sinking + roman

[toboggan]

The collision of skulls caused quite the oomph of a migraine to linger round Leroy’s psyche, notwithstanding the pain was drowned by senses of triumph. His plan, while outlandish and cheap, had been carried out successfully. Wincing, his form rose once more to tower over Roman’s lethargic body, having a look-see over the fluffy dog in means of identifying a target limb. "Since you’re so nice," he began amusingly, ”I won’t take something tha’ useful; how ‘bout your back left one?”. Not waiting for a response, in case the Shiba decided to fight back, his bulky neck lowered to the ground below, slyly sliding the leather pack he had brought along. He eagerly opened it, discarding everything inside, scraps and all, until a blade thudded unto the surface.

The mutt arranged Roman’s leg in a manner that it stuck out like a log. It would be just like chopping firewood. An operation like this was new to him, to this extent that something may go a little awry.

Brandishing the curved blade in his jaws, he’d swing down towards the ground in an attempt to detach the leg from the torso. If anything went wrong, rinse and repeat. The leg was going home with him.

[trojan g.]

At first, he couldn't move, and Roman didn't like that. The second he was on the ground, he wanted to get up, get up and hope that it had been an accident that had caused this to happen, a spur of the moment thing that made it so Leroy thought that Roman had been a possible attacker, but there was the louder voice in his head that said that this had been on purpose, and it was confirmed when he heard the voice of the other, looming closer and louder as he readied his weapon of choice.

Trying to move, it wasn't until the blade began to swing down when he was finally able to wriggle free, though he didn't escape without getting hurt. Though his leg was still attached at this point in time, there was a large gash where Leroy had been trying to get a clean cut. Ears pinned to his head as Roman rolled back over onto his stomach, quickly getting up before he lunged, aiming to tackle Leroy to the ground, a growl leaving his throat as he did so. If it worked, Roman would then aim to grab onto the blade himself, in hopes of getting it away from the other for the time being.

[toboggan]

Now, it was his own breath’s turn to escape him, as the tall mutt was the recipient of a somewhat unexpected tackle. Shit. Things were not looking the best. Rendered anchored to the ground, his traducer made a break for the blade, which was now out of Leroy’s reach. The canine’s height ensured that the attack did not daunt him whatsoever, though now that his enemy possessed the armament he once paraded, Leroy was at a disadvantage here. That’s not to say the cleave he performed was in vain - the Shiba openly bled from the contact point.

Attempting to use his opponent’s wound to his advantage, he’d dive in the direction of Roman’s leg, snarling at his displayed bridgework aimed to chomp down on the limb. If successful, once with a firm grip, he’d yank backwards, as if loosening the hold the build had on its appendage.

If failure ensued the attack instead of achievement, however, all Leroy would get is a mouthful of dirt, and maybe some pebbles if he was lucky.

//mobile + rushed = rip

[trojan g.]

Roman hadn't really expected to be able to get the other on the ground, as he hadn't had to fight in so long, he wasn't sure if he could do it or not. It seemed as though Leroy had practice though, and it was frustrating Roman. Roman, in reality, had been alive for 41 months - a little over 3 years - but by the looks of Leroy he had been alive longer than that but seemed to be fairing better for the most part, even with three legs.

Stepping backwards slightly to shift his weight to try and keep Leroy underneath him, Roman finally took notice of the pain in his leg, so when Leroy suddenly shifted to dive towards the leg, he was slightly distracted, and didn't have time to react, only able to make a small 'oof'ing noise as soon as he was suddenly on his back, having his hurting leg suddenly yanked out from underneath him.

[toboggan]

"Stay put, nosebleed!" angrily nickered Leroy, once more on top in this rhubarb. The hound had spent many years as brute, king over others because of his violence, he didn’t need some flutter bum fighting back. If the scuffle went on any longer, something not good could happen to his foot; best to finish this quickly. Attempting to pin the already-flattened Roman to the ground, he’d lean over to nab the unequipped brand, returning his head so that the tip of his wet nose almost touched the apex of the Shiba’s snout, his amber eyes glaring right into the pooch’s. The gaze did not offer malice, or chaos - its state was almost dolorous. Almost.

This time, the blade had to connect properly, it just fucking had to. His stay with the Ascendants was long over, and he needed to go home. Okay. Aiming for the same location, he tried swinging downwards, this time with more force, as if to ensure results.

[trojan g.]

His ears were ringing, the landing on his back having been less than graceful by far. Roman could hear, slightly, the words that were being thrown his way, but couldn't quite make sense of them, whether that being due to his hitting his head or due to the strange choice of words Leroy had used, Roman would not know, but what he did know was that he was being held down, that he had to get up. So he tried, Roman tried to wiggle free, though to no avail.

He froze when there was a sudden feeling of loss in his leg, a familiar feeling though he couldn't quite place it, it had happened too long ago, and then pain rushed through him and his eyes shut tight and his jaws clamped shut in an attempt not to scream, not to make a noise, to make sure Leroy didn't get more pleasure out of this than he wanted, though to no avail. Noise came from the canine, not screaming, but a noise nonetheless, one of pain and sorrow, and he used his leg - his only back leg once more - to try and kick up towards Leroy's stomach in an attempt to get him off of himself. If it worked, Roman would roll over and try to run off.

[toboggan]

He accepted the kick with triumph, for his goals were accomplished. Stumbling back, Leroy allowed the Shiba to flee. As long as the pooch believed that his name was Otto, and that he came from yonder, his identity was safe. One thing the mutt forgot was to throw in a reference to the Typhoon in there somewhere to throw off Roman even further, though he believed he was safe for now. As long as Leroy kept a low profile regarding his group’s affairs with the Ascendants, nothing would come of this. However, if this was investigated to the point of trouble for Leroy, he’d take full responsibility of it. His clan didn’t demand the hustler to do anything - all of this was on his own whim.

Now, he’d hastily make an exit. He wasn’t getting caught.

//out