it burns all clean

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

The sun has made its cycle through the sky and has disappeared again, sinking away beneath the horizon and leaving Ronin alone. It suits him well enough - the world boils around him, and there is nothing but the world beneath his wings and the horror that tears out of his throat. It isn't fire, not quite - too silent and too bright for that - but it's hot enough to blast the sands of the desert to glass.

His size and comparative grace are at odds with the storm that roils within - reptilian blue eyes ever seek new destruction, and at the sight of a few travellers winding along the road below, Ronin wastes no time. He is all but invisible against the stars, such that those he hones in on don't see him coming until it's far too late. Something bright and deadly lights up in his throat, and as soon as his jaws open, it will be too late for them to run.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

i've been sleepwalking and wandering all night

Too late to run, but not too late to be saved.

The manticore doesn't need to rely on heartbeat rings or intuition to find the dragon. Not when there have been stories of a new hellish monster ravaging the desert. He doesn't even need to scent the air or use his keen eyesight to try and pick Ronin out from the stars; the attuned bond that sings between them, a horrifyingly familiar melody of grief and a lust for destruction, is enough.

So it is that the manticore positions himself to take the brunt of celestial fire that would have snuffed out three lives in the twinkle of seconds. Pain ravages his body, though whether or not it damages him anymore or less simply because of who and what Ronin is to him, he can't say. Remi doesn't bite back his snarl of pain and outrage as his golden body is thrown askew, though he wastes little time in forcing himself to his feet.

ENOUGH, he snarls into what appears to be an empty sky above; Remi's muscles coil beneath his skin as his ears flatten into his swath of mane.

trying to take what's lost and broke and make it right

Coding base by Sky!

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

The fury at a lost kill echoes through the air in an inhuman roar unlike any other. There is no Ronin here to reply to Remi's outrage, only scales and talons and a mind as cold and calculating as it is bloody-minded. And so when the dragon lands among the sand and glass, it's without any intention of parlay or chit-chat. Sleek black claws bite into the ground, a ridged tail whipping across the sand, and wings flare in challenge.

Just kill him, the dragon in him suggests, reasonably, softly, like velvet. It wouldn't take much, and he's just in the way anyway. Ronin's maw opens and he roars out another challenge - or is it a warning? He's too far gone to tell. Either way, it's with a bubbling growl that his serpentine head lowers, eyes blank and feral, wanting nothing but blood and violence.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

i've been sleepwalking and wandering all night

The dragon is the larger predator, with teeth just now that are about the size of Remi's paws. Even so, the manticore doesn't back down even as the sleek creature lands. Destroy what you will out here. But I will not let you become a murderer. There is no judgement in the melody of Remi's mental voice. He knows far too well what it is to be encased in fury only to find yourself suddenly in a body capable of grotesque destruction. Once, long ago now, Remi had nearly killed a man who had come to check on him to make sure he was alright. It had been Ronin then who'd managed to drag Remi into a pit where he could sort through his violence alone from the world.

Now it seemed Remi would return the favour. Only...there weren't pits large enough to throw dragons into, which posed a bit of a problem.

Behind him, the family of three rushes into their caravan, trying desperately to convince their mule to run. Hearing this and not needing to turn around to see the calamity of errors taking place, Remi fans his wings. But then, you are quite slow. He taunts, needing only to keep Ronin's attention long enough for the family to escape.

trying to take what's lost and broke and make it right

Coding base by Sky!

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

I already am a murderer. The voice doesn't even really sound like Ronin, almost purring through the Attuned bond at Remi. Or has he forgotten Skyler, beaten to death under the weight of Ronin's own knuckles? And that was before dragons and manticores, before Aoife had been killed, before everything had gone so compeltely and utterly to shit. He'd already been a murderer even then.

