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+---- Thread: NOW ITS ROTTEN | CORPSEs, TW GORE (/showthread.php?tid=9890)
NOW ITS ROTTEN | CORPSEs, TW GORE - Sorrel - 07-24-2019
[glow=#000,1,400]I'M A WOLF IN SHEEPS CLOTHING — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
(Please note that there is scent of Tanglewood, and Anti has carved his name into the corpses. But, he is no longer on the scene and has teleported away. No one could have seen him in the act.)
He had removed the itch. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and allowed him to relax a little bit. However, his job wasn't exactly done just yet and he had plenty to keep himself busy. This did not mean he didn't have any sort of patience. He was a patient man after all, and could always wait for his plan to come into action. He could easily work behind the scene and cause some chaos here and there, but that meant that these clans or tribes wouldn't recognize his name and realize how much of a threat he was to everyone that he came across. He wasn't going to kill everyone that he came across, as that would be a waste of his time. He needed animals alive so that they could spread the word of his name. Simply saying his name, in general, gave him a small flux of power through his body, and the more that people talked about him the stronger he would become. Recognition was how he acquired his powers, and it was a slow road if there was no one around to see his handiwork. He wanted other people to come looking for him, whether it was out of revenge or simply trying to acquire justice for the horrible deeds that he had done. As far as he was concerned, he knew nothing about these places or even their names for that manner.
All that he knew was that he was going to go to place to place and leave his mark. If he could rough up some people along the way then he was going to do exactly that. Combat wasn't his complete specialty, but he was good enough at it to make him somewhat of a threat. Especially with all the different powers, he had acquired from dealing with the previous groups that he had dealt with. He had even killed some important names over there, but now the excitement of going toward a blank slate where no one had control over him was too good to pass up. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ used to be tied to a specific person, and it was only recently that he had managed to sever that connection. This meant that if his creator came around this time around, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would show no mercy and potentially kill him on the spot now that he could not be controlled. The glitch was a threat as the more trouble he got in the stronger he got. He was amazing with twisting his words so that he would be able to gain the upper hand in a situation. He was crafty and manipulative. Whether it was because of his silver tongue or the mental manipulation he had, he could make even the strong-minded bend to his will. Seeing his victims struggle was one of the best parts of going out and exploring.
Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had decided that he was just going to walk around till he came across a territory marker. He could easily play the card and say that he didn't know anything about how clans worked or who they were allied with. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ didn't even know the name of the group that he had recently visited in, not like it really mattered to him. He just had to have a base of operations, and if they kicked him out he would just go somewhere else. The hard part was that he couldn't disguise himself in any way unless he got stronger enough to inhabit a larger body. That point was far off, so he needed to buy himself a little bit of time. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had to admit that the place that he was at was certainly beautiful in its own way. He wasn't that much of a fan of sand, but the massive tropical island was certainly entertaining, to say the least. He was a jaguar after all, and they lived in jungles if he remembered correctly. Dusk started to spread across the sky by the time he was done with his task. He needed to get his name out there somewhere, and committing murder in this world seemed to be the quickest way to do it. The glitch stood over two corpses, one that was similar in size to him, and another one smaller. A jaguar that had a regular golden pattern, then a melanistic serval. Indeed, they were both from the Typhoon and carried their scent. The jaguar had taken Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑'s interest simply because he had started to get hungry, and after the previous fight with a griffon, he felt like he was due to treat himself a little bit. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ didn't assassinate the two Typhooners, and instead were allowed to scream as they were attacked. He knew it was only going to be a matter of time before the cavalry arrived, but he kept track of those that were approaching using his enhanced senses. In the meantime, the melanistic jaguar crouched down, making sure the wound that was on his neck didn't touch the corpse and sank his fangs into the shoulder of the dead jaguar. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ needed to clench his jaws several times to allow his incisors to rip through the warm flesh of the dead animal. Once he had a strong grip, the glitch would rip the piece of meat off of the shoulder. The chunk was just the right size for him to swallow. It didn't really taste all that different, but he knew the stigma behind cannibalism from experience. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ felt it slide down his throat, and he ran his radioactive green tongue across his blood-stained lips.
