estoria | (closed) let it be hell

Who:

flimsylies
When: IC 6/16
Where: Ending in some abandoned area...
What: The magician tracks down the spider. It was never going to be pretty.
Rating/Warning: Heavy violence, Hisoka's everything. May be locked.

Every day of peace is a lie. This Chrollo can sense in general, no matter how much he keeps to himself and puts on a smiling face for those who he knows he'll sink claws into because they would be useful to surround himself with. The colony was deluding itself if they thought they were safe, with the Flamines growing ever less patient and how he can remember that in stories, places like this never lasted. So he plans, and he makes plans for plans, and he's going to wait for opportunity.

Not to mention the challenge he'd put forth to Zero. That was of a more personal nature, even if he'd not admitted it. Constantly needing to be aware now. It added another level onto what he had to do - keeping his aura close and cloaked enough to seem as though it was still bound, while ready to defend himself with it at a heartbeat's notice. Difficult, not impossible, and it provides for an interesting mental challenge. It wouldn't be so if the first conditions weren't there, but when he finds Hisoka again - when, not if, avoiding him forever will be the impossibility - he doesn't want to chance him knowing before Chrollo wants to play that card. Pretending to be weak is the only way, until he has the freedom to die or the motivation to destroy.

Though death, he knows, doesn't last. Neither will his luck. So when he senses Hisoka's energy again, he knows confrontation is inevitable. But for a few seconds more, he can still walk down the street, back straight and outwardly seeming unaware of Hisoka's presence. He won't run, won't look at him. Still, he'll force the magician to speak and move his hand before he can get anything at all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course he knows. Of course it was an obvious trick, but one Chrollo had needed to try regardless. Speed meant nothing when he could be pulled off trajectory. But a plan's already in his head, a finale that requires he play along just enough that Hisoka won't see it coming.

The blow hurts, but his other hand is free, and it goes for Hisoka's throat. If he won't loosen his grip on Chrollo, neither will Chrollo pass up the chance to try and force him to do so - if he can grab, he'll waste no time before his grip tightens, harsh enough to bruise and cut off air.

Hisoka's smile, so close and so grim and so full of hate and lust is far too close to Chrollo's face, almost the suggestion that he just might bite. Instead it's a smooth motion, arm swinging up and around to bring his elbow down onto Chrollo's arms, then switching the trajectory to smash the elbow up again, an easy rotation of his shoulder to send the bone of it up at the spider's nose. So little consideration for Chrollo's pretty face!

"You can do better," he challenges.

He has to let go of Hisoka's throat, but he has the sense of mind to jerk his head back so the elbow misses his nose. Just barely, just enough that he wouldn't have to accept a broken nose on top of everything else. Bruises are one thing, blood another, broken a third.

"Is that what you want?"

By only millimeters, Hisoka's under his skin. Not deeply, not far enough to warrant being serious, but enough that he isn't inclined to keep taking blows without reason. The place he was before Cerealia happened, before Chrollo had that moment of breathing room.

Of course it's what he wants, and he takes that as a rhetorical question, in fact. With his throat released, his shoulder dips suddenly dramatically downward, the briefest tell before all his weight has shifted onto the stronger of the two legs. A feat accomplished through improbable strength and flexibility, the length of his leg comes wheeling like a haymaker. An easy attack to dodge for its large windup, but devastating if it hits. It's a feint more than anything else, to force Chrollo to move back so that Hisoka can then have more options in followup.

A chance to get behind the little spider, perhaps.

Except he's not falling back. His eyes narrow, and before it hits, Chrollo's raised his arm to block - but there's something else there, something that has been absent for a while now. The strong flow of aura, hardened into something for defense. Moving forward, he lets go of the suppression he's been maintaining, and his aura surges out in a fierce wave. At this distance, for a normal person it would have them flat on their back from impact.

Really, he shouldn't, he thinks, but he's relying on the sudden force being surprising even if for a second and his own speed to carry this through. At the same time he moves forward, he feels his book manifest in his hand, and he doesn't have to look to know where to open the pages to. Teleportation.

One heartbeat, they're on the street, the next, the dark area of the colony. The part of the city that is ruined, a testament to some sort of failure with the buildings broken down, the technology gone dead and unusable, where some things just hang on by a thread. He knows exactly where he put them. On top of one of the few buildings that still has stories of height, unstable though it is. A place to get a decent vantage point of some of the area.

Or well, he's there, on the edge. Hisoka's been brought with him to land in empty space, to plummet down if he can't think fast enough.

You know. Motherfucker. You made him happy for like a whole three seconds until you dropped him on his head.

Hopefully that'll be a big enough shock to his system to get him to calm down. Chrollo's only watching long enough to see Hisoka make an impact before he teleports away, gone to where he can tend to his injuries and smile as he replays the moment in his head.

Have fun getting out of there, Hisoka. Don't get ripped apart by things when there's no one to stitch you back together.

(closed) let it be hell

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