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tampered2006-11-29 02:06 am
bitingnightmare.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-29 02:06 am
Log; Complete
When; Nov. 27 (evening)
Rating; PG-13 (language, violence)
Characters; John Constantine (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare), Elle Driver (venomouselle)
Summary; answering the challenge of a beast, incited to riot by this, and Elle arrives to lend a hand
Log;
A challenge huh? Did Constantine remember he was a shit fighter? His lupine pelt was still fairly new, where as this killer was two millennia old and the creature within... well, that was a different story. The nightmare backed away from the magus, body language signifying a predator ready to sink its teeth and claws into the other's hide.
"What you gonna do, old man," he purred, taunting.
---
"Hostile removaarrrrl..."
Constantine stood up, shifting into what he decided would be the most effective combination between both selves, crafting himself into a sort of werewolf. The white fur had curled around what had shown, which the slightly altered shape had been mostly concealed by the trench coat. His head was mostly lupine, complete with the large teeth, snout and ears. Sharp claws had poked out from under the nail beds.
"Alrright fuckerrr, last chance."
---
The white horror beckoned at the changed man, unfazed by the fur and fangs. One could even say it sparked his adrenaline rush, so foreign and still so familiar. A quick flick of his wrist removed the knife from his pocket, exposing the sharp blade. One little weapon against the magician's bio arsenal.
"Come take out the trash," he urged Constantine, teeth eyes smiling viciously behind his glasses.
---
"Gladly," Constantine growled, charging Cori with a clawed hand pulled back, ready to tear at his face. Fuck any damage he'd cause. Cori'd heal.
---
The magus was large and armed to the claw, but the Corinthian was quick like the shadows. He ducked under the oncoming paw and threw his shoulder into the wolfman's waist. The blade swung around in a wide curve, eager to find a snug space between John's ribs.
---
Oh yes, he was shite at fighting, but something snapped inside of him. He took a full brunt of the blow, letting out an angered grunt, but a clawed hand caught the oncoming blade arm. The grip was firm and hard, the claws digging in.
---
Strong enough to prevent the tip from pushing through his thick fur, but he was just as equally matched. The Corinthian held his own despite the blood welling beneath those claws and the bone that wanted to fracture from Constantine's pull. He couldn't help but smile and pull his shades away, revealing eyeteeth that were just that and nothing more. He tossed the glasses aside then reversed his grip on the blade, twisting its edge towards the wolf's wrist.
---
Constantine first tried to avert the gaze, then... it didn't do anything. One accidental glance that could have spelled the end and nothing.
Good.
The power struggle continued, but Constantine brought his free claw over, ready to tear off the nightmare's head. He found himself brimming over with a mad electric strength. Not sure whether to accept that wolves were naturally stronger than humans or that Hircine gave him a few points for entertainment, but whatever, it worked in his favor.
---
Little did the possessed nightmare know this wasn't natural. He was unaware of the power a single look contained, too wrapped up in a lust for blood and meat. All three mouths grit briefly, the wolfman was tougher than he appeared. With his hand still caught the Corinthian used his smaller size to his advantage. He set one foot on the beast's thigh and leapt upward again to strike Constantine's jaw with his knee. If only the damned thing would let go.
---
That did it. Constantine roared, stumbling back. He shook his massive shaggy head, stunned, lips curled back and teeth bared.
---
Unfortunately he didn't land with the grace of a feline, not having all his faculties in order, but the nightmare recovered by rolling into a low crouch. Teeth bared, the beast was angry with him, how touching. His tongues licked at the smooth white and his blade gestured for Constantine to come again, as blood trickled down and off his elbow.
---
John was indeed very angry at this point, his mouth hung in an open growl while his eyes reflected a brutal melding of both the beast's primal anger and the Englishman's own. He did not lunge, however, his ears flattened subconsciously as a gesture of threat and possibly on the defense.
---
Not moving? Perfect. He lunged forward first but stopped short to throw the balisong at the wolfman, targeting the shoulder for a distraction. There were bigger knives about, the Corinthian remembered, and he reached for the Hanzo katana hidden under the couch, something far bigger than teeth and claws alone. He happened to know how to use it too.
