[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

[killtime]

⬤ Andy @ the CR Meme ⬤
⬤ Permissions Post ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Scythia (now of Enma) & YOU!
What ⬤ The bastard woman drinks and brawls her way through May substories
When ⬤ Throughout the month of May
Where ⬤ A bar, a backlot, and a bloody arena
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!



A | MOON MEDICINE / SUBSTORY #1

[ This might be the most alive she's felt since arriving in hell. Whatever the fuck was in that medicinal mochi — it's like being high on cocaine and bloodlust at the same time. It feeds into that part of her that has always loved a fight. That up-close and personal shit where you can practically smell your opponent's breath. That's what she was raised on, seven thousand years ago on the Eurasian steppe — heir of the warrior-queen, bare and bloody on the battlefield, her mother's axe in her right hand.

No axe now. No battlefield either. Just the dirty alley out behind some dive bar. But that look in her eye is the same now as it was back then, wild and bright as she slams her fist into the unrecognizable pulp that was formerly the face of the yokai who had gotten fresh with her inside. Her knuckles are split open, but she doesn't seem to notice. Tunnel vision, everything else utterly irrelevant while her opponent is still standing — and he is, just barely. Just enough to take another clumsy swing at her, a move so obvious and slow that, in her violent fervor, she barks out a mean laugh, teeth bared. Bracing herself, she lets gravity do most of the work as she catches her victim by the clothes and flings him out of the alley towards street —

Right into anyone unfortunate enough to be passing by. ]

B | VEND ME A DREAM / SUBSTORY #2

[ Normally, on a day like this, Andy would have found some way to drink herself into oblivion by now. But she's spent most of her time in hell hungover, and somewhere between the constant headaches and violent nausea, she figured her newly mortal body was probably begging her for a break from the bottle. But being both idle and sober lends itself too readily towards her tendency to wallow uselessly in her own misery, so when the shirime approaches her with its winking butthole and a request for item A5, well...

Fuck it. It's not as if she has anything better to do.

That's how she winds up in that backlot, leaning up against a porno vending machine with a dwindling cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flips through Juicy Peaches. The look on her face is one of stoic apathy, but either she's bored or the asses within are just that compelling, because she's still turning pages. This page in particular has her head turning slightly one way, then the other as she considers it. Out loud, to nobody in particular: ]

...That's a fucking fish.

[ Given the context, she might mean that literally. Only one way to find out. ]

C | BRUISED & BLOODY / SHUTEN TERRITORY ARENA

[ She'd been beating up people for free in bars this whole time, so it seemed only practical to at least get paid for that shit. The booze and cigarettes don't pay for themselves — and gods forbid that Andy hold a regular nine-to-five. She'd rather have her bones broken. Besides, she makes for a good underdog bet. Compared to some of the monstrous yokai that have stood opposite her in the ring, Andy looks decidedly ordinary. A woman who is neither particularly tall or strong. Nothing to betray the centuries she's spent mastering different ways of using her body to cause others pain. Except maybe that certain look in her eye. Something sharp. Something a little mean.

On one of the nights that she fights, she might find herself facing off against another Lost Soul in her next match. Or maybe afterward, with her left arm hanging loosely from its socket, she might be looking for someone to lend her hand — hopefully someone who isn't too squeamish to shove a shoulder back in. Otherwise, after the fighting is done, she makes a habit of smoking a cigarette right outside the arena, usually more interested in indulging that bad habit than patching herself up. ]

Comments

[pitfight]

[ Nishitani groans, loud, when she presses against the head of his prick-- she'll feel the excitement make him jump, the pain setting him off. Andy releases, though, and moves her grip to the back of his neck. He uses this new support of hers to push her against the nearest wall, letting his cock press between her thighs, his hand blocking it from getting to where they both want most. ] And yet you're dripping, baby. You like a little strength.

[killtime]

[ She makes an inelegant little noise when her back hits the wall, teeth briefly bared at him again when he pins her there. Her legs go around his waist, her thighs tense with the effort. The motion makes it obvious that he’s right - she’s wet enough to feel it when she moves, how it smears between her legs and against his hand, magnifying any small shift.

Still, even like this, there’s an intensity to her. She leans her head back, eyes half-mast and heated as she looks down her nose at him, her voice still carrying that low and biting wryness of hers despite sounding slightly strained: ]

You’ve got your dick and your hand down there. Are you going to at least fuck me with one of them?

[pitfight]

Just one? Can't take both? [ Nishitani leans in to kiss at her neck, to bite and suck until black bruises form under his lips. He pushes himself in closer, withdrawing his hand just to grip her thighs tightly instead, keeping her legs wrapped around him while also keeping her lifted. ]

[ He slides his cock along the slick of her, the wet heat that saturates the air. To tease her, he ruts, never breaches, just teases her cunt, her clit, with the promise of more while denying her the satisfaction. ]

[killtime]

[ The bruises will be a novelty when she notices them in the morning. Fifty-fifty chance whether she'll be annoyed or fascinated. Maybe a little of both. She's never done this without her power to regenerate — and damn, but she sure made a choice with who she'd pop this mortal body's cherry with. There's no doubt she'll be sore and aching tomorrow. Fuck it though — she's hot enough for him not to care. Nothing matters more than the places where their bodies touch.

Her legs tense where they're wrapped around him, the muscles in her lower back tightening as she tries to use the wall behind her as leverage to push back against him. That teasing friction isn't nearly enough, and she can feel the way her body twitches with anticipation every time his cock runs past the opening of her cunt, dragging the wetness of her arousal back against flushed skin. She makes a low, frustrated noise in the back of her throat, one hand tangling back into the hair at the back of his head to tug sharply in retaliation. ]

I'll take whatever the fuck you want to give. Then I'll pay you back twice as hard.