ArchivedLogs:Sharks vs Squid

Sharks vs Squid
WARNING: Graphic violence, blood, (maybe?) cannibalism
Dramatis Personae Sebastian, Shane	2013-05-13 (Part of Thunderdome.)
Location Thunderdome
It's a warehouse, or something like it; at least it's spacious, and was probably once industrial; at the moment it's largely just empty. There are tracks in the floor from long-since disused equipment and the construction of walls and high exposed-beam ceilings is sturdy. The center of the room has been excavated, since this place was in actual daily use. In the middle a pit has been gashed out of the concrete; it's not /deep/ and it serves more as a foundation than anything else; around its wide circular perimeter a cage has been erected. Nearly reaching up to ceiling-height, it is constructed of thick sturdy metal bars wrapped in a thinner wire mesh. Surrounding the cage there is a lot of empty space. Some nights, though, when fights are in session, the room is filled; with people, with cameras (though no outsiders' cameras are allowed in), with paper betting slips and folding chairs. The spotlights in the ceiling are bright-bright-bright, the better to illuminate the fighters within the centerpiece cage. The crowd is, as always, stoked. Tonight's fight-night; faces are leering from the other side of those bars - a dull, thunderous roar of approval at the announcer's crackling voice above when he mentions that tonight and only tonight, they're in for a real treat - a full on SEA-FOOD BUFFET. "In /this/ corner, we have -- SHARK ATTACK!" That would be Shane and Sebastian's cue. Shane will probably be happy to see that Sebastian is, indeed, alive; they've kept him locked up inside a small dog cage since his brutal beating - now, forcibly shoved out into the main fighting ring, the two are - briefly - reunited - Sebastian possibly having been better fed than /Shane/ for the past few days, but only by a bit. They apparently wanted to get an idea of what the sharktwins needed - how much food they could feed them before they went all... ferally. Sebastian got to be their guinea pig. However the two spend their first moments in seeing each other since those past few days, it's soon ended about six seconds later with the announcer's next cry: "And in the opposite corner - we have - the ol' Cap himself - DAVY JOOOOOOOOOOOOONES!" This one, it seems, is a crowd favorite. The man who lumbers out on the other side of the twins is - big. About six foot and change - with unusual, /glistening/ brownish-green skin. He's clad in black dress slacks - and nothing else - because nothing else would /fit/ him. Rather than forearms, he has three or four squid-like /tentacles/; each are tremendously thick - easily the diameter of a soda-can. His legs end past the knee as /more/ tentacles; his head - his face - is surrounded by a mane of sucker-affixed appendages that drape down his chest like a beard... his eyes deep, whiteless, pupiless violet orbs. When he breathes, its with a drastic /wheeze/ - when he moves, it's with a wet *SCHLOP, SCHLOP, SCHLOP*. "Ladies and gentlemen... DINNER'S ON!" BZZZZZZ. 'Davy Jones' proceeds to /shriek/, tentacles rousing up... and charge, straight on, for /both/ of them. Shane is probably excited. After thinking Bastian was probably dead for days he is almost certainly excited! He's also perhaps a bit too /ravenous/ to properly register happy; it comes as a powerful shock of /exhilaration/, an adrenaline rush that straightens him from cranky-stumbling into the bright spotlights to standing upright. What he /says/ is: "Jesus fuck, they're serving us Cthulhu for dinner?" Sebastian doesn't answer this quip. PROBABLY he's happy to see Shane, too. His teeth bare; that might be a smile. But he just exchanges a look with his brother. "{Taylor's are bigger,}" he does eventually answer. Shane hisses something through his teeth that might be a laugh. Or it might not be. He's straightening, stepping back, away from his brother. Sebastian's moving away from him, too, to sort of flank the giant octo-man. They don't waste a lot of time after this, though. Their dive in happens in unison, Shane launching himself, claws-out, towards the man's tentacle-legs on one side, in an effort to drive him closer to Bastian closing in, sharp teeth bared to chomp, on the other. The crowd goes /wild/. Holy shit, those sharks are totally going for /broke/ on this guy. Davy Jones just - snarls, this high-pitch /kreening/ sound as Shane hits his left leg and claws /in/ - his flesh is strange, thick and rough-textured, like some sort of leather /hide/ - and he stumbles directly into Sebastian's path, feeling those teeth /lock/ into his leg-flesh, biting deep. Mmm. Yep, he's made of meat - /and/ blood! But no sooner have both twins locked in on him then are those tentacles descending down - raining in a thick, tangled /swarm/ of tentacleflesh - aiming to seize them both, wrap around their throats and arms and try to /drag/ them off his legs, heft them into