ORIGIN - A Monumental Task

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At the heels of Nidhogg's pitiful little roar came another one from Draconua, which climbed up and up into shrieking ferocity. It was a sound that tore through her throat. The profaned tentacle had long ago lost its grip on him, decaying into a putrid mass of Oily clots.

When her own magic finally relinquished its hold on her, the Sleepless Chaos shook herself. In the same motion, bloodied lips peeled back to expose all of that Cheshire grin. Black-stained as those fangs were, they stood stark against the crimson faceplate. They parted wide as she surged forward.

She brought her head down much like the guillotine slides down its rails, descending for whatever part of ~~Nidhogg~~ her enemy she could—her eyes were still clouded with dust, and now Oily residue. The blur of acidic points was all that was visible against Draco's darkened floor.

@Nidhogg

Well, as he fell, her head came down and that was terrifying. It was almost as bad as the roar she'd just emitted, a horrific screeching call that was definitely what a monster roar should be.

He managed--barely--not to squeak.

And instinct drove him, as the jaws came down--he was quick, a slithering oily serpent and avoiding the slow hit would be easy enough. But that wouldn't last long--she'd just try and try again. Nidhogg feinted--starting to dash around to Draconua's right, and then dodging over himself in a long-bodied scramble as she crashed toward him, trying to dip back the other way. To dodge past her toxic glow, to the other side, before she could snag him; a fake-out, in preparation for-...

...For what? Well, he hadn't thought that far ahead--there was no time for that--but if he could get alongside her instead of in front of that giant, leering, grinning, monstrous, blood-red, too-many-toothed, pitiless pit-eyed-face-...

That'd be nice.

He was left scrambling, though. Out in the open, but at least she hadn't bitten him in half.

Yet.

@Draconua

Teeth knocked against one another rather than flesh. Predictably, a guttural noise of frustration rasped out from them.

Mouth indicating some sort of squinting grimace, she tried—and failed—to track the light of Nidhogg. They blitzed to the side; she reared up, twisted her upper half, and threw the momentum downward in a stomping sort of twirl. Claws clattered against the floor with the motion, hooked wings jolting through the air. Her head whirled towards the vague smudge of movement, then shook itself again with a rasping roar.

If there was one thing to know about the Sleepless Chaos, it was that she was a noisy, unfocused combatant. Seldom a moment passed without a decibel of sound from her, however low. She did not have to be sleek or precise. Every form of chaotic power she knew was raw and uncontrollable—primal elements—and every attack was telegraphed.

She cracked her jaws wide and reared up again. As the impact of her feet rippled up her legs and through the earth, she bellowed with snapping teeth. Draco's underbelly exposed itself in a show of shattering ground and blackened stone rising in peaks; with her at the epicenter, still blindly snapping for where Nidhogg wasn't.

@Nidhogg

-And she was up, rearing, roaring, snapping, thundering down with shattering earth, darkness flickering over it and oh wasn't that delicious? Nidhogg had little time to bask in the wonder that this new and ferocious surge of chaos offered. Instead, he was turning, hissing as he tried to scamper clear of the worst of it, before he was crushed beneath her: this creator of chaos, this matron of devastation.

He felt the quills of his tail brush death, shattering slabs of stone behind him, and scrambled for a nearby wall; and this he scrambled up, reverting at once to his old standby of "if I'm on a wall, nobody can reach me." The worst of the damage, at least, did miss him, though the slither of corruption now rippled through his mind.

Nidhogg scurried out along a ledge--looking for a way to get out of Draconua's immediate vision, but not yet finding it--and paused, glancing out to see what she was doing. To see where she was, now. He was upside down, again, staring out at her in briefly frozen silence.

@Draconua

Away the bastard serpent went; with him, somehow, her episodic fury. She'd been left without a clear enough target to aim at—that, or, she had no object permanence. One or both of these things could be true. The former hadn't been a problem for her before, but... well—

Draconua screwed her eyes shut. Hooked claws snubbed along the edges of them, around them. Globs of Oil-and-dust came away, and clearer light flooded in. She only got as far as clearing out two sockets before the thrill of a chase gripped her.

Her head swung towards the glint of quills and putrid green, and she half-shambled in Nidhogg's direction.

There was a moment where she reached for another Oilslicked beast but—something pushed to the forefront, strangely foreign in its source. Her stone pulsed with it, and she swore she felt some strange vehemence or wrongness from it.

Yet, all that happened was... water just dribbling in a thin rivulet from her mouth.

... huh?

The Sleepless Chaos lingered on it for just a moment before licking along her chops and thundering forward. She reared up and braced herself against the wall, snapping upwards. To Vargas, the sight was a lot like a dog barking up a tree for a squirrel.

Nidhogg being the squirrel, of course.