The dragon is almost distracted by the fleeing family, by the mule frozen in terror, before the barb cuts through and the beast's pride is riled up. Try me, he suggests, a talon lancing up to swipe heavily at the manticore. Even as he moves, his wings beat down to stir up the sand, a gesture that will slow him down, as if some part of him is reluctant. Some small, hidden part.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

i've been sleepwalking and wandering all night

Not of anyone innocent. Remi counters evenly, hardly counting Skyler as anything at all. He'd deserved every ounce of pain that he felt before Ronin's flying fists finally pushed the life from his bones.

Though it goes against every instinct he has, Remi doesn't bother to evade the dragon's attack. He can't. Dodging to either side—or even up into the air—opens an easy pathway toward the frantic family who are not helping matters at all given how much they're screaming in terror. Opening a large cut into the thick muscle of Remi's shoulder, the manticore is swept sideways and temporarily blinded by sand. Snapping his eyes closed and giving his head a shake, Remi bares his teeth. A slap? Is that all you can do? You hardly deserve the teeth in your mouth much less the body you are in.

Despite the blood flowing freely from his shoulder, the manticore lunges into the sky. He's more agile than a dragon is, but Ronin will likely be faster based on sheer wing size alone. Even so, Remi has a plan for that, if only he can get the dragon into the air.

trying to take what's lost and broke and make it right

Coding base by Sky!

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

If Remi's plan is to permanently shove his husband into the mind of a predator, so deep into its depths that he never comes back out, he's doing a very good job of it. The family (stupid, buzzing gnats in comparison to the blood that fills the air from the cuts opened against Remi's shoulder) are lost to him now, Ronin's wings flaring, muscles tensing to propel him into the air after the manticore.

And since it's his teeth that Remi has mocked, this time it's the dragon's jaws that part, intending to snap around the manticore's flank and sink in deep. You deserve a lot less than what I am about to give you, he snarls, all four sets of talons tucked in close now to keep himself as sleek and agile as possible.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

then it went dark

It's precisely his plan, actually. Ronin is clever and knows Remi too well. The dragon? The dragon is presumably blinded by the onslaught of everything that is new and bright in its mind: the smell of blood, the taunt of another predator, the nearness of death.

Still, the pain of Ronin's jaws around his body is nearly enough to break the alchemist's concentration. Strong as Remi is, there's an extra layer of pain that comes with the fact that this is Ronin. This is his one and only, his forever. The man to whom Remi will always run when things get hard. The only one he wants, despite irrevocable and unchangeable evidence to the contrary that will never quite go away. It hurts all the more because this could kill him—and still might, really—but if not with Ronin, there is no Remi.

So in the end, there's really no choice at all.

As the pain becomes monumental and Remi's body begins to sag beneath the force of the dragon's jaws, he shifts. He grows. He grows. He grows.

Large enough to twin himself easily around the dragon, as Ronin's jaws continue to grind into what is now the meaty portion of his body, the kraken's tentacles wind around the beast heedless of the fact that this will necessarily pull them from the skies.

& it rained
and rained and rained

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

Remi gets exactly what he wants. Blood fills the dragon's mouth, sweet and coppery and endless, and his jaws lock around the manticore's flank. He even manages to give the beast a vicious little shake before there's suddenly more manticore than there was a second ago. A lot more. And it's not really fur and flesh that's locked between his jaws now, but it isn't not.

The weight alone is enough to drag them out of the skies and back towards the desert floor, and the limbs that squeeze and lock around Ronin are as effective as they are infuriating. Tearing his teeth out of the kraken that he might let out a grating shriek towards the stars, they hit the ground hard enough to shatter the layer of glass that shines upon it. And now it's a grappling match, and the dragon is at a disadvantage at last, though his tail and talons do thrash and rend in an attempt to get free.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

then it went dark

Long lines of red pour from the kraken's rubbery limbs, but the tension doesn't release even as he bleeds, and falls, and crashes. Remi knows he can't. If he does, the dragon will tear him apart only to leave his carcass behind that he might hunt down the caravan. It is this, or nothing else, and somehow because of how sweetly simple it is, Remi's mind sighs into the battle almost lovingly.

