@liferewrote said: “Sheild – sarv protects Ruv from danger !”
Ruv knows how to fight, of course, and sometimes he likes to, although how much of that is genuine enjoyment anymore is hard to say. Some days, it feels good to smash a face into the pavement, especially if its owner is the kind of shitbag who deserves it. And other times, it feels more like an obligation, a chore, a habit. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is aware that it doesn’t feel good this time around, that he is meeting it with a certain heaviness in his arms, a want to get it over with. But he pushes that exhaustion at fighting, always fighting down because he has to.
Unfortunately, when you leave a blood trail as long as he has, it eventually snakes back up to you. Miles away from the motherland, but that hardly matters when someone is determined enough to track you down. He had killed some of their old gang members back when he was doing that kind of thing for justice, knowing that they had law enforcement in their back pocket and that if he didn’t do something, then nobody would. But they never forgot him, and they certainly never forgave him, and while he’s gotten tougher since then, so have they.
He pulls himself back to his knees at least, using the dumpster beside him for leverage, and spits some of his blood on the ground. At least, they had the courtesy to come after him out here and didn’t follow him all the way back to the church. It’s him that they want, so even if he dies here, at least, if nothing else, he will have kept them away from—
When he looks up, he sees their familiar silhouette—well, not so familiar, wings outstretched behind them, horns curling towards the sky. What is she doing here? Why did she follow him? Heart pounding in his chest, he doubles his efforts to stand up and finally manages to drag himself back to his feet, still leaning against the dumpster for support.
He reaches out and grabs them by the elbow. “Sarv,” he says, speaking through heavy pants that might be exhaustion just as well as they might be fear. “Get down.” It’s his fight. It’s his fight.
He had wondered why the other gangsters stopped encroaching on him, why they even let him get as far as onto his knees, and now he knows. All of them had their eyes trained on Sarvente, stunned at this new development, but now it seems as though they have recovered, and they start advancing on the pair again.
He knows that she can handle herself, that she is in possession of power beyond his comprehension, but he swore that he would always protect them, and it’s his fight. “Please,” he hisses through red-stained teeth, tightening his grip on their arm, wanting nothing more than to throw her to the ground behind the dumpster while he finishes this, whatever the result ends up being. “Sarv. Please.”
Something felt wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong; so much so it had taken Sarvente out of her work for the church and leave, fast, giving no time to give explanation to the other nuns or clergy of where she was going or why. Maybe it is his fight, but she refuses to let him resign himself to a fight that, just maybe, he might finally lose. They’d never change form in the church-- but out here? And to protect him? Fuck the church.
Sarvente’s wings are massive, blocking the gangsters’ sights of Ruv to allow him to recover, casting shadows over them all. Her horns easily make her taller than she already is tall and spiraling upwards, and combined with her hovering off the ground, legs and arms covered in a pitch black liquid that drips onto the ground beneath them-- it’s horrifying. Usually such a positive face is twisted into a cold, dead stare; they’re not making it out alive, if Sarvente has anything to say about it.
They glance back at Ruv as he grabs their arm. She knows he doesn’t want her here; doesn’t want her involved. But the choice to stay with him is hers, and hers alone; regardless of what they get involved in. Sarvente smiles reassuringly at him, flashing rows and rows of shark-like teeth.
“Rest, Ruv. These men deserve to rot,” her voice is distorted; it’s clear now just how angry she is, radiating off of her. And as one of them lunges for Sarv, he’s stopped immediately by her free hand around his throat. He struggles; tries to fight her off, kicking and yelling, but none of it phases her at all. That smile she gave Ruv turns dark; twisted.
The black liquid crawls up her arm, pouring into his body as she squeezes hard enough to break a bone. It fills his veins, turning them all pitch black and draining all the color from his skin and body. Another sickening, loud crack of another bone breaking, and he can’t even scream as the black starts dripping from his mouth. It all retreats back into Sarvente’s arm, and on the third crack-- the gangster’s head pops clean off, dropping on the ground, and Sarvente throws the decapitated body at the others.
And to top it all off-- Sarv laughs.
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