---
Another roar. Despite his faster reflexes, the knife still caught in the arm meant to swipe it away. Once that was torn out, red staining the blade and coat, he whirled towards the Corinthian, finding him with the very sword he had been bluffing and threatening with.
Shit.
Too late when he was finished with the balisong. Already Cori was ready and he'd be fucking stupid to lunge.
---
"Not such hot shit now," growled the nightmare, unsheathing the blade and tossing the scabbard aside. He took the hilt in both hands then charged at Constantine, eager to cut off a claw or two.
---
Elle frowned deeply. Some little shit smeared gum on the elevator buttons. The stairs sounded appealing after all. Skipping steps she thought about the only Hattori Hanzo sword in her possession. She couldn't get to the door soon enough to her liking.
Not being one to knock she tried the handle.
"Oh yeah, cute boys. NOW you lock your doors." Lifting her fist to knock, she paused ever pore on her skin prickling at the very faint distinct sound of beautiful tempered steel being pulled from its encasement. "Fucking cocksucker....Open up!"
---
John's teeth were bared this time, but it was hardly a fierce look. Instead, he threw himself to the side, bounding in the confines of the room on all fours while the nightmare pursued him. He could only imagine how fucking stupid this whole scene looked. At least until he heard the angry female voice at the door. He could only guess who that was. And well, what a time for the damn door to be locked.
Constantine made a mad dash for the door, those ridiculous claws of his making the task of undoing the locks all the more complicated.
---
Fucking laugh and a half! And the Corinthian certainly laughed it up but it was hardly comical, his mind far too gone and out there to even be considered witty. He took a slash at the animagus, the blade so precise it cut through the hairs that tossed upward from John's escape. Thought he could make it to the door? Seriously.
"Fuck if you think this'll be easy," growled the nightmare. He took a swing downward, aiming for the man's skull though taking a few locks out with it would probably be to their benefit.
---
Gritting her teeth furiously, Elle kicked at the door repeatedly. She had to wear her nice boots heeled boots today. Oh yeah. Had to try and kind of look pretty, she thought more than pissed now. Kicking wasn't working. She grabbed the nearest garbage can by the elevator and threw it against the door. The wood splintered but didn't break.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"
The shouting within did nothing to keep her calm. "What the shit are you doing in there? It's not a toy!" Again she heaved the garbage can against the door, at last it pressed through and spilled into the apartment.
---
No lock. No dog. Constantine barely got out of the way in time, yelping as the sword took a good bit of his shoulder instead of impaling him through the skull. He was rolling this time, back to the running around the room game as soon as he got back on his feet again. At the very least, John noticed, glancing briefly at the door before launching himself away from another swing of the sword, the visitor, no doubt Elle, sounded pretty damn determined to get in.
To his benefit. His new trench coat was already blotted with red from the two wounds. Where did he throw that damn balisong?
---
"Fuck," hissed the Corinthian, missing his mark only to have the door bust open in his face. The sword thrust through the doorway first, not the safest way to greet a California Mountain Snake. His teeth eyes were unmasked too, but the nightmare didn't have any power to speak of regarding The Look anymore. They were simply mouths, snarling mouths.
Elle. Elle in front of him. John behind him. And that balisong tossed somewhere on the floor. He still had the bigger weapon.
---
Elle Driver had seen enough of the City to know that crazy shit happened. This was more than a little bit of a mind bend. She narrowly ducked to avoid being pierced by her own sword. The blood on the religiously polished blade told her that they had been playing awhile now. She wasn't sure which sight riled her more--Wolfman, Denture Vision or someone else using her sword. Within the assassin's mind, the Corinthian may as well have been screwing her boyfriend right in front of her.
"What the fuck is going on here?!"
---
No time to answer. The Corinthian's back was turned and Constantine lunged instead, one hundred and sixty pounds of pseudo werewolf flung at the nightmare without a roar or growl.
---
"Fuck off," he snarled and readied to stick Elle with her own sword. John was too quick for him to notice otherwise. Before he could even raise the blade the magus was on him, toppling the nightmare to the floor as the katana slid from his fingertips.
---
Seeing her chance to reclaim her weapon. "Come to momma." Elle slid across the floor, wrapping her fingers around the smooth handle. Once the two were reunited, she pressed her thin-heeled boot to the back of the trench coat wearing Wolf Man. "Johnny I presume?" The tip of the Hanzo sword sat poised against the Corinthian's throat. "I heard he was pissy, not psychotic."
