Fantasy Post-apocalyptic Fantasy [ Jump-in RP ! ]

[galacticspaceray]

Ashtar held onto every bit of her self-control to stop herself from screaming as she heard the roar. Then, her face set itself as she kept running, the suburbs echoing with her footsteps. If she had to, she would hide along the rooftops of the city's skyscrapers, and if she had to, she would confront the creature after her.


She just hoped that would not happen.


@Malhyanth

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


The laugh that suddenly erupted from the beast was genuine as he watched the kid stand up for himself. He was an odd one, and the grin that settled upon the features of the canine beast-man wasn't pleasant as he closed the gap again and used his claws to grip the bloodied wound he left. He knew it would hurt, knew it would elicit the strange moans so like his own when he found himself confronted with the euphoria of a wound. This kid was too much like a human version of himself. The words that hissed out of his clenched teeth were serrated and punctuated with saliva drooling from his teeth, pink tinged.


"Being brave now, are ve?" The claws tightened and twisted, to bring the teen to his knees. Nerves were such fun things; even if his brain did not render the pain properly, his body would remember, and react. It was something the Bone Collector knew all too well. "I give djou a vay to protect djourshelf, and now djou are brave. Good. Go on. Shtab me with djour little blade." His own was drawn, the machete of bone twirled about his fingers as it was levelled at the boy's eye. "Djou dare zhrow my mashk? Djou don't know vhat it ish djou do." He lowered the blade. A barking laugh escaped as it danced around the level of his heart, and he sank himself down to crouch in front of the boy.


The blade twirled easily within his grasp, a practiced move. It had been a while since he had such a difficult opponent. And by Death's Hourglass was the Collector going to let this lad beat him. The blade ran down the front of his shirt, already rumpled and strained by the claws that moments before had gripped it. The sharp edge made easy work of the material. He hummed in appreciation as he lowered the blade. So little flesh on this kid. Seemed a shame to waste his energy on it. The Collector pointed the blade into a point just below his right clavicle. Blood blossomed as he pushed down it, and he grinned.


"Go on. I shee it in djour eyesh. Retaliate." His tongue lashed out over his blood stained lips. The sneer was exaggerated by his torn lip, and he idly turned his face away, to the direction the mask had been thrown. "Our Dark Mashter vill be mosht dishpleashed djou zhrew zhat. I 'ope for djour shake it ish not damaged..." The words were a contemplative musing, though the tone was punctuated with a little further pressure being applied to the blade in the teen's collarbone. Head still turned, his eye returned to look at the boy, and a grin, again, as he stood suddenly, withdrawing his blade, and using his purchase in the kid's wound with his claws to literally toss him towards the mask's resting place. "Get it, now, boy. Or djour brozher vill fail in 'ish quesht to keep djou alive."

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth


Rua's laughter was cut short as his wound was gripped hard. Pain and delight shot through him all at once, and he was indeed brought to his knees. The gleam in his eyes, a hint of want, and some form of desire and longing, as well as that small hint of insanity shined in those hazel orbs as he looked up at the creature. Defiance as well was there, in the lines of his face, even somewhat visible in that euphoric smile that seemed almost permanently plastered to his face.


When that knife was brought to his eye level, Rua eyed it with anticipation, a shiver racing over his body and he licked his lips almost in a seductive manner. He wriggled slightly, as if trying to bring himself closer to that knife, despite the grip the other had on him. There were of course hints of pain in Rua's expression, small and subtle, they were there, but gods above this felt too good for the pain to fully register. It'd been so long since anyone had hurt him so deliciously. Not since his brother's passing.


Then the creature crouched before him, and sliced his shirt open with that knife. As the thin material fell open it revealed the young man's slight torso, and many scars that already rested there. Old and white. The most recent ones only a year or two old. All of Rua's scars, even the ones from his Father were either on his chest or his back, never his arms, and a few on his thighs. Some of the scars on his chest were far to jagged, to mean looking to have been made with a knife. A sharp rock or a rugged piece of metal. Whatever had been handy at the time had made those. The most horrible of the scars were the word across the center of Rua's chest. Clearly put there by the boy's own hand.


A name carved in jagged letters, and with some difficulty as he had been looking down at it. Noa. It was his brother's name, and that scaring was only a year old at best. Rua had looked down when the shirt fell open, eyeing those scars for a moment, but his expression never changed, and when he felt that knife pressed into his clavicle he glanced up at the creature. A soft noise escaped him as blood was drawn with that knife, but all too soon, it was pulled away.


Rua didn't retaliate, he was too caught up in these feelings, in the sudden want for more pain, to even remember he had picked up his knife. A grimace crossed his face for a moment, as he was lifted by that injured arm and tossed away. A soft grunt left him as he hit the floor and his knife went sliding from his hand. His body trembled, shook, as he lifted himself to his hands and knees. That left arm shaking more than the rest of him as pressure and weight was applied to the injured muscle.


The human tossed his head back and laughed. It was a hysterical laugh, and slowly he got to his feet and slowly that laughter died away as he stood. Turning to look at the creature. "My brother..?" For a moment Rua looked confused as the creature mentioned his brother, but then that gaze darted to a corner, where the ghost stood. "My brother can't do anything to you, and he looks so sad right now. I never knew ghosts could cry." Rua sounded almost pleased at the sadness of his brother. "In life, he was a force to be reckoned with, but in death, the only thing he can protect me from is myself, and he has such a hard time doing that." 


