give me one. ONE LAST LAUGH

You’re home.

You sink your arms slightly onto the floor to push yourself upwars. Your legs are tangled under the trident and now you’re sitting on it. For a moment you can’t help but notice she’s also having a good time, it almost gives you pause as you retriever your clubs and swing one down onto her head.

You’re facing her while still keeping up the same position from before. Your horns poke at the floor while she struggles to get it back. There’s something so very hilarious about seeing a fuschia thrash and slip on slime like all the royalty’s been taken from her.

“SURE”

You let go of the trident, your palms hit the floor and you manage not to fall. You flip onto your feet again, kicking her on the side of the head while you go through the motions.

You’ve got your eyes set on her, and you know for a fact that you could dodge her next attempt, but you’ve got a much more fun idea. You recaptchalogue your clubs and you let yourself be hit by the side of the trident, and it fucking HURTS. The second hit is not as bad, the third hit and you manage to grab the end of the trident.

You pull it closer to you, strong enough to pull, but not strong enough to break her grip. 

You stab yourself with the trident, three prongs now halfway into your gut. Blood starts to leak out.

When they hit ground you’re able to use them flip the rest of your body onto the direction you were facing using the momentum. Your body looked as if it were made entirely of rubber from how you moved, and would’ve called into question your reality were it not for the bone cracking sounds that came as you flipped onto your feet. 

“honk”

Of course she’d ask for a fight. If there’s anything you know about seadwellers is that they WILL find a reason for confrontation. Something familiar boils in your blood, like rage finding its way back onto a cozy home. This is the rage you’ve dealt with your entire motherfucking life, the rage that pushes you to wake up and fight another night.

You might as well give her what she wants.

You throw your club, not at her but a few feet on the sand behind her. You’d quickly reach to the roof of the door and grab it. Your legs sink and your knees poke your stomach, making you suspend in the air. In one quick swing your feet press against Meenah’s shoulders, kicking her into your hive as you use the momentum to let go of the doorframe and roll onto the sand. 

You pick up your club and another one materializes on your other hand. A wicked grin shows up on your face as you charge towards the seadweller. 

@jckerskind

“any day i get to get high and piss off a seadweller at the same time is a good day”

“For reel? That’s where you get off?”

renegade-royal

“yo imma let you finish, but do you take constructive criticism”

“nO”