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+---- Thread: EFFIGY / goldie's corpse (/showthread.php?tid=9844)
EFFIGY / goldie's corpse - beck. - 07-07-2019
[align=center]
[ tw for gore in second to last paragraph ]
Anger was truly a terrible thing. Yet it coursed through his replicated veins, blinding him, and guiding him to the island he once resided on. As much as he sought to deny his days spent sulking within the watery borders, Beck still returned nevertheless. Not with his fellow tanglers, however. They were here for a party. "The Festival of Colors" as the note read. The little ghost limped across the shore with a different purpose in mind. Everyone would be distracted by the carnival and its festivities, intoxicating themselves without a care in the world. Even still, Beck stalled until long after the sun had set and his peers departed to their ally's territory to ensure his plans wouldn't be spoiled. Although he left no scent and could easily disappear into thin air the moment he sensed another presence, he continuously looked over his shoulder, paranoia sinking its claws into his thoughts. What would he do if he was caught? Beck sucked in a sharp inhale where it rasped and caught in his failing lungs. Calm down. He's done this so many times before, why was he doubting himself now?
Traversing the jungle wasn't too different from lurking around in his old forest. He kept his footsteps silent, picking his way over the undergrowth to avoid disturbing the jungle floor. From afar he could hear the celebration underway if he strained his ears enough, which encouraged him to press on. He didn't know the Typhoon to have a cemetery or any sort of burial ground. In the worst case scenario, the pirate captain's previous body rotted at the bottom of the bay.
"It'd be nice if ya helped me for once, Bael," he murmured as he crept, scanning the ground for any signs of upturned earth or insect activity. No voice answered his hesitant plea, much to his dismay. The entity attached to him since his first days trapped in a suspended death wasn't much for conversations, despite the occasional quip or jeer piercing his mind every once in a while. Beck lowered his head in an irritated sigh, pausing his search to flex his outstretched claws into the jungle soil.
A fallen branch audibly splintered beneath frightening weight not too far ahead -- likewise, his attention snapped upward in a panic, frantically glancing for the culprit... only for his eyes to stretch wide in sheer horror. Further along the tenebrous path, a towering silhouette returned his stare, hollowed eye sockets rooting Beck in place as the monstrous elk stepped away from the broken tree limb. The figure was hideous; jagged antlers coiled around mangled ears to form a thorny crown, its infested pelt scattered maggots with every creak of its spindly legs, and split hooves barely disturbed the grass as it closed the distance between it and the spirits that had been its parasite for far too long. Beck remained paralyzed, fixated on the lord before him. The archaic entity halted inches away from the scrawny cat, tipping its head to look upon the poltergeist with animosity in its rotten face. The decayed elk bitterly snorted before facing south and breaking into a stride. Beck numbly trailed after the visitant, locked in a daze as he shambled through the jungle.
By the time the elk guiding him abruptly stopped, only an empty expression on Beck's face lingered. He could register his surroundings as a clearing, a clearing once engulfed in a blinding red, crackling and screaming as its foliage burned. Yet his vision focused on a flowering bush, sheltering the remains he sought. The elk's eyeless gaze scorched his wounded back as he dragged Goldie's charred corpse from the leaves. Fire saved her vessel from the messy state of decomposition, her cold skin leathery and hairless. Beck caressed the cadaver's blackened cheek, allowing his forehead to connect with hers after so many months apart. The reunion couldn't last long, however. Beck pulled away from his old friend, eyes filmy with unspilled tears. He didn't want to, he couldn't -- the boy looked up to see the elk looming above him, its disorientating presence darkening the entire clearing. You know what you have to do. Bael's velvety yet oh-so sickening voice echoed in his skull, even while the decomposing stag neglected to pry open its mouth. All emotion drained from his scarred face with the simple command, lifeless eyes glazing over in a trance all too familiar to him. He withdrew the nondescript dagger responsible for countless bloodshed, sharpened steel glinting in the moonlight as he secured the handle in his awkward grip before stabbing the blade into the corpse's neck. The first of many frenzied cuts as he began his work.