---
"Rrrrighhtr." John held the nightmare to the floor, pinned for now unless he tried something. At the very least he was significantly stronger in this state, but not overwhelmingly so. "Bitrr eachrr."
---
"Nnrgh," the Corinthian struggled against the wolf magus. Speed meant little when the man had his weight on top of him. Then there was that Hanzo sword, already stained red. Now its tip was at his throat.
All three mouths hissed.
"Fucking bitch, get the fuck off me. I'll rip your damn eyes out," growled the nightmare, relentless in his struggle to free a hand even if it meant getting it broken or having his neck staked by steel.
---
"Cori, I love your fag ass but you've been a bad, bad boy," the California Mountain Snake replied. She pressed the blade tip against the pale skin of the nightmare's neck. "And I think boys like that need to be punished even if they are fucking out of their mind." The three snapping sets of jaws were unsettling--confusing to say the least.
"I'm not going to shank you before you try to explain your sorry ass." A dark bead of blood rolled from the small break in the skin.
---
"Canrr dorr anythingrr, canr yurrr?" A clawed paw grasped the nightmare's head. Tempted he was to impale it through the sword. Might clear up whatever he had.
---
"Go fuck yourself, bitch," the Corinthian snapped at Elle despite the tip drawing blood from him. He struggled regardless, making the wound even worse. "Kill me, dare you to try," he issued the challenge to the both of them. By now the commotion must have drawn some attention from the building, but the threat of slugs and the general nature of the city was enough to keep them from interfering.
"Use your magic, piece of shit," the white horror laughed, neck strained from the grasp of John's clawed hand.
---
If she didn't think that there was something amiss with the Corinthian, Elle certainly did now. It's suicide to writhe and taunt with a sword at your neck, no matter who you were.
"I don't try, Cori. I do."
The Hanzo was in continual motion by Elle's true desire to harm the nightmare or by its own driven need to bathe itself in blood it sunk deeper into flesh. Elle herself blinked in shock. This was turning out to be a bad trip rather than a simple trip to pick up a possession of hers. "Shit."
---
"Therrrr hearddrrr," John snarled. The slugs went in there, didn't there? Headache and all, fucked up mind. There was no other place to stick a mad parasite other than the brain and sticking an immortal through the head certainly wasn't going to be the end of him. "Thrrrrughrr therr teetherrr." He'd never get used to talking through large, sharp teeth.
---
"Don't unmake me, you don't have the power to unmake me," snarled the nightmare. Well that very well may have been true but Cori did take a bullet to the head once and lived to tell the tale. "Back off, fucking back off." His gaze had turned to Elle, though he doubt there was any sympathy to which he could appeal.
---
The Corinthian looked like he was strange enough to endure a sword pierce through the head. The pointy object in the eye socket image at John's words did make her cringe inside. But, what's a swordy in the head between friends?
Elle carefully lifted the blood smeared sword tip to Cori's left eye socket. "Say 'Ah'." Holding her breath, she shoved it horizontally between teeth. The gnashing noise made her sick to her stomach.
---
John did not flinch nor squeeze his eyes shut; the macabre was home to him. He watched the sword slide through, hopefully piercing whatever it was and taking care of it for good. Still, he kept his grip on Cori, careful to avoid the blade protruding on the other side, but still firm should there still be any resistance.
---
He tilted his head back and arched painfully. The sword went through whatever it was he had for meat within that skull. It hurt, no doubt about that, and it showed in the way his teeth clenched shut around the blade.
Blood seeped through his eyeteeth and spilled from what substituted as tear ducts. The Corinthian tried to wrench his hand free; to grab the sword and pull it out, but the wolfman held him down right and proper. Eventually his struggling subsided, flared up again, then he settled flat against the floor. Not quite dead but certainly not living.
---
Elle was not the squeamish sort by any means. But ocular damage was something that made her uneasy to say the least. She had hoped to never personally and consciously do harm to another person's eyes only for the selfish reason of having to witness it and remember her own. A bit late for that now. The katana through flesh and bone cracked and made wet noises that were not very pleasant.