Blood is not as slippery as one might think, not against rubber and scales anyway. As it coats the both of them where the dragon's talons and teeth make contact, it grows sticky and gleams black in the moonlight. Like some grotesque spider-python hybrid, Remi squeezes the dragon. He does his best to try and wrap his tentacles around Ronin's neck to render it uncomfortably pulled back that he might stop Ronin's jaws from snapping, while at the same time coiling himself around his limbs to try and stop them as well.

& it rained
and rained and rained

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

It's a test of endurance, of who will last the longest - and if not for the tentacle that comes snaking around his neck, cutting off air, the dragon's money would be on himself. There's blood everywhere, more cuts gushing red with each rake of his talons, and he unleashes a deafening roar of fury and frustration when the limbs just keep fucking coming. His struggles continue, though, long after one might expect them to stop, jaws snapping at nothing, claws rending the air.

Fuck you, comes the eventual snarl, Ronin forced into submission with one last angry toss of his head. His chest heaves, fighting for a breath, ridged tail limp in the sand. I hope you fucking die out here.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

then it went dark

If I do, you will die in my arms. The kraken groans back, his voice not quite a snarl in this form, but instead sounding like something large grating against the seafloor. Still, he sounds smug in a way he hopes burns at whatever remains of his husband's stores of energy. Whatever he has been successful in doing up until this point, it is not enough, not by far. Though Remi has the endurance to outlast the dragon, he is far more the wounded of the two making their odds much more balanced than he would like. Now, the only thing he might do is force the air out of his husband's lungs such that he passes out and is forced into his own body. Then, and perhaps only then, can he be knocked into a dream where his fury can be released victimlessly.

Or, perhaps the Lullaby will just let the Huntsman sleep.

So even as Remi's mind considers darkness for itself, even as the tips of his tentacles grow cold and sluggish, he continues to tighten them around his prey. Doing his best to bind Ronin's throat up and at an angle.

& it rained
and rained and rained

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

There is only silence in response to that, though it's not certain just why, at first. It could be the way that the tentacle starts to choke him out in earnest, or the way his mind is singularly focused on escape, on violence and snuffing out the life that is trying its luck around him. But as the dragon begins to fade, as it gives its final thrashes of frustration and rage, it gives a chance for the Huntsman beneath to get a word in edgeways.

I can think of worse things than dying in your arms, you know. His voice is hoarse and quiet, as if from screaming or crying, before that fades as well. And as consciousness leaves him, the starry reptile shrinks away entirely. Ronin is lost in the tangle of kraken limbs, covered in blood and bruises that will quickly start to rise to the surface.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

REMI

i've been sleepwalking and wandering all night

How about sleeping, then. The Lullaby offers. With each of his suckers gripping the dragon, Remi is able to feel more or less instantly as his husband begins to shrink. Though he lets himself release the dwindling star, the alchemist waits until he feels only the bodyweight of a man against him, breathing slowly and rhythmically, before shifting himself. Ronin was cunning, but dragons he thought, might be more cunning still. Should the huntsman only be pretending, it would be a mistake for Remi to let him go too soon. One that would cost him his life, if it hadn't already.

Returning to his manticore form, Remi takes a moment to survey his injuries. Are they life-threatening? Gods, he has no real idea. He doesn't think so, but then, dying as an immortal likely didn't follow the normal course of things. Maybe it was easier for Ronin to kill him.

Remi's tawny fur, caked in blood that looked black but smelled sweet, he curls around his husband's unconscious form. Nights were surprisingly cold in the desert after all, and while Remi wasn't sure if his body had the energy to provide enough heat to keep them both warm, it was certainly better than nothing. Weary in a way that work on their houseboat was supposed to cause, the alchemist's breath is irregular and shallow as his body continues to bleed and flirt with death.

trying to take what's lost and broke and make it right

Coding base by Sky!