RP:Sansloi meets Ginger

Ginger lunges into the area, bumping her head rather haphazardly. "Owwwie!!!" The ickle pixie sits on the ground and glares at the only other person in the room. "You did that. . .I'ma bite you face!!!" Ginger exits east.

Sansloi is sitting in.. near silence in the darker recesses of the cave; her form hunched over with her head nearly between her knees. The woman mutters to herself, madness appears to have made a home in her cognitive functions. Her pale hands are brought to her face, fingertips stuffed into her mouth then retracted in a seemingly endless dance of nibbling. Glancing up furtively, Sansloi scans the room only for a moment before returning it to the dirt just below her. Sansloi's quite muttering is halted by the lunge of the pixie, her eyes narrowed in both confusion and irritation. "Bite meh face?" Sansloi laughs, albeit it's a hard metallic sounding laugh. "Yer too short teh bite meh face." Pushing herself off the ground, Sansloi actually sticks her tongue out at the small pixie. The game was on.

Ginger uses her giant skelly wings to propel her body at the aforementioned face like a rocket-pirahna. . .should one decide to exist. . .and find sufficient means to function. . .and get launched at a face, but I digress. Ginger totally bit your tongue, yo.

Sansloi squeals rather loudly, and not unlike a pig at the bit to her tongue. Bringing her hands up to her face, Sans tries to wrap her fingers around the small body and yank her off and away from her face. Apparently here, it's not cats who get your tongue, but rabid pixies.

Ginger spits out the tongue in disgust. "Blegh, you's a human-face. . .wiff halitosis, yo." She waits a beat, and continues. "In short, your breff stinks. . ." ANother beat drops. "You can put me down now. I need to go wash out my mouth. That as nasty."

Sansloi curls her upper lip into the region of her nose; her scrambled egg brains lacked the capacity to understand the halitosis comment, but manages to understand that she didn't smell pleasant. Sans narrows her eyes at the pixie and tightens her grip on the small creature. She wanted to squeeze it till its eyes popped out of its little skull.

Ginger let's her eyes pop out. They start on fire. Ginger dropped 2 eyeballs. Ginger said to Sansloi, "Will you put me down now. . .I kinda want those back."

Sansloi yells in shock and mutters to the pixie "Well tha' wasn't as satisfying as I thought..." The woman trails off, chewing on her bottom lip. Sans' eyes flick from the pixie in her grasp to the flaming eyeballs on the floor. It posed an interesting predicament: she wanted to possibly murder the pixie, but was too fascinated by it at the same time. "If I let yeh go... Will yeh come back?"

Ginger pops her eyes back in, careful-like. To cool them off she pours a viscous black liquid into them. The sound isn't the expected hissing of steam, but a contented sigh. . .most definitely carnivorous. "I might. . .but I won't bite you again. . .Why'd you hit me when I came in here? Hurt sumpin awful. . .or gingery pain. . .or apple donuts. . .owwie." The pixie sits down in the half lotus and begins crying while holding her head. "Mean lady hit me. . ."

Sansloi cants her head to the side, pulling her lips to the left side of her face, her nose an unwilling accomplice to the gesture. Sans gives a single nod, "Good." Raising an eyebrow, Sans scans the odd pixie. "I diden hit yeh, but I can if yeh like!" walking herself over to the pixie, Sans raises her now balled fist into the air to bring it down on the pixie. Time to make good on the gingery pain.. or was it apple donuts?

Ginger is crying. . .so T'ots bites the woman instead.

Sansloi growls as the child bites her. Sans really did not like being bitten. Taking a step backwards from the second volley of mandible chomping, Sans drops to a knee, her right palm resting on the cave floor. "Why yeh little.." Scrambling, the woman lunges herself after the child, hoping to pin it down and slash its throat with her saber.

Ginger leaps up, tears forgotten. "Hold up, wait a minute. . .let's get some punchin' innit!!!" At these words. . .the child dissloves into mist. "You're a meanie face. . .and nobody hurts T'ots except me. . ." Ginger dashes around the cavern so quickly and deftly that all that is seen of her is the breeze moving the mist. . .the tiny pixie brings her reinforced jar down onto the womans head, rather hard.

Sansloi is not the fastest human in the lands, nor is she the brightest. The child that she had been attempting to assail had disappeared, but it went almost entirely unnoticed. The slice of her saber only managed to get her weapon embedded into the cave floor. Cursing her poor reflexes, it is only then that Sans notices the child is gone. Releasing her grip on the saber, Sans lifts her head, eyes searching the cave for the rancid little pixie. Unable to find the pixie, Sans comes to grips with her location as the jar crashes on to her skullcap rather hard. Lifting her arms upwards, Sans crosses her forearms over her forehead and the most forward part of her skull and crumples to the floor. A gurgle escapes her throat as Sans tries to push her way back to her feet and find the pixie. Bringing her hands down closer to her face, Sansloi balls them into fists and bobs them up and down rapidly, "If yeh're gonna fight, fight like a... er... human!"

Ginger said to you, "Okie-dokie. . .but if I win, you gotsta be my slave-thing-dude-consort!!! Muahahahahahaaaa!!! . . .or something."

Ginger is -that- amenable. The fog goes 'way, T'ots sits down like a good boy. . .and ginger gots a kick-ass sword, yo.

Sansloi grunts quietly, her brains - or what was left of them- really did fail to grasp the magnitude of the stakes. "Yeh, yeh, wha'ever."

