[1 v 1] The Boiling Blood... (Kettil & Herryk) (Violent)

[bipolar bee]

That comment got Kettil another blow to his abdomen, this one with more force behind it.

"Freya was Herryk's once."

He leaned in close, snarling in the other boil's ear, taking perverse satisfaction in the way that Kettil's nails dug into his skin.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

HP: 26
DMG: 5
CHG: (battle cry y2 used, the eye y1 unused)  

[Pales]

Another gasp of air left his mouth. He was feeling hurt. Suddenly he let the boil's arm go and suddenly swung two punches at either side if Herryk's face, hard and determined.

"There's a difference between her being yours and her being mine. I don't plan to cut her out of my life as you had cut her out of yours. I don't plan to hurt her as you have," he snarled back.

He stumbled back a bit trying to create a bit of a distance, "If it didn't matter then why are you here? Why are you hitting me? Trying to destroy me? I'll just come back, Herryk. I'll come back and I'll show you just how much better I am."

The concept of losing to Herryk was moot now.

"You hurt Endy. You hurt Freya. You're going to pay for it. I'm going to take it out of your black skin and wear it like a ********' coat," he growled.

HP: 15/40
DMG: 6  

[bipolar bee]

Like a wounded dog, Herryk fell back. His ears were ringing from the harsh blow that Kettil had delivered, his whole head spinning and his vision blurring. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it to no avail.

Swinging wildly - and missing - Herryk let out a loud, animal-like growl.

"Do it. Do it. Do it."

If nothing else, the momentary dissipation would offer him a sort of sweet release from the troubles that plagued him.

"Show Herryk how much better you are, Kettil. Do it."

HP: 20
DMG: 0  

[Pales]

What did one do with a wounded dog as it fell back?

Most of the time Kettil would be sporting, kind, friendly.

This was different. The way his blood boiled in anger and frustration at this boil and the way he behaved. The fact that Herryk had come at him with no other intention than to harm him. His heart felt as if it was on fire with the hatred, the fire would consume him, he knew.

Somewhere nearby his Familiar stirred, she was disturbed by Kettil's behavior.

"I will."

Suddenly Kettil swung up a leg to kick Herryk squarely in the knee. "Kiss the ground, Herryk."

HP: 15/40
DMG: 5  

[bipolar bee]

Herryk fell hard, knees buckling as he braced himself on his palms. He could see the expression on Kettil's face, heard the tone of voice he used. Herryk's mouth contorted into a grimace of a smile, and he was silent. Waiting.

Hoping for the end.

If Kettil couldn't do it, Herryk would take him down - and then he'd move on in search of someone who could give him that pure, blissful moment of peace.

HP: 15
DMG: 0  

[Pales]

The smile that was directed toward him did nothing but make him angrier, his expression twisting into a rarely seen malice filled one. "You ******** deaf?" He hissed softly between clenched teeth as he circled around Herryk and aimed to give him a harder downward against the other boil's broad back. "I said kiss the ground."

He didn't even want Herryk to look at him anymore. To know that Freya still cared about this boil that cared not at all for her anymore made him angry and hurt.

Frustration seethed within him and tore at him just beneath his skin.

He could feel it.

"I hate you," he hissed finally.

"I hate that you take up so much of her mind. That you still have a space in her heart," he mumbled lowly. "You don't even ******** appreciate it."

HP: 15/40
DMG: 9  

[bipolar bee]

A low, maddened, maniacal laughter burst free from the draugr, and he was helpless to stop it.

"Kettil has always hated Herryk, mm? And where Freya has kissed Kettil while she belonged to Herryk," the draugr swept out a leg, intent on knocking the boil off of his feet, "so she will kiss other boils while belonging to Kettil."

The laughter continued despite his rapidly weakening state.

"Kettil's hate is a welcome thing. Perhaps he knows his relationship is already doomed."

HP: 6
DMG: 6  

[Pales]

Down he went falling down harshly. Words filtered in side him heating the furnace of hatred that now formed his heart. His breaths came in harsh gasps as his fingertips clutched at the snow.

"No. I hated you since you left her a broken thing. Not eating. Not caring about her appearance anymore. Not wanting to be...herself," his voice was hoarse, angry. He was trembling quietly as he spoke. Was it from cold? Perhaps it was his hatred...

"I ... I don't care how many boils she kisses during the day so long as ... I am the first she kisses at the start of the day and the last one she kisses at the end," he said firmly.

"I trust her. I trust her and you never did. Why? WHY." He drew himself up and suddenly flung himself at Herryk, intent on beating his head into the ground repeatedly.

"STOP SAYING THESE THINGS. SHE IS NOT A BAD GHOUL. SHE WAS NEVER BAD," he suddenly cried out. "SHE IS NO WHORE. SHE DID NOT SLEEP AROUND ON YOU ONCE. STOP ACTING LIKE SHE BETRAYED YOU."

