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+---- Thread: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm (/showthread.php?tid=12026)
THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - deimos - 06-07-2020
While the meteors had been nice, the crashing- no, the utter destruction that the meteor had caused send pin needles up and down Piers' body. It had caused him to shoot up from where he lay- in front of the greenhouse- and dash towards the nearest person. However, he didn't make it far. The shaking, the bitter tremors of the earth caused him to sway on his paws. Fearfully, he looked back towards the greenhouse, shuddering and shaking, before looking back forward. It wasn't his place to give orders. But the wrenching, gut feeling inside of him felt something terribly and utterly wrong.
The wind had begun to pick up, out over the desert. Swirling about in the air, the sands of the desert slowly started to pick up by the wind. It was a harsh, bitter thing to peer upon, for the terror it was about to cause would be known to the Pitt. And, of course, those winds pushed the sand, the dirt, towards where most of the Pittians had been laying out observing the stars.
Piers' eyes, deep ocean blue- what a contrast against the dull, ugly orange of the sand- caught sight of the tide of the sandstorm starting to roll closer. His breath caught, before he climbed up onto one of the many stones by the temples. And, with that, he cried out. "WE NEED TO GET TO SHELTER! THE CAVES!" Yes, the caves. Piers' eyes turned, looking towards the nearest entrance to the caves. If they stayed away from the entrance, everyone would be safe. Hopefully everyone fit. But being in the desert? That put them in a bad vantage point.
He looked back up, and the duststorm was crawling closer. Once it was upon them, Piers knew- books were helpful for this reason- that their eyes would be scathed, their skin rubbed raw and their entire disposition threw off. Speaking and breathing was nigh impossible without cloth covering their mouth.
"SPEECH"
The wind had begun to pick up, out over the desert. Swirling about in the air, the sands of the desert slowly started to pick up by the wind. It was a harsh, bitter thing to peer upon, for the terror it was about to cause would be known to the Pitt. And, of course, those winds pushed the sand, the dirt, towards where most of the Pittians had been laying out observing the stars.
Piers' eyes, deep ocean blue- what a contrast against the dull, ugly orange of the sand- caught sight of the tide of the sandstorm starting to roll closer. His breath caught, before he climbed up onto one of the many stones by the temples. And, with that, he cried out. "WE NEED TO GET TO SHELTER! THE CAVES!" Yes, the caves. Piers' eyes turned, looking towards the nearest entrance to the caves. If they stayed away from the entrance, everyone would be safe. Hopefully everyone fit. But being in the desert? That put them in a bad vantage point.
He looked back up, and the duststorm was crawling closer. Once it was upon them, Piers knew- books were helpful for this reason- that their eyes would be scathed, their skin rubbed raw and their entire disposition threw off. Speaking and breathing was nigh impossible without cloth covering their mouth.
"SPEECH"
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - Luciferr - 06-11-2020
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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it
but you are welcome in it
the creature had noticed the slow to fast crawl of the orange tide before them, but it hardly seemed to find itself phased.
It had weathered sand storms before - and while it had taken them an considerable amount of time to ‘heal’ itself, it had no ‘eyes’ to scour and it’s strange rotting carapace skins seemed to hold it own ground.
It did not delight in the idea of sand stuck in various crevices however, so that finally moved it to stand on all eight feet and make its way toward where piers pointed, its rib-jaw hanging partially open as tentacles churned inside
Hm, maybe it would have to act as carriage to the smaller members it saw stumbling to get away on too short legs,
A shame it couldn’t simply eat them,
It had weathered sand storms before - and while it had taken them an considerable amount of time to ‘heal’ itself, it had no ‘eyes’ to scour and it’s strange rotting carapace skins seemed to hold it own ground.
It did not delight in the idea of sand stuck in various crevices however, so that finally moved it to stand on all eight feet and make its way toward where piers pointed, its rib-jaw hanging partially open as tentacles churned inside
Hm, maybe it would have to act as carriage to the smaller members it saw stumbling to get away on too short legs,
A shame it couldn’t simply eat them,
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - Atticus Roux - 06-12-2020
The world never stopped in it's tracks, did it? Every turn was another burden for Atticus Roux. From his brother disappearing, his mother being killed during an earthquake, and his other brother turning on him, it seemed like it couldn't get any worse... but it was going to get nasty. There was no rest for the wicked, nor the innocent. Yet the tabby held his hopes high, wishing for more than damnation. Even so, the world continued to throw down.
As he wandered the desert without a goal in mind, the wind began to brush against his fur. It began slow. Every now and then, it'd increase and he'd almost fall to his feet in surprise. Suddenly, one final blow pushed him down. As the gusts picked up, the kitten shifted to look behind him. Amber eyes widened. A haze of particulars swarmed hundreds of feet behind him, ready to run him dry. The boy shuffled to his feet urgently. Small legs hustled forward, frustratingly losing grip on loose sand. Pier's voice echoed from afar, shifting his attention away from the jungle. He only spotted the jaguar in the distance and Silentgrave currently, but he thought he could make it. Doubtful.
Atticus rushed behind the tendril-lined being, following them to the cave's entrance. He tried to yell out, but the dust had already ran rampant in his throat. Choking on his words, he wildly gestured forward. It wasn't like he could do much else besides run and gesture anyways.