Morning would stir the band of pirates, eyelids fluttering away sleep and a possible hangover. With dawn's light unfurling across the island, the aftermath of a trespasser was illuminated for all to gawk at near the bay, the stench of rot mingling with the salty breeze. The dangling remnants of their captain's previous body were strung between two palm trees by tightened wire around charred wrists, nearly mutilated beyond recognition. Naturally-preserved innards could be seen poking through the multiple deep gashes inflicted on her flanks, while her forepaws were entirely severed and nowhere to be found. Her chest had been clawed into, ribs engraved with evidence of a knife attempting to saw through bone and heart hanging by sinew outside its protective layers. Yet most glaringly, her head happened to be completely missing as well, hacked off in a rage by a blade not designed for slicing through denser tissue. Both her trachea and esophagus, along with other structures, would have been exposed, if not for the disembodied hog's head perched daintily upon the stump of a neck remaining. Compared to the scorched body, the head was alarmingly fresh, gnarled tusks still bared in rage and warm blood still dripping down its new host.
Despite the body's disfigurement, a message for Goldenluxury herself was legible on its belly, sloppily carved and shallow. Miss me?
Anger was truly a terrible thing. Yet it coursed through his replicated veins, blinding him, and guiding him to the island he once resided on. As much as he sought to deny his days spent sulking within the watery borders, Beck still returned nevertheless. Not with his fellow tanglers, however. They were here for a party. "The Festival of Colors" as the note read. The little ghost limped across the shore with a different purpose in mind. Everyone would be distracted by the carnival and its festivities, intoxicating themselves without a care in the world. Even still, Beck stalled until long after the sun had set and his peers departed to their ally's territory to ensure his plans wouldn't be spoiled. Although he left no scent and could easily disappear into thin air the moment he sensed another presence, he continuously looked over his shoulder, paranoia sinking its claws into his thoughts. What would he do if he was caught? Beck sucked in a sharp inhale where it rasped and caught in his failing lungs. Calm down. He's done this so many times before, why was he doubting himself now?
Traversing the jungle wasn't too different from lurking around in his old forest. He kept his footsteps silent, picking his way over the undergrowth to avoid disturbing the jungle floor. From afar he could hear the celebration underway if he strained his ears enough, which encouraged him to press on. He didn't know the Typhoon to have a cemetery or any sort of burial ground. In the worst case scenario, the pirate captain's previous body rotted at the bottom of the bay.
"It'd be nice if ya helped me for once, Bael," he murmured as he crept, scanning the ground for any signs of upturned earth or insect activity. No voice answered his hesitant plea, much to his dismay. The entity attached to him since his first days trapped in a suspended death wasn't much for conversations, despite the occasional quip or jeer piercing his mind every once in a while. Beck lowered his head in an irritated sigh, pausing his search to flex his outstretched claws into the jungle soil.
A fallen branch audibly splintered beneath frightening weight not too far ahead -- likewise, his attention snapped upward in a panic, frantically glancing for the culprit... only for his eyes to stretch wide in sheer horror. Further along the tenebrous path, a towering silhouette returned his stare, hollowed eye sockets rooting Beck in place as the monstrous elk stepped away from the broken tree limb. The figure was hideous; jagged antlers coiled around mangled ears to form a thorny crown, its infested pelt scattered maggots with every creak of its spindly legs, and split hooves barely disturbed the grass as it closed the distance between it and the spirits that had been its parasite for far too long. Beck remained paralyzed, fixated on the lord before him. The archaic entity halted inches away from the scrawny cat, tipping its head to look upon the poltergeist with animosity in its rotten face. The decayed elk bitterly snorted before facing south and breaking into a stride. Beck numbly trailed after the visitant, locked in a daze as he shambled through the jungle.
By the time the elk guiding him abruptly stopped, only an empty expression on Beck's face lingered. He could register his surroundings as a clearing, a clearing once engulfed in a blinding red, crackling and screaming as its foliage burned. Yet his vision focused on a flowering bush, sheltering the remains he sought. The elk's eyeless gaze scorched his wounded back as he dragged Goldie's charred corpse from the leaves. Fire saved her vessel from the messy state of decomposition, her cold skin leathery and hairless. Beck caressed the cadaver's blackened cheek, allowing his forehead to connect with hers after so many months apart. The reunion couldn't last long, however. Beck pulled away from his old friend, eyes filmy with unspilled tears. He didn't want to, he couldn't -- the boy looked up to see the elk looming above him, its disorientating presence darkening the entire clearing. You know what you have to do. Bael's velvety yet oh-so sickening voice echoed in his skull, even while the decomposing stag neglected to pry open its mouth. All emotion drained from his scarred face with the simple command, lifeless eyes glazing over in a trance all too familiar to him. He withdrew the nondescript dagger responsible for countless bloodshed, sharpened steel glinting in the moonlight as he secured the handle in his awkward grip before stabbing the blade into the corpse's neck. The first of many frenzied cuts as he began his work.