the air, and SLAM them together like two bundled up boulders - directly in front of him. Break-neck speed. "FFUuuugugghffghl...!" Davy Jones gurgles. In fish-talk, he's probably saying something like 'fuck you, I'm a SQUID'. Neither of the twins let go. They're dragged, alright, but clamped down as hard as they are that pulling is likely to take chunks /with/ them. Sebastian might eat his. Quick-chomp. In answer to the high kreening he has a soft low growl, throaty and feral at the flesh and blood that fills his mouth. His arms might be encircled but his legs are not; his boneless body twists into somewhat alarming contortions to hook clawed feet around and /stab/ his second set of claws into the tentacles holding him. His head twist-jerks, not so much trying to escape as flaring out the razor-edged gills at the sides of his neck, sawing at the thick hide that is wrapped around them. His skirt flutters. The flowers on it kind of dance. Shane hisses as the tentacles close around his very /immaculately/ tied bow-tie. It's covering his gills at his neck, he doesn't have this resort. /His/ feet don't try and work on his restraints but lash out, as he's slammed nearer, towards the tentacles around Bastian as well. It's almost certainly a good thing he has no bones to break in his legs; regardless the contact is met with a harsh-hissing snarl of pain. And a deeper stabbing of claws. Sebastian's snarl sounds more angry than pained, though the sudden clench of his teeth suggests both. His wiry-strong arms are wriggling upwards, pushing upwards, squirming and twisting with all the boneless flexibility he has to try and free his hands. So that they can /slash/ at the tentacles. "Nnrrghrn," Davy Jones proceeds to gurgle. A tentacle is shorn /free/ by Sebastian's chomping teeth, ripping through flesh to spill /blood/, rich and crimson, on the concrete floor; the slashing of razor-sharp gills manages to slit open another tentacle - as the tentacles crawl and restrict, suckers attempting to attach, /hook/ into shark flesh, to try and drag his arms apart, his legs - desperately working to /wrassle/ him into submission - even as that boneless body fights and writhes and /slashes/ at the bondage. Shane's managing much the same; no sooner has Davy Jones batted them together - actually fairly pointlessly, having not realized they're both about as hard as rubber balls - then does he stumble back toward the far wall, /wheezing/ as the two well-dressed sharktwins proceed to /rip/ and /tear/ through his somewhat salty, slimey flesh - attempting to reel his shoulders back and slam them /down/ into the concrete floor. Several times over, now. Just trying to - get them off getthemoffGETTHEMOFF. Continuing to kreen, but now in pain; Shane just managed to claw through a tentacle himself. "RRrrrtgh...!" The crowd is - eating it up. Every instant of it. You can't /make/ shit like this with CGI; they're /screaming/ at the sight of it - some in horror, some in joy. It's like watching a squid fight two sharks. Wait, no, it isn't like that - it /is/ that. Sebastian's teeth snap towards the first tentacle that's been shorn. This time he's /definitely/ eating. A quick snap of bite that snaps off a mouthful and swallows it with an almost decadent moan. He tugs back against the restraint, and his sharp-rough skin is likely not enough to /destroy/ the leathery hide as it would with a similar struggle on human flesh, but it is probably not /pleasant/ all the same. Shane's snarling continues, as he's bashed. He doesn't exactly /fight/ it; at least he isn't so much struggling to free himself as he is twisting around to latch on harder. Wriggle claws out, hook them in, sink in his teeth. If he tears off the tentacle that's slamming him, all the better. Maybe he just wants /dinner/. There's a definite pained intensity to the harsh noises he makes, but he doesn't let go. Sebastian does. Insofar as he is twisting, slashing, /definitely/ fighting this. For him the pain seems to register far less than the massive amounts of blood coming from those sheared and torn tentacles. Each pound into the floor just elicits a whuff of breath, and a redoubled /attack/ on the nearest tentacles, jerking hands free to slash at them until he is caught again, snapping his sharp teeth towards the nearest tasty mouthful of meat to approach him. Davy Jones is /flattening/ the two of them against the floor, blow after blow meant to /pulverize/ them as the sharktwins just - wrestle, twist, bite, /claw/ their way through all that brownish-green flesh. But with every blow to the floor, his swings are getting weaker, his breath harder, more shallow and desperate. And the amount of blood that's starting to pool on the floor... is a lot. By the third blow, his tentacles have lost a lot of their initial strength - by the fourth, they're actually starting to /release/, suckers withdrawing as he presses his shoulders back against the bars of the cage - just trying to get away. Sebastian manages