As he wandered the desert without a goal in mind, the wind began to brush against his fur. It began slow. Every now and then, it'd increase and he'd almost fall to his feet in surprise. Suddenly, one final blow pushed him down. As the gusts picked up, the kitten shifted to look behind him. Amber eyes widened. A haze of particulars swarmed hundreds of feet behind him, ready to run him dry. The boy shuffled to his feet urgently. Small legs hustled forward, frustratingly losing grip on loose sand. Pier's voice echoed from afar, shifting his attention away from the jungle. He only spotted the jaguar in the distance and Silentgrave currently, but he thought he could make it. Doubtful.
Atticus rushed behind the tendril-lined being, following them to the cave's entrance. He tried to yell out, but the dust had already ran rampant in his throat. Choking on his words, he wildly gestured forward. It wasn't like he could do much else besides run and gesture anyways.
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - Luciferr - 06-13-2020
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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it
but you are welcome in it
it was his unhurried pace and generally still standing figure despite the winds picking up more and more that left him the lone monolith moving steadily towards the caves,
It was also why he felt the wild flailing of one of said smaller members of their grave,
The neck cracked as the head swung to glimpse the roux before he halted enough for the smaller to likely pass under him,
Well then,
Ribbed jaws yawned wide and tentacles squirmed out of the horror - aiming to suddenly surge forward and wrap around [member=11957]Atticus Roux[/member] and heft the smaller being into the ‘safety’ of his carcass - for all that one could term it safe, disgusting and horrific as the thing entire was - being inside it would be no better (nay perhaps worse)
Still if it was a successful grab, the beast of horrors untold would pick up its pace to a light eight limbed jog towards the caves - if only because any squirming would make him...hungrier - and this was one he could not eat, sadly.
It was also why he felt the wild flailing of one of said smaller members of their grave,
The neck cracked as the head swung to glimpse the roux before he halted enough for the smaller to likely pass under him,
Well then,
Ribbed jaws yawned wide and tentacles squirmed out of the horror - aiming to suddenly surge forward and wrap around [member=11957]Atticus Roux[/member] and heft the smaller being into the ‘safety’ of his carcass - for all that one could term it safe, disgusting and horrific as the thing entire was - being inside it would be no better (nay perhaps worse)
Still if it was a successful grab, the beast of horrors untold would pick up its pace to a light eight limbed jog towards the caves - if only because any squirming would make him...hungrier - and this was one he could not eat, sadly.
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - Atticus Roux - 06-14-2020
In a sudden change, Atticus felt himself float upwards. Paws flailed wildly throughout the air. The kitten looked down and noticed dark tendrils encircling him, causing him to let out a yowl. "HEY!" he spat. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Despite wiggling and writhing in Silentgrave's firm grip, the boy did not manage to escape. Panicking, he let out a growl but he was soon silenced. Amber eyes widened as he fell into the darkness of Silentgrave's many tendrils and strange mouth. Unsheathed claws attempted to grab onto whatever he could during his blind encounter, raking his claws at unknown parts vigorously.
Succumbing to the shadows of Silentgrave's mouth would not come so easy for the eccentric Atticus Roux.
Succumbing to the shadows of Silentgrave's mouth would not come so easy for the eccentric Atticus Roux.
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - Luciferr - 06-16-2020
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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it
but you are welcome in it
the thing did not register pain, but it registered the sensation of squirming and small claws in the semi detached way one would view from outside in,
It did not hurt it,
But it did make them...hungrier
Multiple tentacles would attempt to restrain [member=11957]Atticus Roux[/member] before they spoke - and to the inside slimy dark confines no doubt sounded like it came from everywhere (and perhaps it did...this corpse made of corpses)
”cease your squirming...we go to shelter...you are safe within our grasp” there was a curious impression on safe, as though it meant something different but couldn’t act upon it, for the Pitt were not food
For now anyway,
Silent’s steady tread continued in its uppicked pace, nearing the cave entrances now.
It did not hurt it,
But it did make them...hungrier
Multiple tentacles would attempt to restrain [member=11957]Atticus Roux[/member] before they spoke - and to the inside slimy dark confines no doubt sounded like it came from everywhere (and perhaps it did...this corpse made of corpses)
”cease your squirming...we go to shelter...you are safe within our grasp” there was a curious impression on safe, as though it meant something different but couldn’t act upon it, for the Pitt were not food
For now anyway,
Silent’s steady tread continued in its uppicked pace, nearing the cave entrances now.
Re: THE CRASHING TIDE- duststorm - DIRT - 06-21-2020
cw: parasites & gore
As the dust storm creeped closer, as another cried out to seek shelter, Dirt had followed suit, silent as a lamb. The dust had begun to pick up, making it hard to see without getting the grit in his eyes, let alone speak, without feeling it between his yellowed teeth. He simply followed the crowd, feeling the sand seep into the welts and wounds that the parasites in his skin left on him, feeling the sand rub and scrape against very alive little monsters and seemed fit to burrow deeper into his frame. He snarled, low in his throat, feeling a thousand tiny teeth setting into his sore flesh, pushing himself ever harder and further to find shelter.
The caves were soon in sight, and the great beast was nearly out of breath, the sand having dried out his tongue and throat as he'd tried to pant. He had lost some fur on his back and legs from the coarse winds, and the tips of his ears and nose had been rubbed raw. His body ached all over, from the onslaught of harsh sand and the parasites that called it home collectively seeking shelter.
Dirt had shuffled quickly into the nearest cave, heading as deep within its safety as he could, wheezing and coughing up great globs of grit and sand that had stuck to his throat. He laid down, growling softly, curling up alone. Bright orange eyes watching, waiting for the storm to pass.