sword arm, trying to turn his grip in the whip slightly and push her toward him a bit, if nothing else. With a grin he yelled mid spin, a sudden powerful confidence on his voice.
"I will win!"
His elated voice bellowed, preparing himself for whatever was to come next.
[3]
Rosalyn expected for the young man to fall and it seemed like that was what was going to happen. The way he was falling was a bit off though. She had expected him to land face first on the walkway, but somehow his body was moving in some kind of awkward spin. The succubus had no clue what kind of faulty footing the young man used for his lunge to end up in such a predicament, but it was certain that on his back was the last place he wanted to be. Still though, this was going on so terribly slow. Rosalyn didn't want to give him the chance to reach for a railing to pull himself up. So with her impatience and better judgment kicking in the succubus made the hasty decision to speed things along.
As the young man shifted all of his weight onto his back foot and started to spin towards her the whip became even more taut. Rosalyn could feel the resistance as if he were making a fruitless attempt to draw her into him. She would combat this resistance with her vastly advantageous position. She stepped back with her left foot while pulling the whip up to the level of her head and back as if she were reeling in a big catch. If this wasn't going to bring the young man to the floor it was at least going to provide enough resistance to prevent the full pivot on his back foot. Even if it didn't manage to stop that, stepping back in such a way should easily put the succubus out of range of the elbow held so close to his body. When Rosalyn actually saw his arm like that she assumed he was pulling at his armor to try to prevent it from ramming into his throat when he hit the ground since it most likely wasn't properly fitted. The boy didn't look like the type with the money to get something tailored for him.
What the young man had in store for him because he managed to get himself into such a bad position was truly horrible. As Rosalyn's left foot planted firmly behind her and she pulled yet again she quickly inhaled a full breath that visibly expanded her abdomen and chest. Then after a very short pause coupled with a dash of focus, she blew out the air in a slow and controlled manner. Along with the air came a large stream of flames from her pursed lips that fanned out to around four feet in front of her. She directed her fiery breath at her opponent's head and shoulders regardless of which way he may or may not have fallen. With his sword arm effectively locked up and his back for the most part to her, she was demonstrating the very clear range and position advantage she held over the young man.
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 91%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities: Hellfire Flow
Cool Downs:
3
Carry on.
As she pulled young Malkur found himself being pulled, but not pulled away but directly into her. As she moved to avoid the elbow she would find a 5'7", 175lbs man falling into her; left shoulder first. In the cluster ******** he lost his sword, dropping and watching it slide in horror over the edge of the clock tower. Realizing he had no weapon to defend himself, he turned his body into his spin slightly and placed his feet under him as best he could. Not to catch himself, but to push; grabbing at straws he pumped his legs like pistons and threw both his hands out.
He lowered his body and attempted to throw his arms around her lower back/waist area, mid piston like charge falling to one knee and trying to squeeze his arms together, doing what in wrestling was known as a power double leg. Malkur himself didn't really know what he was doing, he just trying to make her fall with him and it felt natural to grab onto her and move his legs with all the force he could apply.
The beauty of the position he took was what mattered was more leverage then strength, so her super strength in the end didn't totally matter. Of course, due to his lack of skill and his haphazard fall into the technique it wasn't perfect. It was a bit too high on her stomach and he fell more or less sort of tried to power his way into it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
All the while he roared at the top of his lungs senselessly. It had no words or meaning, just a feral roar trying to drag her down onto the wooden platform with him. He had no plan or thought in his mind, just charge on as hard as he could and hope it worked out. If it didn't, he would adjust as best he could.
His mind raced with the fear in his head. He knew he could lose in the next few moments, but he wasn't willing to give into his fear just yet. But it was evident in his roars, on his face. He was scared, and fear improved a man in many ways. The dump of adrenaline he felt made him a bit stronger then normal, and he could only hope he had enough leverage and strength to drag her down with him.
[4]
((I think we should try to communicate better. A lot of s**t got lost in Fox-cross translation and I honestly think this could have been settled much better if I knew what you had actually wanted. I'd like to work this out, have a good fight. But, in all honesty, I was never told he you even wanted to. All I heard was that you wanted me to change my post.