Ginger stands up nice and tall-like. . .but not really. . .pixies aren't tall. The ugly, disfigured visage of the tyrannical pixie focuses on her current foe with an intent surprising for one so less-than-at-grips-with-reality. The steady advance toward the human woman isn't slow, but neither is Ginger rushing. Nothing escapes her notice. The sound of picks digging at the walls, the screams of women being murdered, the smell of old coal. . .all comingles to form a complete and detailed picture of the present that none could hold and stay sane. . .but that has never been priority one, has it? Ginger leaps into the air, ricocheting off the backswing of a dwarf's pick axe, turning her into a living shuriken. A quick prayer to Astrala unleashes the chaotic energies held in her blade. The pixie-shuriken-chao-bomb arcs toward Sansloi with submission-intented-damage-force, fo'sho'.

Sansloi bends down, her hand curling deftly around the hilt of her saber, and jerks it out of the ground. Smirking, it seems the only thing Sansloi –was- capable of, was battle. Flicking her wrist, Sansloi brings the blade to a ready stance, and waits. The woman’s eyes dart to the pixie as it launches itself off the edge of a pick axe and she crouches, the muscles in her calves and thighs tensing. As the pixie comes screaming towards her, the death knight ducks down and tumbles forward, kicking herself up back onto her feet and twisting. While the bulk of the attack had been escaped, Sansloi’s left heel had taken the blow and it forced the woman to limp. Her balance thrown off, the woman lunges forward, raising her saber up into the air and brings it down, the metal streaking in the dim lighting of the cave. A chopped off wing would suffice, if not, the trajectory and force would embed the blade into the ground once more.

Ginger bleeds chaos as she lands, the effluvient pooling around her and pulsating to her heartbeat. The severed wing lies on the ground across the cavern. "Quick one, aintcha?" The pixie circles, awkwardly balancing to compensate for her lost wing. Staggering along the outskirts of the area, she positions herself so that the death night is between her and her wing. A quick breath once again synchronizes the pixie with the present and she repeats her maneuver, almost exactly. . .almost. The sharp shrill whistle up-ends any remaining peace that had hung on. The puddling chaos rages in a tidal wave growing to engulf the two combatants and immolate them in destructive forces, but while that is all fine and dandy. . .the lost wing, also finds the whistle to be a demand it cannot ignore. The sharp ends point toward the sound and spear directly toward where they belong on Ginger's back. Sadly, a human woman lies in their unwavering path. The three threats collide in an explosion of force. No telling what the damage done amounts to.

Sansloi exhales hard, her own surprise more exhausting than the actual swing of her blade. Turning around, the woman eyes the now wingless pixie and flicks her saber up once more, the tip of the blade pointing directly at chaotic pixie. Smirking, Sansloi mumbles ‘I can beh.” Sansloi had meant to take at least two steps forward, but was halted by the whistle; curling her lip, the woman shakes her head attempting to rid her eardrums of the pitchy sound. Scrambling forward, Sansloi opts for a horizontal slash at the pixie, her arm crossing first over her stomach and then extended outward as far as it could reach; this would prove detrimental for the pixie if she opted to move either right or left within a six foot span. In her rage however, Sansloi fails to notice the now upright wing that had volleyed itself towards the pixie, and coincidentally, through her. Her right arm finds itself nearly with a hole in the middle, the spiked end of the wing making decent progress through the limb toward its owner. Snarling in pain, Sansloi is forced to drop the saber as she brings the pained arm across her chest and grips it to her. Sansloi really had no luck as the tidal wave of chaos comes crashing down; her only course of action is to tuck and roll even closer to the pixie.

Ginger is engulfed in the chaotic flood and revels flinging gobs after the woman. The chaos sinks into the pixie who begins to glow with the power, she swings the sword, nowhere near her opposer, but the slice is diffinitive. The walls begin dissolving as the gates of chaos rise from the depths and consume the two combatants. Ginger surrounds herself with energies, protecting herself from the debilitating effects. She draws closer to Sansloi, watching how she copes in order to strike with the most efficiency. She does.

Sansloi is forced to drop to the ground, baffled by the chaos surrounding her as well as being slowly drained by massive blood loss. The woman huffs quickly, her eyes darting from the pixie to the strange chaos globs and flood as it closes in around her. Her eyes widen rather rapidly at the imminent pain or confusion-whichever came first- and dashes blindly forward, her left arm swinging wide with a balled fist at the end. It was a hit or miss situation, and Sansloi knew she wouldn’t make it out of this with anything more than the air in her lungs.

Ginger leaps onto the woman's back. "You give up?" A few bruises and leaking chao-blood indicate the pixie's ruffled state. "I kill you now? or you serve me for eternity?" Ginger dips her blade in an amber liquid and places it against Sansloi's neck. "Cake or death?"

Sansloi takes several faulty steps forward as the pixie lands on her back. Something about this situation just didn’t feel right- as such, Sansloi leans forward, shaking her shoulders and torso hoping to remove the stubborn pixie. “Fer eternity?! Yeh ne’er said tha’!” The blade positioned against her neck forces the woman to stand upright, her chin lifted slightly higher than usual. “How ‘bout till yer wing grows back?” Sansloi’s attempts at negotiation were entirely futile, but scrambled eggs for brains was not entirely aware of the futility. “Cake actually does sound good right naow.”

Ginger nods as if it makes sense. "Fair nuff. . ." Ginger slides the blade into the woman's throat and withdraws it. . .all injuries on Sansloi fade away, leaving no mark. Everything returns to normal. . .but the death knight is asleep. Ginger pats her on the shoulder. "Remember, you don't remember, kay? But you're my officer, yo. . ."

Sansloi gasps quietly as the blade slides into her throat and immediately -post the removal of the blade-collapses on the ground, unconscious.