Hazel eyes drifted from the ghost only he saw, to the creature. "I will not fetch your bone for you, dog. If you want it so badly, go and get it yourself." Rua had let the remains of his shirt slip off of his shoulders and down his arms. He turned his back to the creature as his expression fell, replaced by worry. The blonde seemed a bit paler, though it might be hard to tell in the dark, he definitely felt lightheaded. Woozy, so to speak. Unsteady on his feet. He swayed for a moment, his right hand reaching out to grasp something. Anything to keep him from losing his balance.


Malnutrition coupled with this blood loss and pain were most likely the culprits for this woozy feeling that washed over him. It drowned out the pain and pleasure he got from such pain. He didn't like this at all. This woozy feeling, it reminded him too much of the feeling the medicine his Father gave him to knock him out before an experiment.

 

[Malhyanth]

The beast-man marvelled at the scars that decorated the defiant youth. Seriously, he didn't think much of the name tag across his chest, but each to their own, he supposed. His teeth marks would certainly fit in well. A slow clap came from his palms as he walked toward the youth, and indeed, he did stoop to pick up the mask the boy was standing by, back to him. He also took into his hand the knife that had skittered across the floor as he'd landed. The Bone Collector looked at the boy, saw his pale shade, and his closed eyes. Oh dear. Someone wasn't as tough as they thought. It was of no concern though. It was clear, looking at the boy, and experiencing his reactions, that pain and torture were not going to achieve his desired result. He had to change tact. What do you do to the dog that craves attention, whether good or bad? You take it away.


"I shee..." He mused, twirling the boy's makeshift knife between the pads of his two index fingers. The tip of the blade pierced his pad, and he let the little bead of red grow as he slowly spun the blade about, before giving it a short spin across the back of his knuckles to offer the handle to the boy, as he came to a stop next to him. He settled his skull mask, noting the boy had been extremely lucky it had only gained a covering of dust and a scuff across the forehead part. Something easily buffed away with time and patience. He allowed a small smile grace his lips as he stared at the meagre possessions of the kid, now scattered about the room that he'd been tossed. "I shee now djou vould razher vallow in djour own shelf pity zhan take vhat I offer." The shrug was non-chalant, the hand that landed, probably purposefully onto the bite wound with a gentle squeeze.


"Djou youngshtersh. Alvaysh fighting againsht zhe vill of our Dark Mashter. I guessh, vhen djou are ready, djou vill sheek me. I'll leave djou, now. Enjoy djour painsh. I cannot 'ave baggage shuch ash djou drag me back." With a final squeeze of that wound, the Collector turned from the boy and his possessions, and went back to the smoulder that was left of his fire. Barely any light was left glowing, a reddish smoulder bouncing around the small space. The Collector bent and cursed himself; the bowl he'd thrown so viciously at the lad in his fit of rage had not survived his actions as well as his skull had survived the boy's. Four pieces rocked as he prodded them with his claw. A few small shards from the cracks also littered the ground. He cursed again, more a harsh sound than any word, and kicked them into the smouldering ashes as he stood. "Damn... I'll need a new bowl..." He cast a look over his shoulder to identify if the boy was still conscious, then busied himself with securing his pouches, placing any stray items; his pestle, the empty pouch that had his herbs and roots mix in, the flint and striker. All of these were secured upon his belt.


"Goodbye, Litte Rabbit. I 'ave a bird to 'unt, and djou... djou're washting my time."

 

[Kry]

Rua paid little attention to the creature, as he was far too busy trying not to fall over. A hand rested on the wall closest to him, and he was panting slightly as if he couldn't catch his breath. No, the panting came from fear. Fear had over taken the boy now, not fear of the creature. The fear of unconsciousness, of a sleep that he had no control over. The fear of the things that might be done to him during such a sleep. It didn't help that his brother's voice in his head was saying things that made no sense. Pleading for Rua to ask the creature for help, when before Noa had been adamant against interacting in any way with the creature. Though the ghost realized many things that Rua did not. Without any form of help at all, the boy might die.


His eyes fluttered a bit, his brow creasing as he tried to hide the fear in them as the creature came closer. Of course it wasn't fear of the creature, but regardless Rua didn't want the creature to see the emotion, he did look at the creature though. Mostly watching the knife as it was twirled and then danced upon the back of that creature's knuckles. Then that weapon was handed to him, and Rua blinked, only now realizing how close the creature had come to him. His hand was shaking a bit as he plucked the knife weakly from that creature.


Surprise flashed in Rua's eyes when his injured arm was grabbed, surprise at the pain that raced through him, absent of the pleasure it had held earlier. A grimace and a grunt left the human as the injury was squeezed and when the creature released him, Rua fell to his knees. Still panting a bit, not quite understanding much, the beast spoke of a Dark Master, but it wasn't the first time Rua had heard him say such things. The blonde shook his head and stood slowly as the creature bent to poke at the broken bowl. For some reason, Noa urged Rua to ask about the Dark Master, but he ignored the ghost. That useless ghost.


His grip on the knife tightened until his knuckles turned very white, and he grit his teeth. His head still swam, and now the creature was standing, glancing at Rua. He fought that woozy feeling as best he could, fought to remain steady on shaky legs as he suddenly lunged towards the creature. With his right hand he swung that knife wildly, but viciously. It was obvious that Rua didn't know how to properly wield the weapon, or maybe his brain was too addled with everything for him to focus clearly. The chances of him striking a blow were slim to none, but that didn't stop him, he didn't seem to care.


There were even tears running down his face, but he didn't even understand why he was crying.