Morning would stir the band of pirates, eyelids fluttering away sleep and a possible hangover. With dawn's light unfurling across the island, the aftermath of a trespasser was illuminated for all to gawk at near the bay, the stench of rot mingling with the salty breeze. The dangling remnants of their captain's previous body were strung between two palm trees by tightened wire around charred wrists, nearly mutilated beyond recognition. Naturally-preserved innards could be seen poking through the multiple deep gashes inflicted on her flanks, while her forepaws were entirely severed and nowhere to be found. Her chest had been clawed into, ribs engraved with evidence of a knife attempting to saw through bone and heart hanging by sinew outside its protective layers. Yet most glaringly, her head happened to be completely missing as well, hacked off in a rage by a blade not designed for slicing through denser tissue. Both her trachea and esophagus, along with other structures, would have been exposed, if not for the disembodied hog's head perched daintily upon the stump of a neck remaining. Compared to the scorched body, the head was alarmingly fresh, gnarled tusks still bared in rage and warm blood still dripping down its new host.
Despite the body's disfigurement, a message for Goldenluxury herself was legible on its belly, sloppily carved and shallow. Miss me?
Re: EFFIGY / goldie's corpse - bubblegum - 07-07-2019
I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS A MOONLIT SEA
THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME
BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
BEWARE, BEWARE OF ME.
[align=center]"You little whore!" A stranger had once said to a young bengal cat.
"Do it again, bitch.
Try me.
You won't see your family ever again.
They'd be strung up on a tree! In little pieces!
You hear me, little rat? Dead. Bleeding,
strung up in cut up pieces,
dead eyes staring at you!"
Dead, bleeding, strung up in cut up pieces, but no eyes to be found. Yet. Perhaps they've caught onto her mark and thought it'd be clever to replicate it. It's too bad they were too cowardly to find her living, breathing body and try it. She wouldn't mind having some more fun after the festival.
Though, now she looks closer, it seems there is no head at all.
She would not recognize the body as her own immediately - maybe not for a while, even, but she still held a sort of disgusted, bewildered expression towards the scene that lay before her, less so focused on who the victim was and more so of what it was she was looking at. Would a childhood fear be awoken from this? Not immediately. Right away, she found herself more concerned about the gross smell and appearance of it all. Whoever had done this got zero points for presentation. At first, maybe it could have been passed off for some weird birds, monkeys, or whatever else decided to fuck with shit in the jungle. It was messy enough to be. But, the more she looked at it, the more it seemed to be deliberate, and then she sees something. Writing. "The fuck?"
The golden tiger takes a few moments to look over it, processing the sloppy words - just two of them.
Miss me?
Almost instantaneously, her feathery fur springs upward, a chill racing through her body. Where is he? The captain begins to look around frantically, baring her teeth. How could he step into this territory and get away with it? To the tiger now, there is unlikely to be any other creature to match this with other than Decius himself. He is trying to toy with her again, and she is not a tiny little girl anymore. Goldenluxury lets out angered growls. "Has anyone seen a masked wolf?" she demands. Loudly, sharply. The female kicks the sand up with her now extended wings, moving into the air to try and scout her surroundings. That fear was nowhere to be found anymore. Just anger.
Though there's no scent other than Tanglewood - from their own festival, she already knows, and the usual fish (and now, of course, the rot), she finds no other explanation to make sense. The Pittians would not go to this length to make her uncomfortable. They'd just face her or her crewmates head on (or at least return the favor of burnt territories, if they were even able to get that far). She had no other direct, personal enemies, and found it unlikely someone would try to stir shit up like this. He told her - flat-out - that this was his intentions if she were to declare his identity, his crimes. But, there was no family here, other than her crew, for him to string up. It could not be anyone else, the possibilities were just too low to believe it.
"One mus' jus' be obsessed wit' me."
And, frankly, she will happily return the favor to him.
"Do it again, bitch.
Try me.
You won't see your family ever again.