He quickly took another chunk from the throat of the dead Typhooner, before getting back to work mangling the bodies. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had a kitchen knife that was laying on the ground next to his paws, and using his telekinesis and air elementals, he began to go to work on the jaguar's body first. He made an incision on the chest of the animal along the sternum. Using his paws he flipped the body onto its back, before getting on top of it. From there, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would conjure up a sledgehammer well above the partially eaten jaguar, before dropping it onto the animal's sternum. The sound of bone breaking was music to his ears as he cracked opened the creature's chest using his tools. He conjured the sledgehammer away and began to use his two bloodied front paws to spread open the jaguar's rib cage, exposing the lungs and heart underneath. Without needing his knife, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ clawed out the two important organs. The guy wouldn't be needing them anyway. Tossing the organs into the ocean nearby for someone to find, he turned his attention toward the serval on the ground. A childish giggle would escape his jaws as he moved the corpse over, trying to figure out what to do with this one. Lifting the kitchen knife with telekinesis, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ sliced off the serval's beautiful ears, tossing them across the ground. The kitchen knife disappeared, and instead a large meat clever replaced it. Grabbing the object in his jaws and pinning the corpse down with his paws, he slammed the clever down onto the throat of the dead serval. It took more than one hit for him to actually take the animal's head off. Once that was done, he grabbed the servals head in his jaws and positioned it in the jaguar's chest where its heart used to be. The black jaguar tilted its head as it looked at its work, before nodding approvingly. That should be good enough to get the point across. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would leave the meat clever where it was, and the same went with the serval body. Using his claws, he carved in his name in each body for everyone to see. He wanted creatures to come after him. He wanted to see them try. To see the hope that they could avenge their fallen comrades. Only to fail and watch their hope slowly leave their eyes as he killed them. Flicking his paws, he splattered blood across the grass and sand. His heterochromatic eyes shinned in the low light, and all that was heard was a last childish giggle as the figure disappeared.
He had removed the itch. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and allowed him to relax a little bit. However, his job wasn't exactly done just yet and he had plenty to keep himself busy. This did not mean he didn't have any sort of patience. He was a patient man after all, and could always wait for his plan to come into action. He could easily work behind the scene and cause some chaos here and there, but that meant that these clans or tribes wouldn't recognize his name and realize how much of a threat he was to everyone that he came across. He wasn't going to kill everyone that he came across, as that would be a waste of his time. He needed animals alive so that they could spread the word of his name. Simply saying his name, in general, gave him a small flux of power through his body, and the more that people talked about him the stronger he would become. Recognition was how he acquired his powers, and it was a slow road if there was no one around to see his handiwork. He wanted other people to come looking for him, whether it was out of revenge or simply trying to acquire justice for the horrible deeds that he had done. As far as he was concerned, he knew nothing about these places or even their names for that manner.
All that he knew was that he was going to go to place to place and leave his mark. If he could rough up some people along the way then he was going to do exactly that. Combat wasn't his complete specialty, but he was good enough at it to make him somewhat of a threat. Especially with all the different powers, he had acquired from dealing with the previous groups that he had dealt with. He had even killed some important names over there, but now the excitement of going toward a blank slate where no one had control over him was too good to pass up. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ used to be tied to a specific person, and it was only recently that he had managed to sever that connection. This meant that if his creator came around this time around, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would show no mercy and potentially kill him on the spot now that he could not be controlled. The glitch was a threat as the more trouble he got in the stronger he got. He was amazing with twisting his words so that he would be able to gain the upper hand in a situation. He was crafty and manipulative. Whether it was because of his silver tongue or the mental manipulation he had, he could make even the strong-minded bend to his will. Seeing his victims struggle was one of the best parts of going out and exploring.
Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had decided that he was just going to walk around till he came across a territory marker. He could easily play the card and say that he didn't know anything about how clans worked or who they were allied with. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ didn't even know the name of the group that he had recently visited in, not like it really mattered to him. He just had to have a base of operations, and if they kicked him out he would just go somewhere else. The hard part was that he couldn't disguise himself in any way unless he got stronger enough to inhabit a larger body. That point was far off, so he needed to buy himself a little bit of time. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had to admit that the place that he was at was certainly beautiful in its own way. He wasn't that much of a fan of sand, but the massive tropical island was certainly entertaining, to say the least. He was a jaguar after all, and they lived in jungles if he remembered correctly. Dusk started to spread across the sky by the time he was done with his task. He needed to get his name out there somewhere, and committing murder in this world seemed to be the quickest way to do it. The glitch stood over two corpses, one that was similar in size to him, and another one smaller. A jaguar that had a regular golden pattern, then a melanistic serval. Indeed, they were both from the Typhoon and carried their scent. The jaguar had taken Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑'s interest simply because he had started to get hungry, and after the previous fight with a griffon, he felt like he was due to treat himself a little bit. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ didn't assassinate the two Typhooners, and instead were allowed to scream as they were attacked. He knew it was only going to be a matter of time before the cavalry arrived, but he kept track of those that were approaching using his enhanced senses. In the meantime, the melanistic jaguar crouched down, making sure the wound that was on his neck didn't touch the corpse and sank his fangs into the shoulder of the dead jaguar. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ needed to clench his jaws several times to allow his incisors to rip through the warm flesh of the dead animal. Once he had a strong grip, the glitch would rip the piece of meat off of the shoulder. The chunk was just the right size for him to swallow. It didn't really taste all that different, but he knew the stigma behind cannibalism from experience. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ felt it slide down his throat, and he ran his radioactive green tongue across his blood-stained lips.