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


The boy's actions were not quite what had been expected, but the grin that spread across the wolffish creature's face as he lunged with that makeshift knife was pure enjoyment of the situation. Two such broken things in this apocalyptic world!! He raised his arm, but did not move, did not deflect, instead he let the blade slice him from palm to elbow, though it's design meant it was nothing more than a superficial wound, it may not even scar. The teen was weak, and the beast-man could feel it. He stood his ground as the kid followed through his lunge and ended up against his chest. Instead of pushing him away, or retaliating, he lowered his injured arm, and laid it to rest around the young man's shoulders, holding him to his chest.


"Vell now. Zhere vas shome pep, eh kid?" The creature just remained where he was. He could feel the kids tears dampening his fine, silky fur. What an odd sight this must be, to any that happened to stumble across such a scene in this post-human realm. Two bodies, so equally scarred, in a half-arsed embrace as one looked bored, propping up the other whom was clearly upset and malnourished. "Maybe I wash wrong to doubt djour gall." Raising his sliced arm, he saw the thin trail that had sliced from palm to nook of arm. It was a good go! With a blade of longer length, and a bit more strength behind it, that could have cost him the use of his hand!


The Bone Collector allowed the teen his time. He just held him quietly, holding him up with the injured arm, his other resting on the top of his blond hair. When he himself had had enough of this comforting, he held the kid out at arms' length. He tutted at the sight of him. Not his scars, for whom was he to judge another based on his appearance. At least this Little Rabbit didn't have any facial scarring... The Bone Collector tried to push the automatic response of 'let's fix that' out of his mind. It was his ribs, his collar bones, his hips. They were all nearly as stark as the Collector's own, and he was designed by the Dark Master to appear as skeletal as he did!! You couldn't run fast on a flabby body!


"Come, Rabbit." The word was no longer said with the same level of spite. Instead, it was almost like a fatherly care had come over the masked beast. Guiding with his hands on the kid's shoulders, he sat him down by the glowing embers. Once he was safely propped up against a pile of rubble, the Collector picked up the shrub he'd torn up. It's branches snapped up easily. He added them to the fire, where the heat from his embers caught its dry mass fast, and light once again flooded the area. He continued to shred the primary stem, and made it manageable to put into the young flames. Reaching into his pouches, a large slice of jerky was offered to the kid.


"Itsh not 'uman. Couldn't tell djou exshactly vhat it ish, but djou von't be a cannibal if djou eat it. I von't lie to djou." It was true when he said he couldn't remember, but he knew he'd not hunted man for a fair few months. A beast-man, that looked like a cat, sure. And some sort of sentient horse. But no human. He wouldn't tell him it could be cat person or horse thing, he didn't need to know that. The main thing was it was meat, it was protein, and it might stop his body eating away at itself. He turned his back on the kid to find a large branch. "Ushe djour knife. Shlished me good. It'll make zhat more manageable."


He left the light for a moment, and entered the other room. His other cans were nearly stacked, labels faded. He needed something sugary, to combat the shock. He picked them up, looked at the sun-bleached labels and screw his face up at each. This kid had a thing for rabbit food!! Finally, a tin of peaches made itself known. The peaches didn't interest the Collector, but the words 'in syrup' did. He remembered as a young beast, his mother making a syrupy drink from a certain kind of tree sap, fermented with honey. Birchsyrup she'd called it, and it was delectable for the youngster's.


Returning to the fire, he sat close to the kid, ignoring his tear stained face, and whether he'd attempted the jerky, and set to work piercing the top of the can with his bone blade. He made a few incisions, and then clicked the top out. He offered it to the kid with a grunt that may have been 'drink', but it was a half arsed attempt at best. Blade was sheathed once again, and he inspected his pouches for something specific.


"Shomevhere, I 'ave shomezhink zhat vill eashe djour pain, and 'elp djour sshoulder shtop bleeding. No ushe me giving djou my food ash vell if djou jusht bleed out vonshe djou fall ashleep." The words were more for himself. He could feel a heavy presence on his mind, and couldn't decifer if the fog was from whatever black magic had corrupted this young man, or if his actions had drawn the attention of his Dark Master. He hoped, almost prayed, it was the former. What he did now, this would not please his Dark Master. This kid's hourglass clearly had ended its run, that could be the only reason they had met in this desolation. The Collector didn't collect the living. He collected the dead, and kept a momento of them. What was he thinking, keeping this boy alive? His fingers rummaged, and finally found the metal, small snuffbox he'd been searching for. "Zhish... zhish vill likely 'urt more zhan zhe bite..." He said it fast and low, just as he started to sprinkle whatever odd powder he had into the wound; the rancid smell, the popping of flesh as whatever he'd thrown in forced coagulation in the most brutal of ways. If that didn't make the kid pass out, he was definitely made of sterner stuff that the Collector had given him credit for!

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth


Rua was was surprised that the blade made contact, but he didn't let that stop him. He sliced that arm, from palm to elbow, a long but mainly shallow cut. Then he fell against the creature's chest, dropping that knife again and clutching to the beast tightly, Rua had no idea what he was doing anymore. His head swam, it was filled with shouts of anger and despair. His ghost was at wits end, one moment urging Rua to strike at the creature's heart, in the next moment urging the already confused boy to stop and ask the creature for help. He closed his eyes tightly, and finally the voice in his head quieted.


He wasn't sure how long they stood there, nor did he care, the fur felt good against his skin and he clung tightly to it, until the creature pulled away. His eyes opened, dazed and confused. Pained and a little glassy. The tears stopped soon after that, but evidence of them was apparent on his face. Stained and streaked with them. Rua didn't resist when the creature guided him over to a place to sit, a low sigh left his lips as he sat and leaned against the rubble. It felt so good to sit down.