HP: 9/40
DMG: 8  

[bipolar bee]

"Herryk left her this way? Herryk left her this way? Kettil is an idiot. Kettil is a foolish, foolish idiot - and why does it bother Kettil so badly. Herryk no longer cares."

He stopped attacking, no longer feeling the surge of anger rising in his throat. Only a strange, enveloping coolness that washed over him. He was intent on the freedom that his own dissipation would cause.

He thrived on the hate that Kettil directed onto him.

Each crash of his skull against the ground was only one more indication that he'd won this little battle. He'd incited such an anger in the other boil.

"Herryk was broken, too. Herryk was broken. Herryk is broken - and it doesn't matter anymore."

HP: -2  

[Pales]

He paused only a moment, his fingertips trembling at the sides of Herryk's head. He wasn't done. He just stared down at the face at the boil that was no longer fighting him or pushing at him to attack. Eyes still steeped in the hated and frustration he felt.

"You. Left. Her. That. Way." Ignoring the insults he brought his face close to Herryk's as his hands pulled at wisps of the Draugr's hair but not with much force. "You could have helped each other. Comforted each other. You could have fixed each other. You didn't even give her the chance to help you, not even a moment." He insisted softly.

"If you gave her the chance you had an odd way of showing it, Herryk. You take up her heart. Her mind. Everything. She thinks of you and cries, she misses you still and all you can say is that you no longer care. It no longer matters. "He felt sick. So sick.

Kettil drew back, "It matters to her. If I am a fool then you are the King of all fools, because you do not see how devoted she was to you and still is."

"Makes. Me. Sick. You don't even deserve her."

HP: 9/40
DMG: 0  

[bipolar bee]

"No. Freya hid from Herryk - when Herryk needed her, Herryk could not find her. Locked in her room, turned off her phone. Herryk needed Freya, but Kettil cannot comprehend what a selfish thing Freya did."

Herryk let out a rough, humorless laugh as he slashed his land through the air.

"Good. Herryk hopes that each time Kettil touches that pretty skin or smells that pretty hair, Kettil remembers that she was Herryk's first. Herryk hopes that Freya thinks of Herryk's touch when she is touching Kettil. Herryk hopes that Kettil is reminded constantly of Herryk - whenever Freya is feeling sad because of Herryk."

HP: -2  

[Pales]

"You could have gone to her. Opened the door. Hel and I sat and wondered where the ******** you disappeared to. Hel said so herself, you don't let Freya hide. You bust open her damned door and you let her know you are staying," he growled down at the Draugr.

Each word Herryk spat at him was like a knife twisting inside Kettil. It was like the Draugr was stirring a pot of vitriol spiced with the acid of jealousy. He stared down at the boil and no longer cared for talking sense into him. He no longer cared about making a point as his hands reached down and grasped him by the head once more.

"You might have been her first. I will be her last." He said as he inexpertly worked to snap the Draugr's neck. He hoped it brought him pain, and suffering. The sickening crack did nothing to Kettil.

There was no satisfaction from it.

"Just leave her. Leave her alone. Stop haunting her," his voice was hollow.

DMG: 7  

[bipolar bee]

There was a flash of satisfying brilliance that washed over Herryk. In inciting Kettil, he'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted. A brief moment free of troubling thoughts, insane desires, hungry rage. Just a moment, that's all he needed. A moment to feell nothing - a moment to just float away until he reformed in the nurses office.

A moment to feel normal, in control.

Part of him was glad it had been Kettil. Herryk could see how much the boil cared for the ghoul, no matter how sit it made him inside. At least she was happy now, not that it really mattered. He was so far gone that the spar had stopped being about Freya and Kettil. It had become something else entirely. A chance to breathe, a chance to set things right in his mind. A chance for peace. He'd said what he'd had to say to get to this point.

For a moment or two, it was bliss.  

[Pales]

Dissipation was Herryk's fate. The fact that Herryk hadn't fought it toward the end was the thing that suddenly sunk in. He'd given Herryk what he wanted and he wasn't sure it was a good thing. He stared down at the empty space that once held the Draugr's form.

He felt empty inside.

It didn't change how Freya felt. If she had seen what he had done she would probably hate him, he was so sure of it.

His heart gave a pained shudder as he suddenly flopped backwards onto the snow and stared skyward for a while. Kettil let the snow melt into the clothes he wore and still didn't move.

The cold seemed to stop the tears from coming.

Cold stopped the guilt and numbed the hurt he felt and cooled his rage.

After a moment or two he felt something on his chest. Tilting his head up he saw Endzela looking little ruffled on the edges but equally as sad. Would he be able to tell Freya?

Should he tell her?

His heart gave another hard clench at the indecision and he just laid there for a little longer. Maybe if he froze he wouldn't have to tell anyone a thing...