"Can I take it out now, you think?" Elle kept her voice low, hoping it wouldn't shake.
---
John waited. A pregnant pause. The blue bestial eyes remained on the still shape of the Corinthian. To test... the clawed paw released his head.
---
He remained still. His head would have rolled to one side were it not for the katana that held it in place. The mouth continued to bleed but what was within began to slither out from the other one, having unwrapped itself from around the nightmare's mind. Part of the thing had almost been bisected.
---
"John, you're killing that. I've done my part." Elle could hardly keep herself from yanking the Hanzo sword from the nightmare's skull. She couldn't do it fast enough. "I am going to clean this fucker like nothing is funny. If those teeth marks are actual scratches Cori owes me his ass." Her default front of bitch helped her to keep from vomiting.
"Son of a bitch," she couldn't help but stare now.
---
John curled his lip and brought his paw down to smash the thing. He wasn't disgusted at all; he appeared more than happy to do away with the wretched little beast. It squealed and thrashed, but John pressed, a tube of red jelly innards squeezing out from the compressed end. It was dead.
John glanced at his paw for a moment, as if considering boiling the thing, but he stood up, gripping his wounded shoulder as the lupine features receded.
"He should be alright now, the little fucker."
---
'Thhpt' his blood made a clean arc against the wall, perfect trajectory. Once released his head rolled aside, eyes open but his teeth closed. The little maggot slimed across his cheek, dragging its rear half on a thread until Constantine took it upon himself to finish the job. The Corinthian didn't move, clinically dead in any case.
---
Elle sat down on the couch heavily and grabbed a towel. "Kinky foreplay," she muttered and diligently worked to clean away the blood for now. She stared at the limp body of Cori. "When's he gonna wake up?"
Upon finishing her cleaning, she sought to find the sheath. "He'll have hell to pay for thinking he can play with my sword."
---
"Whenever," replied Constantine, free of the toothy lisp. The shape shifting had not completely healed him; a full shift would have done the job, what were a few wounds compared to this? "Bloody mess we made, eh?"
Double meaning there. John took it upon himself to take the Corinthian's temporarily lifeless body by its shoulders and pull him in the direction of the couch. Cleaning would come after.
He'd be keeping the slug. Fucking thing.
Rating; PG-13 (language, violence)
Characters; John Constantine (
silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare), Elle Driver (venomouselle)Summary; answering the challenge of a beast, incited to riot by this, and Elle arrives to lend a hand
Log;
A challenge huh? Did Constantine remember he was a shit fighter? His lupine pelt was still fairly new, where as this killer was two millennia old and the creature within... well, that was a different story. The nightmare backed away from the magus, body language signifying a predator ready to sink its teeth and claws into the other's hide.
"What you gonna do, old man," he purred, taunting.
---
"Hostile removaarrrrl..."
Constantine stood up, shifting into what he decided would be the most effective combination between both selves, crafting himself into a sort of werewolf. The white fur had curled around what had shown, which the slightly altered shape had been mostly concealed by the trench coat. His head was mostly lupine, complete with the large teeth, snout and ears. Sharp claws had poked out from under the nail beds.
"Alrright fuckerrr, last chance."
---
The white horror beckoned at the changed man, unfazed by the fur and fangs. One could even say it sparked his adrenaline rush, so foreign and still so familiar. A quick flick of his wrist removed the knife from his pocket, exposing the sharp blade. One little weapon against the magician's bio arsenal.
"Come take out the trash," he urged Constantine, teeth eyes smiling viciously behind his glasses.
---
"Gladly," Constantine growled, charging Cori with a clawed hand pulled back, ready to tear at his face. Fuck any damage he'd cause. Cori'd heal.
---
The magus was large and armed to the claw, but the Corinthian was quick like the shadows. He ducked under the oncoming paw and threw his shoulder into the wolfman's waist. The blade swung around in a wide curve, eager to find a snug space between John's ribs.
---
Oh yes, he was shite at fighting, but something snapped inside of him. He took a full brunt of the blow, letting out an angered grunt, but a clawed hand caught the oncoming blade arm. The grip was firm and hard, the claws digging in.