Rua's head was uncharacteristically clear for once, and when his eyes danced about to find his brother, the ghost was no where in sight. For a moment it brought a sad smile to his lips, then that smile was gone as quick as it had come. When that jerky was offered to him, Rua took it with a shaky right hand, slowly bringing it to his mouth. Not questioning nor really caring if it were human or something else. It was meat. He wasn't sure when the last time he'd had meat was.


He bit into that jerky with vigor and hunger, devouring it as quickly as he could. It was a bit tough, but he didn't care. He gnawed and chewed at it until there was none left, then he licked his fingers. Not caring that they were also stained with blood and dirty. He barely noticed when the creature walked away, his words almost not even registering as well. Rua blinked up at him when he returned with the peaches, and handed that opened can to him.


It smelled good. Rua took the can, almost eagerly, bringing it to his lips and drinking that syrup greedily. A small satisfied sound left his lips, once he drained the can of all the liquid he could, he set it down. Nearly dropped it before it touched the floor safely, his head tilted back and turned slightly to watch the creature. A dazed, disinterested look on Rua's features, until those eyes landed on the cut he had left on that creature's arm. He blinked, his eyes seemed to clear a bit.


Rua reached out to touch the injury he had caused, a bit hesitantly, as the creature moved to apply a powder to his wound. Fingertips briefly brushed against the creature's arm, a very soft green glow emitted from Rua's fingertips where he touched the creature. A cold but gentle tingling sensation would then be felt by the creature, slipping up the arm that held the injury Rua had given him. The glow and sensation would stop immediately as Rua's hand dropped, his body jerking slightly as that powder touched him and did it's thing. Eyes wide with intense pain, and his mouth had opened into a silent O, then those eyes closed, that mouth shut quickly and his body slumped.


His chest heaved, breathing hard from the pain he had just been subjected to, but he was unconscious now.

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


The Collector hadn't caught the green glow, focusing more on making sure the kid was alright as he dealt with the searing, explosive pain of the powders he had used. As expected, the poor kid collapsed with the pain, and the Collector eased him down, so that he didn't choke on his own tongue, or suffocate. He knelt beside the teenager for a moment, scratching idly at the shallow slice on his arm, where the blood was pulling slightly on his fur. He didn't look; he knew what had happened, and having missed the glow from the boy's hand, he didn't know anything untoward had happened.


"Deazh's cloak... Vy'Ziot... vhat are djou doing?" He rubbed his face with his padded palm, and stood, feeding the fire some fresh wood, and standing over the kid to assess what he should be doing. The naked flesh of the kid was too pale. And with this wind, he was going to be getting cold, even if he was unconscious. "Raaaah, Noa. If djou are real, I 'ope djou are taking notesh right now." He growled, his hand flopping to his sides as he stalked out of the ruin of a building they had set up camp in.


The Collector entered the buildings around the camp, and gathered any material that could be use as bedding for the bone thin kid. He gently lifted the younger man's head to put underneath a cushion that had faded in the light through the windows of the property, that he'd spied and broken in to take. A few houses down, he found what looked like a hooded jumper, that had some kind of metal sliding fastener. He grabbed it, and also some random large material things that may have once been blankets, but were now faded and moth water. Taking the jumper and laying it over the naked torso of the lad, he then piled over the other pieces of material. He figured the kid would like to cover himself more than the Bone Collector did. He didn't have fur, so that was probably the reason.


With the kid now wrapped up, the Collector decided now was the time to seek food. The jerky seemed to of been devoured. Clearly this kid had no real skills for survival. How had he got this far? The Collector watched him sleep for a while, wondering what strange plan the Dark Master had for them both. They'd been thrown together for a reason. He just had to work it out. His red eyes lingered a moment more, and then he turned, and this time he followed his nose. He lowered to all fours, hips popping as he went, paw like feet splaying as he started his hunt. He knew now he was not likely to get back on track with his bird hunt, not for a while. He pushed his rising disappointment and frustration down once again. He had to focus. As he swept back and forth, he finally caught an old scent that made him stop and retrace his steps a little. Undulate... small. Something like a muntjac. He started to follow the scent; tonight venison was on the menu.


As he started to hunt, he raised his head a moment to identify where his nose was leading him; the buildings were thinning, and more plant life was starting to appear. This deer creature was leading him back to nature, and this was something the Collector surely wasn't going to complain about!! He had been craving it for a while, and as he'd followed the trail of the bird-girl, he'd been hoping to find her between the trees. Instead, he'd found a broken child, and a headache! This hunt would help clear his mind. The sky above was only just starting to tiny with a yellow-grey light, so he had plenty of time to hunt, and return with food for them both.

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth  ][Well, that happened. >.>; I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. *flails around and runs out the door*][


It was an easy sleep, though sleep wasn't quite the right term for it, it was unconsciousness. Pure and simple, a void, a darkness that was neither tangible nor physically seen. Rua made no outward signs to indicate he felt the creature laying him down or speaking, as he hadn't felt or heard anything, in a sense. Some part of his body probably had, but not any important parts. Rua laid there peacefully, skin and bones, but peaceful. That ghost of his, unseen by anyone now that the only one that could see him was unconscious, hovered around the creature. Noa followed it when it moved about, but the ghost did not follow it far beyond the building Rua was in.


That ghost, powerless to do anything, merely silently watched over his brother. Confused and scowling, but unseen. Oh how he wanted to be seen though! He wanted to speak with this creature, perhaps speak was not the right term, Noa wanted to gut this creature and make it suffer for hurting his brother.


