ιѕαвєℓα (rivaini) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-03-23 21:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, the umbrella academy: diego hargreeves, ₴ inactive: isabela |
WHO: Diego & Isabela
WHAT: COUPLE BEHEADING TIME
WHERE: Out in the woods
WHEN: Tuesday, sometime, as shit is hitting the fan
WARNINGS: Nah, just gore and like, blood from all parties involved
STATUS: Complete
“They’re called Vultures. What the actual fuck,” Diego grumbled, a sure sign of, well, any number of things. It could have been a sign of reluctance to do something. It could have been a sign of something irritating him. It could have been waking up too early, or too late. Mostly, however, Diego’s grumbling came when he felt too many emotions and didn’t want to deal with any of them. Here was a terrible secret: Diego would do just about anything for the people he cared about. So of course Serefin losing his shit about the crazy bird monsters (people? Hybrid? Diego wasn’t entirely sure) was going to have Diego responding ten fold. Serefin was scared of these things and had no magic to defend himself? Fine, Diego was going to go out and kill all of them. He had a shit ton of knives, his ability to curve whatever had projection, the knowledge that Serefin had given him about the Vultures (which was mostly YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO ACT, jokes on him Diego only needed one) and even more stubbornness than he had knives. Plus, his secret weapon Isabela. Which, on the one hand, she was the biggest badass he knew, so that made it all easier. On the other hand, caring about people, loving them, put him even more on edge when faced with their potential peril. On the third hand, Isabela would have literally murdered him if he had attempted to go on his own, so the point would have been moot. So, here they were, in the forest. Diego had a literal handful of knives, looking very much like whoever Molly said Wolverine was. “Of course he’s from a world where they do some magic bullshit experimentation, go fucking figure. Couldn’t just be from some happy land. Had to have weird gods and eyes and blood and fucking Eldritch monster shit. Fuck’s sake.” Literally would have murdered him if he attempted to hunt down human-bird things on his own, yes, that was a veritable fact - but Isabela had been with Diego for awhile now and knew how he operated. He also knew how she operated - which was why teaming up for this excursion seemed to be the best idea all around. And she was actually a bit excited about it, even if Serefin was rightfully losing his shit or something - the Deepstalkers prior to this, from the dregs of her homeworld, had been a fun little warm-up exercise. Now they were on to something a bit more messy. “Is anyone from some happy land?” she asked with a soft laugh, her tread silent and careful - she knew how to sneak around, this rogue, and she’d learned how to well enough in the forest with its pine needle floors and the tree roots that twisted around and wove along the ground, shifting whenever the woods felt the need to do so. “We’re all from rotten places, it seems. Even with all the nonsense Vallo is like a nice break.” The world wasn’t ending, it was just plagued with gross things on occasion. “Alright, so do they come in pairs or what? And how do we best kill them again?” She had plenty of daggers too, her beauties sheathed and ready, thirsty for blood. With his non-knifed hand Diego flipped, surprise surprise, a dagger. “Serefin said they’re drawn to magic, and there’s usually more than one around, because they talk to each other. Speedy, sneaky, and tough motherfuckers, lot of magic, just gotta chop off their heads. Same as anything.” And that’s what Diego chose to believe, that it would be as simple as that. Forget that Serefin, who used to have a god in his head, and his steely eyed friend had looked ashen. In Diego’s mind, cut off the head of anything and it died, simple as that. Except for a hydra. But one thing at a time. “Just feel badly,” Diego grumbled again, because this was bordering on emotional talk. But if you couldn’t share these sorts of things with your significant other while about to behead some monsters, who could you share it with? “His brother is in charge of them, and is one? But more than that, like, a fucking intense one. All the more reason I don’t want him dealing with this shit.” There were a select number of people that Diego would leap into danger for, his idiot mentee of course made the cut. “I don’t have any monsters from my world,” he pointed out, eyes narrowing with a flint of mirth even in the circumstances. “Just regular assassins. But oh no, you people with your weird ass monsters, getting my ass up to go kill some shit.” Yes, he needed so much convincing. “I suppose it depends on how you define monster as well,” Isabela replied (his adoptive father was a shitty one at that but also an alien or something?), taking a few quicker steps (Diego’s legs were longer than hers) and catching up to reach over and grab his bum - a comforting squeeze, in his time of need and also because she wouldn’t dismiss any opportunity to grab her beloved’s ass. It was the best ass in this world, if you asked her. “And I know you feel bad, love. That’s what makes you human - and a good friend. No, don’t argue with me about that either.” That was said with mirth, corners of her mouth tilting upward because she knew. “It’s just that sometimes people have to deal with their own shit too - for some weird closure or something too, I don’t know. So they can move on and keep living their best life here.” A support system was important during all that, however, which was where Diego came in. And Isabela too - she liked Serefin just fine, he hadn’t