---
Strong enough to prevent the tip from pushing through his thick fur, but he was just as equally matched. The Corinthian held his own despite the blood welling beneath those claws and the bone that wanted to fracture from Constantine's pull. He couldn't help but smile and pull his shades away, revealing eyeteeth that were just that and nothing more. He tossed the glasses aside then reversed his grip on the blade, twisting its edge towards the wolf's wrist.
---
Constantine first tried to avert the gaze, then... it didn't do anything. One accidental glance that could have spelled the end and nothing.
Good.
The power struggle continued, but Constantine brought his free claw over, ready to tear off the nightmare's head. He found himself brimming over with a mad electric strength. Not sure whether to accept that wolves were naturally stronger than humans or that Hircine gave him a few points for entertainment, but whatever, it worked in his favor.
---
Little did the possessed nightmare know this wasn't natural. He was unaware of the power a single look contained, too wrapped up in a lust for blood and meat. All three mouths grit briefly, the wolfman was tougher than he appeared. With his hand still caught the Corinthian used his smaller size to his advantage. He set one foot on the beast's thigh and leapt upward again to strike Constantine's jaw with his knee. If only the damned thing would let go.
---
That did it. Constantine roared, stumbling back. He shook his massive shaggy head, stunned, lips curled back and teeth bared.
---
Unfortunately he didn't land with the grace of a feline, not having all his faculties in order, but the nightmare recovered by rolling into a low crouch. Teeth bared, the beast was angry with him, how touching. His tongues licked at the smooth white and his blade gestured for Constantine to come again, as blood trickled down and off his elbow.
---
John was indeed very angry at this point, his mouth hung in an open growl while his eyes reflected a brutal melding of both the beast's primal anger and the Englishman's own. He did not lunge, however, his ears flattened subconsciously as a gesture of threat and possibly on the defense.
---
Not moving? Perfect. He lunged forward first but stopped short to throw the balisong at the wolfman, targeting the shoulder for a distraction. There were bigger knives about, the Corinthian remembered, and he reached for the Hanzo katana hidden under the couch, something far bigger than teeth and claws alone. He happened to know how to use it too.
---
Another roar. Despite his faster reflexes, the knife still caught in the arm meant to swipe it away. Once that was torn out, red staining the blade and coat, he whirled towards the Corinthian, finding him with the very sword he had been bluffing and threatening with.
Shit.
Too late when he was finished with the balisong. Already Cori was ready and he'd be fucking stupid to lunge.
---
"Not such hot shit now," growled the nightmare, unsheathing the blade and tossing the scabbard aside. He took the hilt in both hands then charged at Constantine, eager to cut off a claw or two.
---
Elle frowned deeply. Some little shit smeared gum on the elevator buttons. The stairs sounded appealing after all. Skipping steps she thought about the only Hattori Hanzo sword in her possession. She couldn't get to the door soon enough to her liking.
Not being one to knock she tried the handle.
"Oh yeah, cute boys. NOW you lock your doors." Lifting her fist to knock, she paused ever pore on her skin prickling at the very faint distinct sound of beautiful tempered steel being pulled from its encasement. "Fucking cocksucker....Open up!"
---
John's teeth were bared this time, but it was hardly a fierce look. Instead, he threw himself to the side, bounding in the confines of the room on all fours while the nightmare pursued him. He could only imagine how fucking stupid this whole scene looked. At least until he heard the angry female voice at the door. He could only guess who that was. And well, what a time for the damn door to be locked.
Constantine made a mad dash for the door, those ridiculous claws of his making the task of undoing the locks all the more complicated.
---
Fucking laugh and a half! And the Corinthian certainly laughed it up but it was hardly comical, his mind far too gone and out there to even be considered witty. He took a slash at the animagus, the blade so precise it cut through the hairs that tossed upward from John's escape. Thought he could make it to the door? Seriously.
"Fuck if you think this'll be easy," growled the nightmare. He took a swing downward, aiming for the man's skull though taking a few locks out with it would probably be to their benefit.
---
Gritting her teeth furiously, Elle kicked at the door repeatedly. She had to wear her nice boots heeled boots today. Oh yeah. Had to try and kind of look pretty, she thought more than pissed now. Kicking wasn't working. She grabbed the nearest garbage can by the elevator and threw it against the door. The wood splintered but didn't break.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"
The shouting within did nothing to keep her calm. "What the shit are you doing in there? It's not a toy!" Again she heaved the garbage can against the door, at last it pressed through and spilled into the apartment.
