![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[ what's the closest you remember ever being to starvation? the leanest moment of your life, when the promise of tomorrow seemed more like a bleak, wry question? have you ever felt that way?
Angel Devil had never. Had never.
Turns out becoming a werewolf super-dee-duper exposes you to the experience.
You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward, paws striking damp, lifeless earth with enough force to leave tracks that are more like gouges behind you.
Ahead of you is prey.
You can feel it. But not in a way that feels quite right to any of your senses. That shining, that tempting, that chimingsingingbeating delicious thing is resonating with a leeching hollow in your chest, that reaches all the way down to gnaw, as well, in your stomach. You're hungry. You're starving. You're dimly aware that you have always been starving, but that this time, ripping and rending and clawing something to pieces might actually do something about it.
a lean predator sprints toward a flicker of vulnerable motion, every step a bound. ]
Angel Devil had never. Had never.
Turns out becoming a werewolf super-dee-duper exposes you to the experience.
You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward, paws striking damp, lifeless earth with enough force to leave tracks that are more like gouges behind you.
Ahead of you is prey.
You can feel it. But not in a way that feels quite right to any of your senses. That shining, that tempting, that chimingsingingbeating delicious thing is resonating with a leeching hollow in your chest, that reaches all the way down to gnaw, as well, in your stomach. You're hungry. You're starving. You're dimly aware that you have always been starving, but that this time, ripping and rending and clawing something to pieces might actually do something about it.
a lean predator sprints toward a flicker of vulnerable motion, every step a bound. ]
["Lean sprinting predator" aren't words that a gryphon like Muffin can normally relate to. but he knows hunger. he remembers parents skipping lunch to put another meal in their children's beaks, he remembers pretending not to notice while he and the other chicks sneakily divided their portions again to feed the hungriest chicks.
he remembers years and years of migrations, of traveling hundreds of miles with no food except what they could hunt or find. the alarm of prey when it saw the flock swooping down like a plague from above.
maybe "predator" isn't too far off.]
he remembers years and years of migrations, of traveling hundreds of miles with no food except what they could hunt or find. the alarm of prey when it saw the flock swooping down like a plague from above.
maybe "predator" isn't too far off.]
[ Everyone's counting on you.
For millenia and more, everyone's been waiting.
Your flock are all around you, sleeping, inside the trees,
And they will never,
Ever,
Wake up,
Unless you, clever hunter, catch that shining, innocent, unsuspecting thing.
It ducks and weaves as you get closer. It could be a game. You could make it a game. Wouldn't your duty be so much more pleasant if it was a game? ]
For millenia and more, everyone's been waiting.
Your flock are all around you, sleeping, inside the trees,
And they will never,
Ever,
Wake up,
Unless you, clever hunter, catch that shining, innocent, unsuspecting thing.
It ducks and weaves as you get closer. It could be a game. You could make it a game. Wouldn't your duty be so much more pleasant if it was a game? ]
Edited 2023-08-24 21:26 (UTC)
[why not make it a game? he would do anything for his flock, he would chase their prey as far as they need... but they're not awake to play with him. he has to make his own fun. let it run like a feather on a string.]
[ you feel a tension you didn't even know you had release, in your shoulders. it can be fun. you can make it fun. the blood on your muzzle, the screams and destruction and smell of smoke in the air as your toys march along in the background, as you leap upon the little light, like a beam of red striking down from the heavens--
the little castle's white wings are beating frantically, as it struggles amid your teeth. You shake it around like a rag doll, stray bricks scattering on the ground. This is fun. In fact-- it's really thrilling! It seems so weak in your teeth, but Alexander could kill you in a second, if you weren't as clever as you are, springing on it from behind. ]
the little castle's white wings are beating frantically, as it struggles amid your teeth. You shake it around like a rag doll, stray bricks scattering on the ground. This is fun. In fact-- it's really thrilling! It seems so weak in your teeth, but Alexander could kill you in a second, if you weren't as clever as you are, springing on it from behind. ]
[muzzle? teeth? smoke—? something's different there.
but he can't think about that now. he can't let Alexander go now, or he could become the prey. so he shakes it around and he stomps on its wings and he CRUNCHES with his sharp new teeth]
but he can't think about that now. he can't let Alexander go now, or he could become the prey. so he shakes it around and he stomps on its wings and he CRUNCHES with his sharp new teeth]
[ you remember, midway through delighting in your own viciousness, that you are supposed to keep Alexander alive, because while alone, you're powerful--
If you're able to catch the holy lightning in the bottle, you'll be transcendent.