I'm also assuming because I fell into you, you never got a chance to use the fire. If I'm wrong, please let me know.))
Rosalyn watched the young man begin to topple over as she inhaled. He was tumbling right into his own destruction. What horrible luck he had to be matched against the succubus. He probably had high hopes, in fact Rosalyn was sure of it based on what she observed of him so far. Really though, it probably didn't matter too much. If it wasn't her it would have been someone else to crush his dreams. But what luck for Rosalyn to be given the pleasure. The young warrior was inexperienced, foolish even. Even if he made it pass the preliminary stage he didn't have much of a chance of moving on much further. If it wasn't his inability that was going to keep him down it would be the crippling results of this match's conclusion. The succubus felt good about herself, as usual. She was completely dominating the young man with no effort at all.
The grin across her face had widened. Her look was more smug than just confident. But as the young man continued to fall Rosalyn's eyes widened a bit. Time went by slowly, in her mind everything was happening in slow motion. What the hell was he doing? The thud of his sword falling echoed in her head, she watched surprised as her opponent miraculously repositioned himself mid-fall. Then she saw it, she saw him launch himself for her. And she heard it, his desperate yell.The tension of her whip had relaxed with him falling closer to her and she longer needed to exert herself to pull him. Even then, there was little time for her to react.
It happened without thought. Her left hand let go of the whip and both her hands moved out in front of her to catch and push the diving imbecile away. However, Rosalyn did not expect this at all. Her hands pushed against his shoulders which kept him from ramming into her body but in her moment of surprise she had lost her solid footing. Her right foot stepped back, and then the left started to follow but she tripped and fell herself. She'd fallen right onto her butt, her hands having pushed back hard enough to let the young man stop with his head near her lap.
Rosalyn's shock was only momentary. She reacted first and thought second. Her eyes looked down scornfully at the young man as she was falling back. Even though he managed to bring her down with him he was open for an attack. As she was falling back Rosalyn's right hand moved from the young man's left shoulder and lifted into the air. She lifted her wrist up and quickly found her target. Just as she landed on the ground and him on top of her she brought down her right hand quickly without hesitation. Her wrist snapped down to add more oomph to the strike. Not hard enough to kill the guy by turning his skull to dust, mainly because she didn't want to upset Robyn yet by killing him, but to render him unconscious. At the end of her whip was a heavy ball of lead designed just for this task, smashing things. She aimed the ball to crash into her opponent's head.
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 100%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities:
Cool Downs:
4
Malkur had succeeded! His heart rose in his chest, his eyes wide with shock and happiness. His confidence, though slim, had returned. As she had pushed out on him, he had gripped her dress with both his hands, giving himself as much leverage as physically possible, but her strength was beyond his and as they crashed down his head hit her lap as she had intended.
But he didn't stay still, he was moving before they even hit the ground entirely. Dragging himself very quickly he latched his body incredibly close to her, placing his head basically against her breasts and-
CRACK!
"Uh..eh."
The light grunt as felt the impact, his back had been slammed by a heavy ball of some kind from the whip, causing severe pain. It didn't just hurt, it did real damage; while she had aimed clearly for his head what she ended up hitting was closer to the right ribcage on his back due to him drawing himself so close to her. Two bones cracked, causing his breathing to come in heaves.
But it also pushed him into motion. moving his legs he wrapped them around her out stretched ones. They were both in sitting positions, but Malkur was more or less sitting in her lap with his head lowered to her chest. So as he wrapped his legs around hers, he got his right shin under both her knees and then locked his right foot under his left knee. He had figured foured her legs, making it impossible for her to gain her balance and stand back up because he lifted the legs out of the air and then pressed his legs against her knees.
He then rose a few inches, placing himself at the same height as her and began throwing bombs of left and right straight punches toward her face. He would throw them until he wasn't able to hit her anymore, taking no breaks. He didn't have time to take breaks, with two shattered ribs fatigue would set in any second.