really asked for any of this and she understood how important he was to her lover even if Diego grumbled about it all the time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something - a blip of a shadowy figure, and heard a rustling in the trees. Could have been the breeze, could have been something else - but with it came this horrible stench and was it just her, or did she also smell the tang of blood in the air? Copper and iron? Immediately, she retrieved her dueling daggers - the Backstabber and the Heartbreaker. “Ooh, think we’ve got some company.” Diego pulled a face, all teeth and curled lip as if to physically demonstrate just what he thought about all of it. Isabela was right, he supposed. She tended to be. And sometimes it was easier to have someone who knew you so well speak the truths that were hard to hear or that you didn’t even know. “Well, don’t go telling anybody, huh? Going to ruin my reputation,” he said, with a sneer. That was then followed by a wink because Diego’s genuine reactions came after he put on a show. And by now, in their apartment when it was just them? He didn’t even need the show, which, shit, was a sort of surprise that a year ago, he couldn’t have imagined. Right, that was enough emotion for the rest of the year, it was time for beheading. He turned his head at the sound of--not shuffling, but more the sound of wind moving too quickly in just one area and Diego was literally picked up and slammed into a nearby tree. A Vulture was on him still, claws hooked into and through the leather harness Diego wore--and whatever Diego had been imagining was so much worse in real life. It wasn’t a bird, it wasn’t a human, it wasn’t a beast, it truly was an amalgamation of those, putrid body in fabric scraps with limbs contorted in ways that shouldn’t have been able to move, Diego couldn’t get a good look at how, exactly because the damn thing was fast and because it almost hurt to look at it, automatically he wanted to recoil but had nowhere to go. Its mouth opened, revealing blackened teeth sharper than any knife Diego carried and those teeth went for Diego’s neck. He reacted out of instinct more than thought, everything was so fast and furious, and he went for the neck too, his hand of knives up and through the soft spot under the creature’s chin as far as they would go. He had to kick the body literally off of him, groaned and clenched his teeth against those razor claws releasing only through force. Most of the leather had taken the brunt of that attack, but Diego could feel a slick of blood through his black shirt. Everyone ragged on him for the black, but damn it, there was a reason! “Christ on a cracker, what the actual fuck.” They really were fast, these Maker-forsaken things - and they moved in packs. Not just one, but several, and when they attacked it was like being hit with a log splitter - and the log was Isabela’s midsection, a hit that knocked the wind out of her. She went skittering across the ground, heels digging in and dirt kicked up but was too wiggly and squirmy to really stay down - she ended up leaping to her feet and backward, blades drawn even as wounds throbbed and bruises began to blossom beneath honeyed skin. Wasn’t going to deter her, however. She had her battle gear on too - and she wanted to say she faced worse even in Kirkwall, even in the Fade where they went searching. Demons and skeletons and corrupt mages long gone - they were a little bit like these things here, void of all sense and reason. “Andraste’s tits,” she growled, and literally faded from view a moment later - rocks shifted beneath their feet, as if the earth itself was being manipulated by magic, and when she reappeared again she was quick enough to get behind one of the vultures. Whom she promptly stabbed in the back of the neck, blade going entirely through. Hopefully that was enough to sever connections to its mushy corrupted brain, and when she pulled the dagger back it was dripping with blood. “These things are ridiculous - you don’t need to answer if you’re alright, just please don’t die while we take out the rest of them.” They may have earthquakes (and fire, apparently? She smelled something burning) and wicked speed - but Bela had sharp objects and looked fantastic wielding both them and tricky rogue skills; plus, she didn’t even need trousers for any of that. So there. “Not dead,” Diego called out around where he’d heard Bela’s voice--she, too, was much faster than he was and could literally disappear in plain sight. It was just as likely that she wasn’t where he thought, but he couldn’t help but look for her. It wasn’t a matter of confidence in her skills, it was that there was someone to look out for, and someone to look out for him. The second he’d stormed out of the Umbrella Academy was the second he gave up on being a part of a team and swore he only needed himself. That part clearly didn’t last, which was another surprise over the past year. He barely had time to dodge a creature dropping out of the sky with the speed of a goddamn missile. The dodge was more because it arched up at an impossible angle rather than any grace on his part, and Diego’s miss was moot anyway considering he rolled into a craggy rock gathering that he swore had not been there before, motherfuckers. Harsh, uneven slices started at his cheek and went down his neck, across his collarbone. Pissed as he was, Diego pulled out one of the daggers Serefin had given him (literally with the comment “these do a lot of things but I don’t know what, good luck!”) and whipped it up in the air. The Vultures were fast, yes, however Diego knew how to throw a knife. It too arched at an impossible angle, like the Vulture had a homing signal. The knife met its mark, because Diego never