It'll be delicate. It'll be dangerous. You have trouble, in your state, remembering the plan. What CAN you do, to keep the Holy Eidolon chained--? ]
If you're able to catch the holy lightning in the bottle, you'll be transcendent.
It'll be delicate. It'll be dangerous. You have trouble, in your state, remembering the plan. What CAN you do, to keep the Holy Eidolon chained--? ]
[stash it in a tree? hide it under someone's bed? dig a hole and bury it?]
[ > stash it in a tree.
The Iifa tree's great roots are all around you, an unfathomably large labyrinth. The roots are hungry. They seep with the rot of its old meals, restless and yearning decayed, dead souls-- you won't even be allowed to join the likes of them, if you fail. and you will fail. Your lifeblood is tacky on your back, laying down in the tree's farthest depths--
Nope, nah, not stashing it in a tree.
> hide it under someone's bed.
That would be better. But Alexander is dangerous. Better it be someone you wouldn't miss.
You think deeper about it, and find, to your chagrin, there's no one in the pasture you would want to use as an easy sacrifice. "No one deserves to die," you told the Eye. Fuck. Okay. Find another way.
> dig a hole and bury it.
You know what
You're a dog right now, so that sounds
GOOD ENOUGH TO YOU
Holding Alexander carefully in your teeth as it still jerks and struggles, you start furiously digging with your big ol' paws. ]
The Iifa tree's great roots are all around you, an unfathomably large labyrinth. The roots are hungry. They seep with the rot of its old meals, restless and yearning decayed, dead souls-- you won't even be allowed to join the likes of them, if you fail. and you will fail. Your lifeblood is tacky on your back, laying down in the tree's farthest depths--
Nope, nah, not stashing it in a tree.
> hide it under someone's bed.
That would be better. But Alexander is dangerous. Better it be someone you wouldn't miss.
You think deeper about it, and find, to your chagrin, there's no one in the pasture you would want to use as an easy sacrifice. "No one deserves to die," you told the Eye. Fuck. Okay. Find another way.
> dig a hole and bury it.
You know what
You're a dog right now, so that sounds
GOOD ENOUGH TO YOU
Holding Alexander carefully in your teeth as it still jerks and struggles, you start furiously digging with your big ol' paws. ]
Edited 2023-08-24 23:25 (UTC)
[hole is best! hole is the most secure! won't hurt anybody, not his sleeping flock or his smaller flock. he'll dig the BEST hole!!]
[ once the hole is very very deep, pressing in on you from every side, you lay down Alexander in his grave hiding place. You drop him, and pin him with a paw.
The beautiful gleaming sword at his center is marred with dirt. The white feathers are curling with black at the edges. You would give that holy one a gift of all gifts, something whispers to you, it is not too late, to change your mind and kill it here.
You stare down at the tiny castle.
Any moment now
You should just
Leap out from this pit
and hide it, properly. It's a castle, after all. Your palace did just fine, underground since the day it was built. It's damaged, but delivering it from this mortal coil wasn't the plan.
But you feel
Sorry
For it
Looking at it like that. ]
The beautiful gleaming sword at his center is marred with dirt. The white feathers are curling with black at the edges. You would give that holy one a gift of all gifts, something whispers to you, it is not too late, to change your mind and kill it here.
You stare down at the tiny castle.
Any moment now
You should just
Leap out from this pit
and hide it, properly. It's a castle, after all. Your palace did just fine, underground since the day it was built. It's damaged, but delivering it from this mortal coil wasn't the plan.