If one could see the ghost, a conflicted expression flitted across his silent face, he wanted to hurt the creature. He also wanted to speak with the creature. Ask it questions that Rua was to stupid to ask, and to stubborn to ask once Noa told him what to ask. He was useless and powerless, quite honestly, as much Noa loved his brother in a twisted, obsessive, controlling kind of way, the ghost wanted to leave. Leave behind that weak and useless, living boy. Something kept him, something tethered him to Rua, and it was not a tether that could easily be broken. Something to do with the necromancers that had been around Rua when Noa's spirit had been called back to this world.


Noa quietly watched as the creature covered Rua with a jumper, and old moth eaten blankets. Rua of course remained unresponsive, but his breathing got easier, and his body had seemed to relax under the coverings that had been placed over him. Actual sleep had replaced the unconsciousness. Then that creature was finally leaving, and the ghost's expression was a smug one. 'Good riddance to bad rubbish' he thought, and then smiled. That meant Rua was his again. All his. Since he couldn't break that tether and leave, he might as well protect and torment the boy as usual. There was no doubt that Noa did love Rua, but his love for his twin was a very unhealthy one, and the ghost knew that his brother was wholly addicted to him.


Most of the ghosts fears about the creature stemmed from the belief that Rua might actually try to replace him, his own brother, with that horrible creature. It honestly looked like the type of grotesque thing that Rua would be captivated by, as the living twin had always thought the oddest things were beautiful. Noa was pleased now, the creature was gone, and the ghost moved to lay down next to his brother. Wrapping ghostly arms around him and holding him close, a soft sound of contentment lifted from the sleeping Rua's lips.


Noa would be sorely disappointed and furious if that creature came back.

 

[Malhyanth]

((If anyone following wants to jump in and join us please do!! I won't be responding till this evening as I'm at work all day! @galacticspaceray; did you want to bring your girl in, or leave her off exploring elsewhere? Either way is fine, I just don't want to seem like myself and @Kry here are running amok in this RP and no one else can post c; ))

 

[Yohimitsu]

Johnathan and Lucian walked carefully towards the abandoned church where they had made their home. The two carefully stepped in, John sitting on a counter, sighing and unfolding his stripped wings. "They really did a number on those didn't they?" Lucius gently ran his long fingers over the exposed bone of Johnathan's wing. "How many?" He asked under his breath, his head dropped after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry." as Lucius began to step away from his partner, John grabbed his arm and pulled him into an embrace. "38 Luci" he sighed, defeated. A sound outside made Lucius jump, John looked up, tightening his hold on Lucius. His scar covered body tensed, feathers pulled from his 3 years of imprisonment and torture. Lucius wrapped his stunning raven wings around Johnathan to keep him warm, "there must be something we can get for you to cover up your body, youre shaking dear" John nodded, letting go of his embrace and getting off the counter. He shuffled through some drawers and found an old tshirt, and pulled it on over his wings, folding them carefully.

 

[galacticspaceray]

( @Malhyanth ye i was thinking about bringing ash in again)


In her haste to get away from the creature, Ashtar had accidentally made one too many turns and ended up in the forest, but that was fine with her. Being in a forest would make things easier.

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


Bloody coursed through the beast-man's veins as he started his hunt proper; like a big cat, his eyes were trained on his muntjac prey through the overgrown scrub that covered this part of the dilapidated town. His back paws, and their long, scimitar claws, scratched in the Earth beneath them in preparation for the chase to come. It was a sturdy little buck, as with all things in this world, not quite as recogniseable as its pre-apocalypse cousins; in this case, the fangs were far longer then pre-Earth muntjacs, it's antlers were many pronged and forward facing, two sets of eyes were now surveying the landscape, and it's back held a ridge of sharp spines. All defencive mechanisms designed to stop the predators getting to it, but predators had also evolved, and they now looked like the Collector. He sank lower as it dipped its head to drink from the crystalline brook he'd followed its scents to. It was distracted, unaware... dead. With unbridled power, the beast-man launched. His powerful quadrupedal form carried him the distance with ease, and once those four eyes had spotted him, and the legs started to run, it was too late. Strong jaws clamped over the spiny neck of the creature, and the crack reverberated through his skull as all power left its limbs and body, going limp, falling deathly still. Spitting it out as he stood erect on his hindlegs too, he grabbed it in his hands and hefted between his arms, testing its weight and judging its suitability.


It would feed them both well. He had anticipated a much longer starvation period, as he hunted the bird-girl, but with things going the way they had, the Collector needed to accept that for the time being, his preferred prey had eluded him, flown the coop, gone from his tastebuds. Gutting, really, but nevertheless, he found himself in a bit of a quandary, and musing over lost delicacies wasn't going to fix the issue he was now presented with. What was his Dark Master's plan? Bringing this... simply pathetic, really, young man into his path. The kid couldn't even open a can, for crying out loud!! He lacked all sense of survival strategy, and was simply wasting away, more ghost than the phantom that followed him! The sigh that rocked the Collector's frame was full and satisfying. He knelt for a moment and cleared his mind. His low, rolling song flooded the little clearing and brook, an ancient chime, thanking the Dark Master for this feast. His blade was drawn, and a limb was expertly carved from the beast, popping the shoulder joint so it came away cleanly. The foreleg was left for whatever natural beasts came for it. His thanks to the Universe complete, he hefted the beast to his shoulders, using a loose braid of tall reed from the creek to bind the remaining legs in from of his chest. The oozing space where the other leg had been carved ran a torrent of red down his front, but he didn't seem to notice, nor care.


With such a prize, he'd have to make the journey back on two legs, which would give him time to think. As he stepped from the bloody scene of the crime, he stopped, and felt about his pouches. Inside one, a larger one was rolled; a water skein. He unravelled it, and knelt beside the stream, filling it, before drinking greedily, then refilling. The kid would need some proper water at this rate. He wasn't likely to have the same abilities as the Collector when it came to sustenance.


