sometimes you just wanna go apeshit | PSL

[skypiercing]

[Dan Heng can't have been missing for more than a day before he suddenly reappears in the worst manner possible.

Not that most of Court would be wasting time trying to identify the enraged dragon who has already utterly decimated a building, the huge length of his body thrashing about in a blind rage, humidity hanging heavy in the air and the rumble of thunder building high above. Just approaching him is a risk: those teeth are huge and deadly, snapping at anything that gets too close.

Dan Heng had pushed himself to his limit, to keep hope from fading... to buy time for dawn to come. But there is only so far one can push, before the lines between dragon and human blur violently.]

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[eggshell]

[Dan Feng knew even before he saw Dan Heng what it was. It was impossible to miss, impossible to ignore: the incoming storm tasted of the day she died, of all those deathless years he spent in the throes of an insanity he brought upon himself, after he'd lost everything, ended only by Yaoshi looking at him.

He was intimately familiar with what Dragon's Delirium was like. And like this, as he stands on the square that the building borders, he feels just as terrified as he'd been back then, centuries ago.]

Dan Heng! [Dan Feng remembers how it felt for him: oversensitive, overwhelmed, a vicious, animal rage. He'd wanted to tear out the throat of anyone who came near, wanted to drown planets in the ocean that parted for him, wanted to delight in the viscera of these miserable little mortal ants. Anything to sate the ancient thirst of something he could not even begin to quench.

He doesn't think the other Vidyadhara would hear him. So as it is, he tries first, manifest several spears of water and throw hurl them at him.]

[skypiercing]

[If Dan Heng hears him, he certainly doesn't show it. The dragon seems more keen on tearing free of the buildings that are too close around him, preparing to launch himself into the sky before the spears come.

The first one hits, provoking a skyshaking roar as the dragon snaps at the projectiles, reddened eyes soon focusing on the one who's assaulted him. There's no recognition. Or maybe there is: Of an enemy, a threat.

One he doesn't hesitate to try and launch himself towards.

The lakeshore beyond seethes and churns, as if in echo of his fury.]

[eggshell]

[One moment, Dan Heng is diving for a small, humanoid figure: the next, he is hurtling towards a great wyrm like him, a mirror dipped in gold and rot. Dan Feng barely curls his tail, and massive, worldbearing branches spear out of the ground and at Dan Heng, trying to carve through him instead of deflecting.

It's hard to look at Dan Feng, now, without feeling the intrinsic revulsion at immortality desecrated. But he can get worse. He can get a lot worse. He is an Emanator, after all.]

[skypiercing]

[Even to his overwhelmed draconic mind, the wrongness is keen against his senses like a knife's edge. Perhaps even moreso because this is another dragon: This is wrong, wrong, all wrong.

He doesn't even hesitate to fly into the branches, claws tearing through and water gathering to shred through wood and vine, at least one managing to stab into his tail but only enraging him further. The closer he can get to the abomination in front of him, the easier it will be to tear at him with teeth and claw, massive jaws snapping at whatever they can reach of Dan Feng.]

[eggshell]

[He can sink his teeth into Dan Feng's flank - a section of him, muscle and sinew and wet bone, satisfying to tear through, to bite into, to - wait, why is it pulsing? Why is blood and viscera rushing into Dan Heng's mouth, curling around his tongue, like a sick sort of openmouthed kiss--]

Heng'er.

[Even telepathically the voice is layered and layered and layered upon itself, a legion unto itself, a dream into itself, infinity instead of eternity, and Dan Feng whispers insidious into his mind.]

Devour me.

[skypiercing]

[The sensation of flesh tearing beneath his teeth is a terribly visceral kind of satisfaction, enough so that he doesn't hesitate to dig his claws into whatever they can grasp, and the feeling of scales giving way beneath them is just as satisfying.

But the flesh beneath his teeth isn't giving the way it should, it crawls between his jaws and presses in, curls around his tongue as if fighting against being devoured... no, as if seeking to be devoured, eager to settle in his gullet. There's a rumbling snarl from his ichor covered snout, as if demanding the flesh in his mouth to act as it should, but that voice...

It's all encompassing. It's also the only noise in the dragon's head that isn't screaming, even if it is disconcerting in it's own ways.

And for all of that, it seems to draw the dragon that cannot even recall his own name at the moment to listen. Teeth crunch down on scale and bone, and if the flesh will not behave as it should, it should behave once it is in it's belly.]

[eggshell]

[He tastes sweet, like ambrosia. Filling, like everything Dan Heng would ever want, like it's everything he would ever need...

Dan Feng makes a sound like it could be a scream, but when has something pained sounded so beckoning? Maybe it was a moan.

While he's busy cannibalizing his predecessor - something they've all done, really, Dan Heng was just the first one to do it so literally - the rest of what remained of Dan Feng starts curling around Dan Heng's body, the severed coils of him tightening to hold him in place in what rubble remained of the courtyard.]

More, Dan Heng. [The flesh crawls further down into his throat, willing, offering.] Think of me. Think of how I taste. Think of how good it feels - listen to me. Me only.

[skypiercing]

[He's certainly managing a lot of firsts for their line, isn't he?

Dan Heng does not have much of a sweet tooth: But this, this taste... this feeling... it sinks down to the marrow of his bones, like something he's always needed, always craved, surely this very flesh and blood was meant to be his. His teeth gnash down on bone and scale, the eager scream only seeming to fuel his violence.

Yes, this is how it should be. Breathing is a difficulty, but he can't bring himself to think on it, with all his focus on tearing the other dragon open. The tightening hold, too, only gets claws dug deeper, dragging along the other's body while rending scales and flesh both. Surely they make a strange image: Two dragons locked in something that might be battle, might be a far more twisted embrace. It's likely getting hard to tell for anyone who might witness them.]