---
No lock. No dog. Constantine barely got out of the way in time, yelping as the sword took a good bit of his shoulder instead of impaling him through the skull. He was rolling this time, back to the running around the room game as soon as he got back on his feet again. At the very least, John noticed, glancing briefly at the door before launching himself away from another swing of the sword, the visitor, no doubt Elle, sounded pretty damn determined to get in.
To his benefit. His new trench coat was already blotted with red from the two wounds. Where did he throw that damn balisong?
---
"Fuck," hissed the Corinthian, missing his mark only to have the door bust open in his face. The sword thrust through the doorway first, not the safest way to greet a California Mountain Snake. His teeth eyes were unmasked too, but the nightmare didn't have any power to speak of regarding The Look anymore. They were simply mouths, snarling mouths.
Elle. Elle in front of him. John behind him. And that balisong tossed somewhere on the floor. He still had the bigger weapon.
---
Elle Driver had seen enough of the City to know that crazy shit happened. This was more than a little bit of a mind bend. She narrowly ducked to avoid being pierced by her own sword. The blood on the religiously polished blade told her that they had been playing awhile now. She wasn't sure which sight riled her more--Wolfman, Denture Vision or someone else using her sword. Within the assassin's mind, the Corinthian may as well have been screwing her boyfriend right in front of her.
"What the fuck is going on here?!"
---
No time to answer. The Corinthian's back was turned and Constantine lunged instead, one hundred and sixty pounds of pseudo werewolf flung at the nightmare without a roar or growl.
---
"Fuck off," he snarled and readied to stick Elle with her own sword. John was too quick for him to notice otherwise. Before he could even raise the blade the magus was on him, toppling the nightmare to the floor as the katana slid from his fingertips.
---
Seeing her chance to reclaim her weapon. "Come to momma." Elle slid across the floor, wrapping her fingers around the smooth handle. Once the two were reunited, she pressed her thin-heeled boot to the back of the trench coat wearing Wolf Man. "Johnny I presume?" The tip of the Hanzo sword sat poised against the Corinthian's throat. "I heard he was pissy, not psychotic."
---
"Rrrrighhtr." John held the nightmare to the floor, pinned for now unless he tried something. At the very least he was significantly stronger in this state, but not overwhelmingly so. "Bitrr eachrr."
---
"Nnrgh," the Corinthian struggled against the wolf magus. Speed meant little when the man had his weight on top of him. Then there was that Hanzo sword, already stained red. Now its tip was at his throat.
All three mouths hissed.
"Fucking bitch, get the fuck off me. I'll rip your damn eyes out," growled the nightmare, relentless in his struggle to free a hand even if it meant getting it broken or having his neck staked by steel.
---
"Cori, I love your fag ass but you've been a bad, bad boy," the California Mountain Snake replied. She pressed the blade tip against the pale skin of the nightmare's neck. "And I think boys like that need to be punished even if they are fucking out of their mind." The three snapping sets of jaws were unsettling--confusing to say the least.
"I'm not going to shank you before you try to explain your sorry ass." A dark bead of blood rolled from the small break in the skin.
---
"Canrr dorr anythingrr, canr yurrr?" A clawed paw grasped the nightmare's head. Tempted he was to impale it through the sword. Might clear up whatever he had.
---
"Go fuck yourself, bitch," the Corinthian snapped at Elle despite the tip drawing blood from him. He struggled regardless, making the wound even worse. "Kill me, dare you to try," he issued the challenge to the both of them. By now the commotion must have drawn some attention from the building, but the threat of slugs and the general nature of the city was enough to keep them from interfering.
"Use your magic, piece of shit," the white horror laughed, neck strained from the grasp of John's clawed hand.
---
If she didn't think that there was something amiss with the Corinthian, Elle certainly did now. It's suicide to writhe and taunt with a sword at your neck, no matter who you were.
"I don't try, Cori. I do."
The Hanzo was in continual motion by Elle's true desire to harm the nightmare or by its own driven need to bathe itself in blood it sunk deeper into flesh. Elle herself blinked in shock. This was turning out to be a bad trip rather than a simple trip to pick up a possession of hers. "Shit."