He quickly took another chunk from the throat of the dead Typhooner, before getting back to work mangling the bodies. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ had a kitchen knife that was laying on the ground next to his paws, and using his telekinesis and air elementals, he began to go to work on the jaguar's body first. He made an incision on the chest of the animal along the sternum. Using his paws he flipped the body onto its back, before getting on top of it. From there, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would conjure up a sledgehammer well above the partially eaten jaguar, before dropping it onto the animal's sternum. The sound of bone breaking was music to his ears as he cracked opened the creature's chest using his tools. He conjured the sledgehammer away and began to use his two bloodied front paws to spread open the jaguar's rib cage, exposing the lungs and heart underneath. Without needing his knife, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ clawed out the two important organs. The guy wouldn't be needing them anyway. Tossing the organs into the ocean nearby for someone to find, he turned his attention toward the serval on the ground. A childish giggle would escape his jaws as he moved the corpse over, trying to figure out what to do with this one. Lifting the kitchen knife with telekinesis, Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ sliced off the serval's beautiful ears, tossing them across the ground. The kitchen knife disappeared, and instead a large meat clever replaced it. Grabbing the object in his jaws and pinning the corpse down with his paws, he slammed the clever down onto the throat of the dead serval. It took more than one hit for him to actually take the animal's head off. Once that was done, he grabbed the servals head in his jaws and positioned it in the jaguar's chest where its heart used to be. The black jaguar tilted its head as it looked at its work, before nodding approvingly. That should be good enough to get the point across. Ȁ̷͕n̵̗̒t̵̫͂i̷͓͑ would leave the meat clever where it was, and the same went with the serval body. Using his claws, he carved in his name in each body for everyone to see. He wanted creatures to come after him. He wanted to see them try. To see the hope that they could avenge their fallen comrades. Only to fail and watch their hope slowly leave their eyes as he killed them. Flicking his paws, he splattered blood across the grass and sand. His heterochromatic eyes shinned in the low light, and all that was heard was a last childish giggle as the figure disappeared.
Re: NOW ITS ROTTEN | CORPSEs, TW GORE - bubblegum - 07-25-2019
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]//rushed
Nearly all her life, Goldie was quite used to the idea of death and hurt. It followed her papa, her family, and her wherever she'd gone, and all she had wanted was to make it stop for everyone. Nowadays, she is just angry. The female quickly substituted karma when she'd finally learnt to kill. It wasn't bad if she was protecting her family, and she would do anything to protect her family. Whoever thought they could simply get away with something like this, well, they had another thing coming. A very stubborn, likely annoying thing. Goldenluxury Roux did not care to cater towards her enemies. She never has, not unless there was significant advantage in doing so - such as when she pretended to trust Jervis.
The female was making a morning round about the island when she was greeted with the two bodies, immediately focusing onto them with fast rage bubbling inside of her.
"What the fuck!" she roars, baring her teeth towards the scene before her. Perhaps bodies are the thing to expect while in the middle of a war, but she's yet to see any retaliation from the Pitt, and they smell quite heavily of some place else - no sign of the desert anywhere. Beck did not give off a smell, being a ghost, so it most likely was not him again. This seems out of ordinary for the kid, anyway. To just murder a few random crewmates of hers was not something she would expect from him, no matter how chaotic he may seem. The tigress sighs in frustration, knowing she would have to clean this up and then right away make a visit to their swamp friends. Allies really were trouble, no matter if she trusted them or not (which, she still does - there is little reason to assume their higher ranks would just let this happen). Three corpses in one week certainly was unusual, especially given one was literally her own from seven months ago, and all of the culprits supposedly come from their one and only ally, one that she had chosen quite carefully and under a lot of secrecy until she felt it right to reveal.