"Psssht!!! 'Umansh... sho veak!!!" His huff was said to nowt but the dead deer about his shoulders. Why? Why he of all the followers of the Dark One, why him to care for this child? This infant in this world of cruelty. Sure, he'd clearly seen his fair share of torture, and pain, but what made him special to the Dark Master? Humans only served him by being born, living, and dying, returning to his earth, and feeding those stronger. They weren't special. They weren't scary. They could bared wipe their own asses half the time!!! And yet this hazel eyes, blond haired scrap of nothing had survived all manner of atrocity to land in the lap of he that served most faithfully! He whom should have killed him on sight!!! But he hadn't...  "Vhy?!" The Collector shouted the word out to anyone that might be listening as he exited the greenish pasture and headed back towards the greys, browns and blacks of the ruined city, following his own trail. Why had he spared him? He was an interesting child, sure. Spoilt brat also came to mind, reminding the scarred beast-man of the female he'd aimed to woo; of himself, not so much younger than that boy. Spoilt, with little realisation of the atrocities of such a world as this. Yes he'd experienced hate; be they'd let him live. The Collector too, had been spared, but his claws were a fine weapon in their own right, something his human captors had forgotten when they came to beat him for the last time. He'd shown them what survival really was, and when he'd managed to make his way back to his Tribe... well... A clawed hand rose to the skull mask. The less said about that the better. There was a reason it fit so well, and it certainly had a lot to do with the way the shapes matched so well. No humanoid skull other than one like his own would sit so perfectly, so precisely.


Long legs ate the distance fast. To be honest, it had only taken this long to find the deer, the sun now making an appearance on the horizon, because it had meandered. When the Collector started to recognise buildings, he took the shorter root; that church steeple was not far from the fountain, which was just a stone's thrown to his chosen abode. The walk cleared his head, and allowed him a chance to assess what was going on, question his Master. He knew that until he slept, which had not been since that 4 days ago when he'd first been directed to this city, would he receive any sort of correspondence from his god. It was a hard life, being the murdering preacher of a god of death!


The fountain came into view, and the hunter sighed with relief. His chest was sticky and cloying with the blood matting into his silken fur. The ruin of their abode came into sight, the flames still glowing, despite the increase in dawn light. Little birds flitted about, singing their merry little songs, until the scent of death that radiated off of the Collector sent their little hearts into a flurry and off they shot to escape it. Setting the carcass down on the low wall that boarded off their camp, the knife was drawn, and slices were taken from the hide. The skin came away in a swift jerk, and a haunch was separated. This was laid upon the fire. Not for the Collector, of course, but the unconscious boy whom now seemed to be snoring; at least he'd come out of this unconsciousness and was now sleeping properly. Sleep was good; it was a healing force. The skin of the deer was worked on; the majority of the flesh removed from it to leave a clean hide. He needed a replacement cowl. Or at least a way to lengthen it. His tail wagged from side to side happily as he worked, the knife making practiced cuts in the carcass to divvy up the meat. A branch was found, and a rig made to sit in the sun as it rose. Thin slices of this venison were laid over it, a salt and herb mixture from a pouch worked into each slice to help draw out moisture. More jerky for the beast that had many more places to visit. The haunch on the fire was starting to spit and scorch, so it was turned carefully. Sure, the outside would by smokey and ash laden, but beggars could not be choosers, and the meat inside would still be succulent and sweet. With his work done, the Collector finally sat, his own haunch left raw, which he set to his side, and used the sharp blade to take off fine slithers, which he chewed in contemplation. The kid slept on. Yawning wide, his jaw creaking, the Collector first checked on the haunch in the fire, turning it again to ensure an even cook, then settled back, hunger sated for now, blade placed upon his own raw meat, and he leant back against the wall he sat by. Was the sun rose, and flooded the cloudless sky, the heat picking up, his eyes drifted closed. His ears were still pricked to pick up sounds of intruders; the adage one eye open may have been applied, but for now, he allowed himself some rest.

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth


The ghost was content, it was just him and his brother again, though the spirit did want to be free of him and drift off to wherever spirits go. Noa was sorely disappointed and somewhat furious when the creature returned, but the ghost did nothing, it merely watched with a dark glare.


Rua slept and slept, and would have continued to sleep much longer but the scent of cooking meat roused him. It smelled glorious. Slowly his hazel eyes opened, and for a few moments he just laid there. Taking stock of the jumper and worn blankets covering him, and the ghost that smiled almost darkly at him. Rua ignored Noa and yawned, raising his hands to rub at his eyes, he didn't raise his left very far, pain shot through his shoulder when he tried. Reminding him that he was injured.


The blonde grit his teeth and looked at the wound, remembering the events before he had fallen asleep. Then he noticed the sun was up, and the creature, resting next to the meat, and Rua's eyes roamed over it for a moment. Briefly wondering if that creature had gone out to hunt it, and wondering why the creature would even return. There was a frown on his lips as he eyed the creature, seeking out the injury he had caused it earlier, almost absently Rua pulled on that jumper gingerly and zipped it up. Slowly he crept closer to the creature, though occasionally he eyed that cooked meat, a bit more than half tempted to reach out and take it. Rather quickly he pushed up the sleeves of his 'new' jumper, exposing his arms.