@Nidhogg

In she came, thundering toward him, and suddenly his options seemed... rather limited. He could try and get higher but this ledge was in the way, and she was BIG and coming on QUICKLY. It wasn't the smartest thing--to launch toward a monstrous behemoth rushing for you jaws agape--but if he could maneuver well enough maybe he could launch out like a flying squirrel, or a gliding snake, and get a grip somewhere less... potentially deadly.

There wasn't fun in this--she was too terrifying--but there was some form of frightened exhilaration.

It was all or nothing, in Nidhogg's mind, and he gave it everything he had to make it "all." Muscles bunched, too many toxic-glow eyes calculating his own spring and her trajectory, as she came to lean against the wall, ready to snap up at him--and then he sprang, hoping to soar just past those angry jaws and twist, to get a grip on Draconua.

He couldn't possibly hope to do any real damage. Even at her neck or throat, his jaws likely wouldn't break much skin. But maybe he could... just... hold on.

Like a cowboy, but with his teeth. And also not human.

@Draconua

Nidhogg responded like a squirrel, too—launching himself out from his cover and smacking right into the base of her neck. Fortunate, because that was well out of reach of snapping jaws and stabbing wings. Hooked teeth caught fast on the folds of her neck.

Rather than being reasonable and taking things slowly (or, perhaps, rolling on top of the apparent pest) the Sleepless Chaos bucked. The spines of her wings flexed into their palms, but that form of resistance was futile. No amount of stretching or twisting could reach the serpent.

So, what does one do, faced with this apparently unremovable problem?

The smell of burning ozone and crack of chaotic lightning was answer enough. A wheezing roar rattled from her lungs as a bolt leapt from one part of her body to another: directly into her open mouth. The buzz thundered through her entire form, an uncontrollable cataclysm. Her limbs quivered disobediently, jerking with passing paralysis. No matter how Draconua attempted to brace herself, she was doomed to topple sideways.

Embarrassing.

@Nidhogg

Nidhogg was just about ready to screech in fear--without letting go, of course, because that was terrifying--when electricity zapped and arced across Draconua's hide. He wasn't sure what was happening, and whatever it was happened too fast to really process anyway: a slash of bright voidlight, the spasm of muscles beneath him and the sudden toppling of his bucking, mighty steed.

Which, honestly, was more like a falling building.

Nidhogg released his grip with a hiss, leaping to bound clear of her falling form. But there wasn't much to get a grip on; she was soft, there were long fibers or hairs and the next thing he knew he was tangled just long enough to get smooshed beneath the muscled neck. She might have been paralyzed but Nidhogg was pressed beneath her, flailing uselessly and scrabbling at the rock in a fruitless attempt to get free.

Toxic tongue darted out as if to taste the air. "LET ME UP! OUT OUT OUCH OUT-" His struggled paused for a beat, head turning to peer sidelong at the beast half-crushing him. "THIS IS TRAINING?!" he demanded, loudly. It was more coherent than his usual, but bemused shock prompted it. It didn't seem like something he'd ever need to train for. And anyway, weren't there better ways to beat him up?!

@Draconua

To be honest, the valkhound hadn't even noticed that Nidhogg had somehow slipped underneath her and was being squashed beneath her neck. All she'd really known in the heat of the moment was white-hot fury in the form of chaos. Even while her limbs were twitching and her brain slowly came back to grips with existing, the serpent's hissing and scrabbling went without acknowledgement.

Once he started talking, Draconua snapped into reality and forced her head to gaze at him. Her tongue felt like an Oilsoaked cottonball in her mouth. She, unsteadily dragging herself upwards, was practically drooling the substance. Every muscle resisted motion, pulling painfully taut in all directions.

She failed to form words with her mouth, so instead she hobbled forward to snag Nidhogg with it instead; and to fling him as far as she could. ... assuming he'd not already gotten back up and started back in biting.

If it helped, she also nodded her head in response to the question.

Oh, Creator, this was miserable.

@Nidhogg

He scrabbled up, hissing, wincing, and then she was throwing him--he sailed, a cut-off screech and then a hissing escaping him as he flew, struck the rock, tumbled, rolled.

His body was coiled, snakelike and limp, and for a moment he simply lay there--nearly-closed eyes peering back toward Draconua. But he didn't move; it was as though he'd been knocked out.

He waited like that, for a moment, waited for it to seem (even if only to him) that Draconua would buy it, that he'd been killed or dead or unconscious or asleep or whatever--and then to bolt as soon as he felt she had dropped her attention for even an instant. Surely she was gonna take a look at... whatever she'd done to herself, right-?

Nidhogg went from limp to bolting in a heartbeat, scrabbling up and bounding away. His hope was that she'd look away, then look back and he'd be gone; but his claws were certainly scratching at the rock with enough noise, if she paid any attention whatsoever.

attempted exit

@Draconua

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