The captain growls to herself for a moment, looking around instead of towards the corpses. "Someone help me clean this shit up!" she demands, glowing eyes weary and impatient. It would be easy to get on the captain's bad side today, and that would not be a very enjoyable thing for anyone. So many enemies. Too much death. She was tired of it all.
Nearly all her life, Goldie was quite used to the idea of death and hurt. It followed her papa, her family, and her wherever she'd gone, and all she had wanted was to make it stop for everyone. Nowadays, she is just angry. The female quickly substituted karma when she'd finally learnt to kill. It wasn't bad if she was protecting her family, and she would do anything to protect her family. Whoever thought they could simply get away with something like this, well, they had another thing coming. A very stubborn, likely annoying thing. Goldenluxury Roux did not care to cater towards her enemies. She never has, not unless there was significant advantage in doing so - such as when she pretended to trust Jervis.
The female was making a morning round about the island when she was greeted with the two bodies, immediately focusing onto them with fast rage bubbling inside of her.
"What the fuck!" she roars, baring her teeth towards the scene before her. Perhaps bodies are the thing to expect while in the middle of a war, but she's yet to see any retaliation from the Pitt, and they smell quite heavily of some place else - no sign of the desert anywhere. Beck did not give off a smell, being a ghost, so it most likely was not him again. This seems out of ordinary for the kid, anyway. To just murder a few random crewmates of hers was not something she would expect from him, no matter how chaotic he may seem. The tigress sighs in frustration, knowing she would have to clean this up and then right away make a visit to their swamp friends. Allies really were trouble, no matter if she trusted them or not (which, she still does - there is little reason to assume their higher ranks would just let this happen). Three corpses in one week certainly was unusual, especially given one was literally her own from seven months ago, and all of the culprits supposedly come from their one and only ally, one that she had chosen quite carefully and under a lot of secrecy until she felt it right to reveal.
The captain growls to herself for a moment, looking around instead of towards the corpses. "Someone help me clean this shit up!" she demands, glowing eyes weary and impatient. It would be easy to get on the captain's bad side today, and that would not be a very enjoyable thing for anyone. So many enemies. Too much death. She was tired of it all.
Re: NOW ITS ROTTEN | CORPSEs, TW GORE - elijah - 07-25-2019
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; line-height: 1.5; font-size: 9pt;"]Sometimes, as if caught up by a dangerous pride, Elijah liked to have considered himself as omnipresent. After all, his rats liked to spread all over The Typhoon's territory, often swarming in clusters when the demiangel arrived and revealing their true number and size. But it wasn't as if everything was reported to the young pirate. Some things were better kept secret from him and while Elijah had no qualms against the keeping of secrets from him, sooner or later the male would find out. Much like the Captain, the boy was no stranger to the tragedies of death. He saw his mother and father dead within his house, he felt the loss of his siblings and the agony of helplessness. His flight was taken to him, his trust in the world had been broken. And yet he lived and felt alive. Elijah was alive. Wasn't that good enough for him? Elijah was aware that his rats often spared him the details of suffering and struggle. They knew that the boy had seen too much as a child and now wanted him to live a life as empty of pain as possible. Yet Elijah still found himself drawn towards The Typhoon, drawn towards 'home' that no longer felt like 'home' but still resonated within him. He was opening himself up to the wounds his rats tried so hard to close and mend.
It was perhaps a good thing that he had grown accustomed to the wafting stench of blood and demise. If he had been his younger, more broken self, he would have frozen in his place. His limbs would go cold, his blood would leave his face. He would have felt himself begin to shatter into a cry, remembering the awful smell of his last memory of his parents. It almost scares him now that he feels a buzzing numbness. He feels an irritation towards the smell but all other emotions are overwhelmed by the sense of indifference. Lives were so frail. Not even an angel from heaven could withstand the blunt steel of death.
Before he even sees the mess of corpses, he hears the Captain's voice, ear twitching when he arrives. He looks at the bodies but then quickly tears his eyes away, quietly noting the scent before sending his rats in to assist with the burial and clean up of the bodies. "Oh dear, they put a lot of effort into trying to make us angry," he utters calmly, and yet his voice is still stained with slight frustration. Lives weren't as expendable as people said they were. Why couldn't they understand that? Even then, it was clear that they did understand and were thus using this feeling against them. "Is this scent Tanglewood?"