missed, but even though it landed straight between where he assumed the Vulture’s shoulder blades were, it didn’t so much as falter. Maybe it hadn’t hit skin and bone?? Diego had another knife in his fingers, wrist cocked back to throw it when-- The Vulture exploded in the air. It was simultaneously the coolest thing and the grossest thing ever. Huh. Diego didn’t have time to consider much before the roar and heat of a tree burst engulfed in flame pulled his attention. It happened so fast and the light from it was so blindingly bright that he missed the Vulture landing behind him. What he didn’t miss were the razor claws sinking into his back and twisting. He spat out a curse, and reached around to stab, blindly, over and over until they both fell face first in the ground. It wasn’t an easy fight - and while Isabela knew she had faced worse, that was admittedly years ago and when the Inquisition happened, when Corypenis threatened to make the world his, her involvement was generally limited to going on raids for them all in certain sects of Thedas. She wasn’t out there stabbing Maker knew what, not like this - a part of her wanted to retire from that life anyway (it was what had gotten Hawke killed, and if she lost Diego in a fight like this she would bloody well murder him - no, that didn’t make any sense, shut up) but here they were. Not like she could let Diego do this for Serefin on his own, anyway. “Balls - she ground out in frustration, having seen him go down - she was there as quick as she could manage, dodging rock formations that had appeared out of nowhere and pinning the vulture to the ground with her boot (she was practically tapdancing on its back) while it ate dirt and then jamming another blade into the fleshy parts at the back of its skull, beneath where - its ears were? Probably ears. It didn’t last, was the point. Literally stabbed in the back. Diego had already slashed at it but she wanted to add another killing blow for good measure. Whenever these horrorshows actually died it was about as disgusting as seeing them alive and also smelling of blood and corpse rot - she began to feel even worse for Serefin, if he had to deal with these back home. She was injured too, though not as badly as her lover-in-black; ignoring the pain that felt like knotted muscles and electric shocks, she rummaged at her belt for one of the healing potions she’d gotten from Glorious Purveyors - the herbs that actually did the healing grew at Skyhold, and while it wouldn’t heal him completely it would at least get him to the point where she could drag his bum to an actual medical facility. “Drink this,” she insisted, biting the top off and holding out the heart-shaped bottle, glowing neon lime. Breathing hurt, Diego thought. Blinking hurt. His ribs felt as if they’d been pried off of his spine and splintered. His back was soaked in blood--his front was pretty wet too, come to think of it. Diego took a chug of the healing potion, not even pulling a face at the obnoxiously bright color because it took the fuzz out of his head that tried to pull him into unconsciousness and made him feel like he could kick the body next to him. Then he spit out a stream of curse words at the pain that shot throughout his body. Great idea. “You okay?” he asked Bela, blinking hard and quickly to clear his vision and give her a once-over. Satisfied enough for now, Diego pushed himself up into a standing-ish position, cursing everyone and everything in the most creative and colorful of ways that left no stone unturned. He kissed the side of her head and took a breath. “Alright, let’s go, I’m good.” Yes. Totally. “I’m okay. I love you, you complete tit,” Isabla replied, immediately sliding an arm around Diego’s waist to help steady him as he stood up - even the follicles of her hair hurt, and she too was bleeding, but a this moment she felt as if she had more blood in her body than Diego did so she’d take that as a win. “And you’re not entirely good, I don’t think - but you looked extremely sexy throwing knives at vulture things, so I ought to ravish you once you’re fully alive again.” This was said cheerfully, because she was worried and didn’t really want that to show - and, you know, what. Fuck it, just fuck it. She didn’t need to hide anything, not from him (though the part about him looking sexy in battle and her being switched on because of it was definitely true). “Just hang onto me, we’ll hit the waypoint and get you to the clinic, alright?” Not like she wanted to literally drag him but she was definitely using up the last of her reserves (before no doubt faceplanting onto the nearest soft surface) to schlep toward the village in the distance - there was a waypoint there, it led to the city. They’d get to that clinic even if she had to tear the whole world down and rearrange it so the clinic came to them instead. “Love you,” Diego echoed. And he did. They were partners in all of the important ways (physical ways included, Isabela decapitated monsters without pants, come on now). They shared the same sense of justice and of doing what was right for the people you cared about no matter what it was, a fierce devotion to their loved ones, lost and loved and chose to love again. He was stupidly lucky to have Bela lockstep with him--or, lockstep when it counted and then later she could tell him what a moron he was. He wrapped an arm around Isabela’s shoulders, trying not to lean too heavily on her, while at the same time trying not to fall on the ground and eat a mouthful of dirt. Right, okay, the clinic. That was the goal. Just then, a terrible thought hit Diego, ice knives to his brain, a wave of horror and repulsion so fierce, it threatened to buckle his knees. “But that means...I’ll have to see Dan.” |