But you feel
Sorry
For it
Looking at it like that. ]
[it's not too late. that's true.
but if he has the chance to kill it, he has a chance for another option too.
so if he wants to lift his paw and preen the ruined wings... can't he?]
but if he has the chance to kill it, he has a chance for another option too.
so if he wants to lift his paw and preen the ruined wings... can't he?]
[ ...he can.
Alexander's wings flick agitatedly, at first, distrusting the very beast that had downed it. There's an ominous glare of light, in its sword. But...
After a while, of being carefully preened by a skilled hand(paw?hand? beak? It's a dream. You have whichever works best for what you want to do in the moment.), it stops struggling. There are still missing bricks. But it no longer looks pathetically wounded. More like it's... weathered.
Like life CAN potentially go on, after what you did. ]
Alexander's wings flick agitatedly, at first, distrusting the very beast that had downed it. There's an ominous glare of light, in its sword. But...
After a while, of being carefully preened by a skilled hand(paw?hand? beak? It's a dream. You have whichever works best for what you want to do in the moment.), it stops struggling. There are still missing bricks. But it no longer looks pathetically wounded. More like it's... weathered.
Like life CAN potentially go on, after what you did. ]
[he doesn’t offer Alexander any explanation or apology— he’s not proud of his viciousness in the hunt, but he won’t make excuses for his flock.
but he’s careful with his claws-fangs-beak, and when the feathers are tidied, he curls up with the castle, sheltering it with his wings-tail.]
but he’s careful with his claws-fangs-beak, and when the feathers are tidied, he curls up with the castle, sheltering it with his wings-tail.]
[ this is important. this is what will help you help your flock weather the coming storm. a price of viciousness, today, to ascertain their beautiful sunrise, tomorrow.
but you do not have to be ruthless at all moments, at all times.
never, as the dream drifts to a close... has something felt more true. ]
but you do not have to be ruthless at all moments, at all times.
never, as the dream drifts to a close... has something felt more true. ]
Edited 2023-09-04 19:18 (UTC)
[he might notice some familiar red feathers hung up prettily in the window
and if he hangs around the property long enough, he’ll hear an excited birdsong and a cheer when Muffin discovers his PRESENT]
and if he hangs around the property long enough, he’ll hear an excited birdsong and a cheer when Muffin discovers his PRESENT]
[ red leaves, on the rooftop. could have just been brought by the wind.]
Edited 2023-09-11 02:46 (UTC)
[muffin spends most of Day 31 indoors, unable to go far from his teammates.
but. sooner or later he'll find the leaves and when he does... he'll gather them up and add them to the decorations in his room.]
but. sooner or later he'll find the leaves and when he does... he'll gather them up and add them to the decorations in his room.]
[ angelcube cometh-- er. ange
L cube fizzleth into existence. it's crackling with interference, due to being in the woods when he finally Breaks to say something and forgetting it's gonna be all jacked up in signal-- ]
You we//re righâ– â– . Taran|||||| and frogs can real...
[ ...
it breaks up too much to hold together. ]
L cube fizzleth into existence. it's crackling with interference, due to being in the woods when he finally Breaks to say something and forgetting it's gonna be all jacked up in signal-- ]
You we//re righâ– â– . Taran|||||| and frogs can real...
[ ...
it breaks up too much to hold together. ]
Edited 2023-09-14 14:07 (UTC)
[ the second cube comes some minutes later, assumedly when he's actually somewhere the signal isn't Shit. ]
...is it-- [ the cube openly just. Looks at him, a few seconds. a bit overlong for verifying the signal is steady. ] ..it IS clear.
Muffin,
I
Still owe you... a proper answer.
...is it-- [ the cube openly just. Looks at him, a few seconds. a bit overlong for verifying the signal is steady. ] ..it IS clear.
Muffin,
I
Still owe you... a proper answer.
[that couple minutes wait had Muffin half-scrambling half-falling out of the Daffodil cat tree. his cube's little wings are fluttering, mimicking how he's VIBRATING in the middle of the room, hanging onto every pause and word]
Where are you?
Where are you?
Page 1 of 30