---
"Therrrr hearddrrr," John snarled. The slugs went in there, didn't there? Headache and all, fucked up mind. There was no other place to stick a mad parasite other than the brain and sticking an immortal through the head certainly wasn't going to be the end of him. "Thrrrrughrr therr teetherrr." He'd never get used to talking through large, sharp teeth.
---
"Don't unmake me, you don't have the power to unmake me," snarled the nightmare. Well that very well may have been true but Cori did take a bullet to the head once and lived to tell the tale. "Back off, fucking back off." His gaze had turned to Elle, though he doubt there was any sympathy to which he could appeal.
---
The Corinthian looked like he was strange enough to endure a sword pierce through the head. The pointy object in the eye socket image at John's words did make her cringe inside. But, what's a swordy in the head between friends?
Elle carefully lifted the blood smeared sword tip to Cori's left eye socket. "Say 'Ah'." Holding her breath, she shoved it horizontally between teeth. The gnashing noise made her sick to her stomach.
---
John did not flinch nor squeeze his eyes shut; the macabre was home to him. He watched the sword slide through, hopefully piercing whatever it was and taking care of it for good. Still, he kept his grip on Cori, careful to avoid the blade protruding on the other side, but still firm should there still be any resistance.
---
He tilted his head back and arched painfully. The sword went through whatever it was he had for meat within that skull. It hurt, no doubt about that, and it showed in the way his teeth clenched shut around the blade.
Blood seeped through his eyeteeth and spilled from what substituted as tear ducts. The Corinthian tried to wrench his hand free; to grab the sword and pull it out, but the wolfman held him down right and proper. Eventually his struggling subsided, flared up again, then he settled flat against the floor. Not quite dead but certainly not living.
---
Elle was not the squeamish sort by any means. But ocular damage was something that made her uneasy to say the least. She had hoped to never personally and consciously do harm to another person's eyes only for the selfish reason of having to witness it and remember her own. A bit late for that now. The katana through flesh and bone cracked and made wet noises that were not very pleasant.
"Can I take it out now, you think?" Elle kept her voice low, hoping it wouldn't shake.
---
John waited. A pregnant pause. The blue bestial eyes remained on the still shape of the Corinthian. To test... the clawed paw released his head.
---
He remained still. His head would have rolled to one side were it not for the katana that held it in place. The mouth continued to bleed but what was within began to slither out from the other one, having unwrapped itself from around the nightmare's mind. Part of the thing had almost been bisected.
---
"John, you're killing that. I've done my part." Elle could hardly keep herself from yanking the Hanzo sword from the nightmare's skull. She couldn't do it fast enough. "I am going to clean this fucker like nothing is funny. If those teeth marks are actual scratches Cori owes me his ass." Her default front of bitch helped her to keep from vomiting.
"Son of a bitch," she couldn't help but stare now.
---
John curled his lip and brought his paw down to smash the thing. He wasn't disgusted at all; he appeared more than happy to do away with the wretched little beast. It squealed and thrashed, but John pressed, a tube of red jelly innards squeezing out from the compressed end. It was dead.
John glanced at his paw for a moment, as if considering boiling the thing, but he stood up, gripping his wounded shoulder as the lupine features receded.
"He should be alright now, the little fucker."
---
'Thhpt' his blood made a clean arc against the wall, perfect trajectory. Once released his head rolled aside, eyes open but his teeth closed. The little maggot slimed across his cheek, dragging its rear half on a thread until Constantine took it upon himself to finish the job. The Corinthian didn't move, clinically dead in any case.
---
Elle sat down on the couch heavily and grabbed a towel. "Kinky foreplay," she muttered and diligently worked to clean away the blood for now. She stared at the limp body of Cori. "When's he gonna wake up?"
Upon finishing her cleaning, she sought to find the sheath. "He'll have hell to pay for thinking he can play with my sword."
---
"Whenever," replied Constantine, free of the toothy lisp. The shape shifting had not completely healed him; a full shift would have done the job, what were a few wounds compared to this? "Bloody mess we made, eh?"
Double meaning there. John took it upon himself to take the Corinthian's temporarily lifeless body by its shoulders and pull him in the direction of the couch. Cleaning would come after.
He'd be keeping the slug. Fucking thing.