to slice off another tentacle; so does Shane. His arms are - not in a very good state, anymore. He looks more grayish than brown; his eyes have a certain - glazed, passive look to them. The keening he makes now is - weaker, more helpless, more desperate. /Wounded/. The crowd is, predictably, continuing to go nuts over this. The screaming roar is almost loud enough to drown out the sounds of sharks feasting. There's actually a moment here where the twins do not attack. Shane is slumped on the floor, intermittently fluttering his gills, intermittently gasping for breath. Sebastian keeps large dark eyes focused on the octoman and reaches for -- a disembodied hunk of tentacle. He drags himself closer to Shane, dropping the chunk of flesh beside his brother. Shane's hand snaps out. Drags the tentacle over. Sinks teeth into it. He tears into the meat hungrily, blood dripping bright red against his blue skin. For a moment his eyes flick to the wounded keening of the man. There's a moment, then, where his chewing pauses. He looks faintly ill, faintly paler. It's just a moment. In the next moment Sebastian is getting back into a crouch, launching himself straight for the man's thick throat with an aim to sink his teeth in deep. And tear. In that moment of pause, the audience's blood-curdling cries for more seem to dwindle; it's only /now/ that people are realizing - just what the twins are doing. Someone shouts out 'holy fuck'; another shouts 'they're--EATING--oh/FUCK/' -- and the thunderous roar rushes right back in. Now, not just a buzz of excitement - a buzz of panic, of confusion, of fear and exhiliration and /shock/. "Gnkgg--" Davy Jones' head snaps back - one might almost think he's /happy/ for Sebastian's jaws as they sink around his throat. That doesn't mean he doesn't resist - with the last of his strength, he's trying to pull Sebastian off of him, his remaining tentacles - lazily /swarming/ him. But the act is so forceless that it's almost - cradling. Like he's just giving Sebastian a warm hug right before - there it is. RRRRRIP. An arterial spray; another wet, shuddering gurgle. The man trembles, quaking, sliding down the bars, his head crooning back... all the strength left in him rapidly dwindling. /Splashing/ Sebastian with - quite a lot of blood. This time, Sebastian's growl is satisfied. If the octoman seems like he might be cradling him, Sebastian after this seems like he might be hugging /back/, slumping down against the man with his face buried against his neck. His pretty pink monarch butterfly shirt has rapidly become a red monarch butterfly shirt. For one moment he sinks teeth in deeper, tears out a mouthful of flesh -- and then looks up, almost /startled/ in his sudden wide-eyed stare out towards the audience. Like only just noticing them. His tongue flicks out to run through the glistening wet that covers his face. And then he stands, /dragging/ the heavy large body the few short feet to Shane. Dumping it there. He takes a look at the faint-pale-ill look on Shane's face, and for a moment his matches it. But. Again. It's just a moment. "{Eat.}" One short word in Vietnamese, it comes out more as a command. He drops to his knees, ignoring the shouts around them as his teeth sink in to a meaty arm. There's a brief shudder that runs through Shane. But that one curt word moves him again. He falls forward, teeth clamping into some teethmarks already there; his or his twins, it is fairly irrelevant now. Beneath the buzz of excitement, the cage fills with the soft rip-squelch-crunch and low rumbling growls of very hungered eating. For about twelve seconds, the twins are allowed to eat in silence. The audience has reached its peak - once Davy Jones' throat is torn out, that peak begins to drop... and falls right on through the floor. Hardly anyone's making a peep as the twins just sit down... and start /eating/ their opponent. When people do start making sounds - they are pretty much all universally sounds of disgust, mixed with horror. Someone might be vomitting. Someone else might be making comments about fucking /animals/. Actually, there are a lot of comments about that. Some of them are shouting it. Then, the collars come on. ZZZZAP. Both twins. Men with batons are arriving at the gates, clearly intending to guide them both back to their cell. Compliance gets you hit only a few times; anything else will get you brutally /beaten/ and zapped until you'll have to be dragged to your cage. "Fucking /animals/," one of the guards states as he shoves the baton against Sebastian's back. "/MOVE/." Sebastian has a mouthful of torn-off flesh clenched in his teeth as he bares them at the guard, snarling and taking one last chomping bite before the baton prodding against his already /very/-battered form prompts him to move. He grabs a hunk of tentacle on his way. Shane needs less prompting. He is slower, though, stumbling to his feet to drag himself along side his brother. He straightens his very bloody bowtie as he goes.