Imeeji Idol Productions ([personal profile] idolpro) wrote2022-02-25 06:55 pm

The Last Supper - Hunting Grounds

[ Chosen idols will find themselves abruptly taken, in their unit's room one moment and out in a courtyard the next. An impossibly tall and incredibly dense garden hedge divides the courtyard into sections—moreover, it increasingly gets taller when climbed, preventing its residents from escaping their slice of the courtyard.

A few sparse bushes and trees decorate the area, but there's nothing to keep the hunted away from the hunter.

Everyone will find their unit powers are off. However, Hands and Mouths can feel the power deep within themselves—they can grasp that power and turn into their monster form, should they desire so. Hands will find themselves in a natural disadvantage, however: they're much smaller than their Mouth counterparts, diminutive in size, and moreover, while they acquire whatever claws and teeth their monster form affords them, Mouths are capable of strength beyond that—faster agility and strength at minimum, though they may also have supernatural abilities, such as the ability to breathe fire. ]
worthathousand: (❦ would it be enough to live on)

Re: R1 MOUTH vs HAND

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ ...oh this is going to be awkward. ]

Will you not fight back?
The nature of this game—

[ already her fingertips going clawed, and something that might be red petals or scales gathering at the edges of her cheeks ]

...I am told that I will not be... wholly myself, when we fight. Nor will you.
identitypolitics: (232)

Re: R1 MOUTH vs HAND

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-26 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
That's all right.

[ the self is only a construct, etc etc ]

I'll try my best to keep up, but this isn't really my battlefield. I know when I'm outmatched, Ma'am. I'm just doing my job.
worthathousand: (as a child you would wait ❦)

Re: R1 MOUTH vs HAND

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
As am I. For the sake of our units.

And, though I truly bear no ill will against you... necessity alone doesn't mean what happens here is right.

[ the scales—that is definitely what they are—are multiplying, red and gold together ]

...Shall we begin?
identitypolitics: (33; turning)

Re: R1 MOUTH vs HAND

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-26 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
Unless you're willing to give me a week or so, I think we'd better get to it.
worthathousand: (❦ discusing till heat envelops the latch)

1/2

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
This will not truly be the best demonstration of our skills.
But I would not have felt right fighting someone who I did not believe had even a chance to challenge me.

2/2

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ and then there is a kind of shudder that goes through her, and a riffle of motion over her skin as the scales settle into place, even as her spine stretches and extends.

she opens her mouth as if to give a last faint smile, but her face is extending into jaws, and the scales blooming out from the crown of her head—at first like the sepals of a flower, and then twisting into horns.

the naginata hits the ground with a soft clatter, and she rises on new feet. ]
identitypolitics: (05; as I crossed a field)

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-26 05:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ cool

cool cool cool cool cool

well. she did stick a knife up her sleeve but this is really a bringing a knife to a dragonfight situation and...




her insides hurt. nauseahungernauseafearand she clutches at her midsection with new, spindly, shadowy hands, but she isn't so much controlling it as it's kind of spilling out. ]

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hunger. Oh, it's so much more intense like this.
And that one—still so close to mortal. Easy pickings, but—

A roar of light and heat, red-gold flames licking at the edges of the sound. Don't waste her time.

She leaps into the air, trailing red camellia petals, beginning an arcing loop around Saffron that threatens to become a charge.
identitypolitics: (182)

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-26 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ the hands scrabble upwards, and there's more of them, her form almost blurring or dissolving at the edges.

saffron doesn't really notice. just—waits, transfixed by the sight. damn. now that's a flying creature. ]

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-26 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well, isn't that interesting: how much more of her there could be. Spilling out of her like her body was a failing dam.
—Or like entrails.

More to eat, regardless.

This body is new to her and strangely familiar all at once; it tells her how to move. She drops her weight forward into a spiraling dive, a corona of golden heat building around her as her claws extend into a great swipe. ]
identitypolitics: (Default)

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-26 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the problem is, when you have all these spindly hands, and you're only half in control of them—

you're still in a fight with an enormous fuckoff dragon. the hands grasp at her own head, like trying to forestall a splitting headache, and also brace against the descending dragon's snout, but it's hardly enough, and they shred so quickly under the strike of those claws, even though there are more growing to replace them. ]

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] worthathousand 2022-02-27 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ She tears the ??meat?? of the arms from her claws; tosses them a moment before catching them in her teeth and swallowing them down. The flavor is bland; bloodless but nevertheless distinctly edible.

It will do.

Another corona of light begins channeling around her—an anima of camellia petals and banners of red-gold flame. Another dive, the flames circling around her; this time, it isn't a swipe, but a grab—as of an eagle plucking up a fish. ]
identitypolitics: (240)

Re: 2/2

[personal profile] identitypolitics 2022-02-27 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ there's like, a point on the pain scale where coherent words are kind of a no go so mostly at this point, she's just breathing raggedly between screaming—the blood coming from her arms trailing away like smoke where it falls. ]