They'd be strung up on a tree! In little pieces!
You hear me, little rat? Dead. Bleeding,
strung up in cut up pieces,
dead eyes staring at you!"
Dead, bleeding, strung up in cut up pieces, but no eyes to be found. Yet. Perhaps they've caught onto her mark and thought it'd be clever to replicate it. It's too bad they were too cowardly to find her living, breathing body and try it. She wouldn't mind having some more fun after the festival.
Though, now she looks closer, it seems there is no head at all.
She would not recognize the body as her own immediately - maybe not for a while, even, but she still held a sort of disgusted, bewildered expression towards the scene that lay before her, less so focused on who the victim was and more so of what it was she was looking at. Would a childhood fear be awoken from this? Not immediately. Right away, she found herself more concerned about the gross smell and appearance of it all. Whoever had done this got zero points for presentation. At first, maybe it could have been passed off for some weird birds, monkeys, or whatever else decided to fuck with shit in the jungle. It was messy enough to be. But, the more she looked at it, the more it seemed to be deliberate, and then she sees something. Writing. "The fuck?"
The golden tiger takes a few moments to look over it, processing the sloppy words - just two of them.
Miss me?
Almost instantaneously, her feathery fur springs upward, a chill racing through her body. Where is he? The captain begins to look around frantically, baring her teeth. How could he step into this territory and get away with it? To the tiger now, there is unlikely to be any other creature to match this with other than Decius himself. He is trying to toy with her again, and she is not a tiny little girl anymore. Goldenluxury lets out angered growls. "Has anyone seen a masked wolf?" she demands. Loudly, sharply. The female kicks the sand up with her now extended wings, moving into the air to try and scout her surroundings. That fear was nowhere to be found anymore. Just anger.
Though there's no scent other than Tanglewood - from their own festival, she already knows, and the usual fish (and now, of course, the rot), she finds no other explanation to make sense. The Pittians would not go to this length to make her uncomfortable. They'd just face her or her crewmates head on (or at least return the favor of burnt territories, if they were even able to get that far). She had no other direct, personal enemies, and found it unlikely someone would try to stir shit up like this. He told her - flat-out - that this was his intentions if she were to declare his identity, his crimes. But, there was no family here, other than her crew, for him to string up. It could not be anyone else, the possibilities were just too low to believe it.
"One mus' jus' be obsessed wit' me."
And, frankly, she will happily return the favor to him.
Re: EFFIGY / goldie's corpse - idyllfields - 07-21-2019
idyllfields
stars did fall
idyllfields never was quite the nightly person. they much preferred the sunlight on their back while they succeeded in their duties as a sage. that wasn't to say that the occasional nightly walk was out of the question. the coyote was feeling nostalgic that particular night as they had passed by their bookshelf. an old book that father jamison had lent to them had stuck out earlier that afternoon and, while the search for their father was on hold, they still wanted to take a moment to think of him.
the stars had been the main focus of the book, thus idyllfields spent the night with their gaze to the sky. their direction was mostly autopilot as they focused on identifying the constellations above. hercules was the most visible this month along with draco. while their legs moved for them across the territory, they had little awareness of their surroundings. it wasn't until the odd scent of tanglewood had stopped them. idyll looked away from the stars to see a tall figure in front of them paired with a cat and... ugh
idyllfields crouched down and covered their nose as the scent of the burnt corpse touched their nose. they stumbled out closer to beck, nose scrunched. "what is that? it smells awful." idyll choked out, a grimace stuck to their face. there wasn't much of a response given, unfortunately. idyll had been met with silence... then nothing. their scent all but lingered on the scene but nowhere to be found.
the stars had been the main focus of the book, thus idyllfields spent the night with their gaze to the sky. their direction was mostly autopilot as they focused on identifying the constellations above. hercules was the most visible this month along with draco. while their legs moved for them across the territory, they had little awareness of their surroundings. it wasn't until the odd scent of tanglewood had stopped them. idyll looked away from the stars to see a tall figure in front of them paired with a cat and... ugh
idyllfields crouched down and covered their nose as the scent of the burnt corpse touched their nose. they stumbled out closer to beck, nose scrunched. "what is that? it smells awful." idyll choked out, a grimace stuck to their face. there wasn't much of a response given, unfortunately. idyll had been met with silence... then nothing. their scent all but lingered on the scene but nowhere to be found.