Rua licked his lips hungrily as he eyed that meat, and he reached out, but not for the meat. He reached for the creature, gentle fingertips brushing against the arm he had wounded. Not touching the long but superficial wound, but gently touching around it. If nothing happened to stop him, his fingers would glow a bit, a gentle green, and a cold tingling would be felt. A gentle cold tingling, not unlike a sensation of new skin growing over the wound. Slowly the wound would begin to, not close up, but disappear, leaving unmarred flesh and fur in it's wake.


The blonde's body tensed, and with his left hand he would grip the creature's thigh for a bit of support, his breath hitching with a bit of pain as that wound would appear on his own forearm. He would then shakily pull his hands away, panting softly, and then pull down the sleeves of his jumper, and stare longingly at that cooked meat. Of course if the creature stopped him, none of that would happen.

 

[Qrow Branwen]

Clink. Clank. Bang. Boom. Smash. Bash.


Were just a few words associated with his kind's footsteps, the Big Daddy, this specific one had been exiled and had traveled into the town, his helmet's porthole glowed with a distinct blue. Sadness. He had lost all he knew and, sure, his old home underneath the waves wasn't perfect, at all, but it was his home, the Big Daddy looked around slowly, his drill revved slowly out of anger at himself and down it of self pity, he let out a whale like sound and just stood there, tired and sick of life, he simply stood there and waited...

 

[Best Trekkie.]

Meanwhile...


The wind buffeted gently against the helicopter as grayson piloted the craft across the city for a few miles. Peering through the plexi-glass, grayson saw  the hordes upon hordes of zombies that dotted the streets and proceeded to land the helicopter on a mountain side helipad, Opening the pilot side door he hopped out and made his way to the cargo lockers. Snatching five rifle magazines from the ammo locker and an M4 carbine from the other locker he made his way down the mountain side and towards the city that lie at the mountains base...

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


The smell of the meat cooking, its sizzling sounds were soothing. Birds further away started to sing again. The sun was warm and calming. However what struck him was that despite the distance, the scent of that kid had suddenly got stronger, and there was suddenly a light, cold touch to his arm. The slice hadn't really needed any attention. His muscles were barely even scratched, and it certainly hadn't been deep enough to be concerned by. His eyes opened, and watched the kid, focused as he was, on his task. He allowed him to continue, watching quietly. When the kid had finished, and grabbed his thigh for balance, he decided to make it obvious he'd been watching.


"Did it ever occur to djou zhat I may 'ave visshed to keep zhat shcar?" His tone was level, almost amused, as he held his arm up to inspect where the slice had been. "I guessh I'll 'ave to upshet djou again, sho I can get shomezhing to remember djou by." The smirk was obscured by his skull, but his eyes stated he was interested by this new development. Perhaps the Dark Master had just revealed his reason for dumping this kid on him. He idly scratched at the area that before had had the twitchy, prickly thin line. He watched the kid practically dribbling over his breakfast.


"Itsh for djou. Go a'ead." He picked up his own blade, and used it to slice off a slither of his own raw haunch. This kid certainly had an interesting power... the ability to take on an injury as though it was never there? "Djour power. Doesh it vork zhe ozher vay too?"

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth


Rua had thought the creature sleeping, though honestly it hadn't mattered if it were awake or not. It would not have changed the blonde's actions, though it was evident he had thought the creature to be asleep in the way he jumped when it spoke to him. Startlement flickering across his features for a moment as he looked from the cooked meat to the creature, then a frown appeared on his lips. "...I'm sorry.." He had lowered his head a bit as he whispered the apology. "I'm not worth remembering anyway." The frown had gone, and his voice was a bit stronger than a whisper, his gaze when he lifted it was challenging. As if daring the creature to disagree with him. Moments later those hazel eyes had settled on the meat again.


When the creature said it was for him, he hesitated, glancing at that creature almost for assurance, then he grabbed for the meat. Bringing it to his lips and tearing into it as best he could with his human teeth. He munched and chewed greedily. Devouring as much of it as he could as fast as he could. For a moment his eyes darted around the area they were in, before stopping on a spot some distance away and staring. Almost listening to something. A slightly exasperated sigh left him, and he slowed down a bit in his eating. That ghost had warned him against eating too much to fast, it wouldn't be good for the stomache.


Rua didn't respond immediately to the creature's question. Instead he concentrated on devouring that haunch of meat. It was so good. He wasn't sure when the last time he had eaten something warm and meaty. It didn't matter, and finally when he was perhaps half done with it, he lowered it from his lips. Hazel eyes stared fully at the creature. "It only works the one way. The result of my Father's experimentations, though he was aiming to achieve something far more different. I have always been a disappointment to that cretin." Rua shrugged, and winced slightly. That shoulder still hurt, and his jaw set in a tight line, his brow furrowed as he glared at the creature. "Though if you want a scar, I can certainly do my best to give you a nasty one." He glanced at the meat in his hands almost thoughtfully for a moment, it seemed like he might thank the creature for the meat, but instead Rua just shoved more of it into his mouth.


That ghost seethed. Glad that Rua had some meat to eat, but angry that the creature was still around.

 

[ZappiestAbyss]

Lucas peeked out from the corner, just to hear another shot go off and him to leap back behind the pillar. He looked at his spear and shook his head, he's not that accurate with it. Nor could he throw that far, the sniper had him pinned. 


Then the simulation stopped. Lucas woke up in the familiar 'bed' in the 'white room' as the doctors called it. As Lucas took off the headset and rubbed his eyes, a voice came over the speakers in the room. 


"Test subject Avogadro please remain calm, we are experiencing a- They're in! Oh fu-" There was a bang and clatter of a metal door being ripped off the hinges, then a scream, then finally a gun shot. Lucas's eyes widened in fear as the lights went off. However he knew that the electric locks on the door would be ineffective, his chance to escape was there. He slowly crept towards the door and opened it silently. The hallways were....clear? The exit was right there, just down the hall. Lucas wasted no time booking it down the hall when he stopped. The girl from one of the other cells....maybe she was alive. 