Using the adrenaline he had to keep him going he just punched and punched. A hail mary pass, but it was thrown by a damn good quarterback at just right the moment. He didn't yell this time, he didn't even make his noise. He simply steeled himself to the moment and hoped to the Gods he had enough left to fight on.
Without a weapon if he lost his dominate position, his night was likely over.
[5]
The appropriate police would not be pleased.
The young man pulled at the dress Rosalyn was given which only caused it to rip more. The tear that he created moments earlier with his sword grew as his falling weight pulled down on it. By the time they both landed on the ground the side of the dress was so tattered it left most of her side bare. Of course this wasn't a problem for the succubus, she walked into the place wearing less. However this might not have been a very good thing for her opponent. He most likely would have lost the positioning he had with his hands. He would have almost certainly lost whatever leverage he was attempting to gain by pulling on the dress.
Then there was even more that was probably going to infuriate the appropriate police.
After falling and managing to land her blow, albeit not where she intended, Rosalyn could feel the young man squirm on her. She didn't like that at all. Having him flail around like a fish out of water was the last thing she wanted. So she moved her left hand up to place it at the back of his head to bury his face deeper into her bosom. In another context this may have been a wonderful, most likely rare scenario for the young man, but being pinned down without a means to escape was most likely the last thing he could want. The succubus did not want to give him even a little bit of room to lift himself up to try to resist her and she figured keeping him so close to her while smothering his face would do the trick nicely.
While pushing down on his head to hold him in place Rosalyn did not let up on her assault. The grunt, the squirming, she could only conclude that her strike had dealt some considerable damage. While it wasn't his head for an immediate knockout, constantly beating his body was sure to wear him down all the same. Rosalyn lifted the ball of the whip again and hammered down unmercifully to the same area along the young man's back that she had just smashed. Connecting the blow would bring on successive attempts to crush his body. At a relentless pace and brutal ferocity she was going to smash him to pieces if his will did not fold sometime soon. And even then there was no guarantee that she would just stop.
At least there would be some temporary comfort for the young man in all of this, if he could even feel it at this point. As Rosalyn pounded at his body she concentrated more ku to her left hand. This emitted a gentle, soothing warmth from her entire hand. Normally her touch in this state could be considered very relaxing and stimulating to an already throbbing region. But under these circumstances it may be likely that her opponent wouldn't even notice the increased temperature to the back of his head.
Battle Information Wrote:Ku: 100%
Hot Touch:
Active Abilities:
Cool Downs:
5
Malkur felt her hand press, and he didn't wait. He didn't even think, the wild animal he was rearing its head in a most unfortunate way; if not a bit hilarious. Being pressed harder into her breasts he wrapped his arms tight around her, hugging her in a sense, and opened his mouth wide. With a powerful bite he clamped down, hard as human possibly could(which was more then enough to tear flesh) and started jerking his head back and fourth. Tearing at it like a shark did its prey once it got hold, and tear he certainly did.
He bit the left breast, likely tearing it shreds as he adjusted and shoved more into his mouth as ripped and teared. The first mouthful likely got him some dress along with the flesh, but it didn't slow him. Unless she found a way to now pry the young man off, she was gonna lose one and become the mighty uniboob, Goddess of Sluts or something to that effect.
CRACK
The whip assault went on and end, and with each strike he bit and teared harder. This wasn't the most taxing of motions or attacks, or really the most effective; but lets face it. Malkur was biting a chicks tit off, which was probably a first in H.o.H, well actually. Probably not. He didn't let up, but he had no more resistance to offer.
There was no 'valiant pull' or any real hope of a victory at this point. Now he was just causing as much damage as he could before she managed to pry him off her finish the job; but ******** her if he was going down without taking a good bit of her with him.
His body didn't even register he hot touch, the combination of the taste of blood in his mouth and the horrible pain of being badly beaten totally eclipsing it. In some perverse way, he was enjoying the feeling of tearing her apart with his jaws. If only because as a Ranger, he himself liked to fancy a bit of animal inside him.
It was showing, with bright colors.
[6]