( @AmazedAngel wanna join?)

 

[AmazedAngel]

Ivory jolted, sitting up in her bed. Looking around the room, she glanced and nothing had changed, she thought and imagined she was able to be free.


A shot echoed through the halls, she cringed and hugged her knees to her chest. What was happening? Why were there gunshots? Her usual curious self was outweighed by the scary feeling that something was going to happen. Another experiment? 


She hears footsteps which reluctantly stopped. Someone is coming! She held her breath, moving to the corner of her cell and not to be seen. Ivory closed her eyes, please no more experiments, as she silently worded a prayer. 


[@ZappiestAbyss I have little to no idea what I'm doing. But ... Ta~da]

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry


The Collector stretched out his joints and spine, and raised his arms to settle behind his head, watching the kid devour the food. For such a little human, he must have an asbestos mouth!! Even the Collector was impressed when he just dove straight in. He listened to the kid quietly, and as the sun warmed his spot, he closed his eyes and continued to nod and hum at his story. A wry smile came over the scarred face beneath the skull mask, and he opened one eye, looking down on the little lad.


"Djou vant to give me a nashty shcar? I sshall look forvard to it!" His laugh was genuine, and he settled back again, letting the sun warm his tacky fur and skin. Once the blood from the muntjac was dry, it would flake off easier. No need to waste water. He shot up off his wall at that memory, and got to his feet, walking past the lad to where the bones of the beast sat upon the wall. Beside it, a little blood stained, the water skein he'd filled just for Rua. He picked it up, and shook off the majority of the excess blood. As he looked, he fancied some of the liver he had apportioned, and he took its slimy purple mass into his other hand, and returned to his seat. He held out the water, and took a large bite out of the liver. It's creamy texture made him hum in appreciation, and he happily settled back in his warm spot on the wall, his long tail twitching and waggling every now and then.


"It ish jusht vater. Drank from zhe shtream myshelf. Delishioush. Go a'ead. Ve sheem shtuck togezher at zhish time, ash my Dark Mashter commandsh." The Bone Collector finished the small portion of liver he had taken up, and slurped the last of it noisily, like a noodle,


into his mouth. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Djour power ish intereshting. Ve all know in zhish new vorld zhat people are not ash zhey vonshe vere; 'owever djou shay zhish vash done to djou?" He contemplated the word he had never used before. He tried to wrap his mouth around them, but it did not come easy.

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth


Rua was silent for the most part as he ate now, just concentrating on eating. When he finally stopped, almost all the meat had been picked clean of the bone. At least to the best of his ability to pick the bone clean. For the first time in a long time he felt full. Satisfied. The blonde contemplated the creature's question about a scar. He did want to hurt that creature, payback for the hurt it had caused him, his shoulder still ached and pained him after all. There were other minor aches here and there, from being tossed aside, but they were most likely nothing more than minor bruises. The cut on his forearm didn't count, he had done that to himself. Taking the wound from the creature, a frown on his lips as he lifted his hand and rested it over that forearm, it was itchy and tingly. He hated it.


The blonde pulled that sleeve back, the long cut looked much better than it had earlier. Nearly sealed over already. Clearly it was healing much faster than the boy's shoulder, than any other wound naturally would have on a human. He was scratching gently around it, to ease some of the itchiness from the rapid healing, as the creature moved. Walking off to grab something and coming back. Those hazel eyes blinked when the water skein was handed to him, and the frown fell from Rua's lips as he grasped the object with both hands. Holding it for a moment, watching the creature and then looking at the water skein before drinking deeply from it. He gulped at the water until he had to pause to take in a breath.


"...Thanks...for the food and water." A sour look crossed his face, as if he found it annoying to be thanking this creature for anything now. It passed quickly though and Rua shrugged, drinking more from the water skein before setting it gingerly aside for now. "My Father was a scientist. A researcher, a seeker of knowledge, an experimenter..." Another frown touched his lips. "Most of my life was spent living in an underground research facility...I never even knew there was a world up here until my brother and I escaped." Rua didn't know anything of the world before the apocalypse, how it used to be or any of that. He only knew how it was now.


"My Father was always taking blood samples from me for testing and injecting me with weird serums, they always made me feel strange, and he was always putting me to sleep to do things. Noa said Father would cut me open when I was asleep and perform some kind of surgery on my nerves.." That sour look was now on his face. "...I think that's why I like pain sometimes....I don't know what Father was trying to do, but the end result was clearly not what he had wanted." Rua grabbed that water skein again and drained it dry, when it was empty he turned it upside down and gave it a small shake with a pout on his face.

 

[Best Trekkie.]

Grayson sighed in disappointment when he fully searched and found nothing in another apartment block. The groaning of a zombie brought him back to reality, the rotten undead soldier was shambling slowly toward him when grayson switched to burst fire and swung the assault rifle around and aimed at the zombie's head. He fired and the first two of the total three shots killed the zombie instantly. Suddenly he turned around and killed another zombie that had been drawn to the previous shots. After this brief interruption, Grayson continued his way onwards towards the last location of his platoon's command center...

 

[Malhyanth]

((Not to be a downer on anyone's writing, but I'm not sure @7catsinatrenchcoat meant for this to be a zombie apocalypse; at least there has been no such mention so far. May be worth waiting for 7cats to return from camping before continuing with zombie storylines?))

 

[Best Trekkie.]

Oh... srry