CARNIVORE | open

[Luciferr]

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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it

[tw, for squeamish-ness? Silent is never not horrific and his eating habits are terrible, apologies]

another morning, another sweltering day,

And the hollow sounds of cracking bones and rending flesh echoed in the silence of the dunes as what might have been a mighty beast of some kind was flayed open and torn into by a creature mightier in size and far more unnerving in appearance pulled back an angular hollow eyed face consisting of far too many jaws from its ribcage.

The dying beast was seemingly still alive - for now - but it gave a final gurgling as the thing which had torn it open and feasted on its insides pulled out its throbbing heart.

Cruel, yes

But the perpetrator hardly cared, flesh was flesh was food - to be consumed - still living or not.

Still the beast was dead now and thus no more complaints issued from the still warm carcass as Silent gorged itself.

It had gone too long without a ‘meal’

A pity the mind here was not worth consuming - a dull feral beast that had no more presence to offer it and made the glaring mistake of wandering into the Pitt’s territory, a shame - they would likely have to wait for a raid of some kind to find that craving.

With its jaws occupied, the horror levered its upper body over the corpse, two strong and unnatural legs holding itself steady as the latter set rose up and flexed its taloned hands over its target,

They lunged downwards, grasping and ripping the creature open, ghastly,

But not the worst thing - for with the insides exposed, the uncanny grave’s own ribcage seemed to snap open like a cavernous set of monstrous jaws that yawned wide before several tendrils, each as long as its own limbs plunged into the wound, grasping and rending and tearing great chunks of flesh and organs into its gaping maw in a cacophony of ghastly sounds.

Silent did not care for if he might have attracted a horrified (or fascinated) audience, as a few Pitt members had indeed stumbled upon him, curious about what he was doing so far out - most had left as quickly as they came with the horror barely noticing them.

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TAGS - ??? [9FT MYTH] - PITT - ART IS MINE

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© LEXASPERATED

[DIRT]

cw: insects, parasites, & gore.

---

SO MANY WAYS TO SEE THE SUNRISE.

Dirt had found himself quite a scene, a massive creature, plunging limb and fangs into a still bleeding carcass. He watched it devour the twitching, gasping thing's still beating heart, watched it rip and tear the ribcage apart, as its own matched, more tendrils reaching out for the hot flesh.

It was a horrific scene, to those with delicate sensibilities, who watched, and fled. Pitiful creatures, barely weaned from their mother's milk with that attitude, unable to see the beauty in a dying meal, in a steaming corpse that was still choking and bleeding. Unable to handle the horror of a life being reduced to nothing more than a corpse to feast on. It was a shame The Pitt had grown soft, littered with fanciful, dainty children that would have been so easy to mould otherwise. The clan was rotting slowly, from the inside out, a corpseflower gone sour, and Dirt, while disappointed, had a vested interest in sticking around to watch.

Orange eyes locked on the carcass, even as flesh was rendered from bone and consumed in such an alien, foreign way. His attention traveled to the creature then, a great mass of flesh and limbs, two sets of very curious jaws. The creature's base body seemed to be similar to his own, but with its size and specific characteristics, the similarities ended, dead in the water.

And he was so very intrigued. The parasite-ridden beast drew closer, salivating copiously. Flies and wasps buzzed around him, landing on his fur, tasting the old rotten flesh and viscera he was perpetually smeared in. Cockroaches skittered over his neck fur, onto his ears and face, only to quickly dive back into the fur on his cheeks. A giant centipede had crawled down his leg, over the scabs and holes left by parasites leaving their host. He sat down, not far from Silent, lifting up a back paw to scratch at an itch, a botfly larvae turning in its home, its claws scratching at his flesh and making it twitch.

His own belly had been oddly full as of late, so while he still salivated at the sight of a corpse, of a meal, he felt little urge to snap it up for his own.

"New here too, huh?" Dirt asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

code by spacexual

[Luciferr]

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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it

tw: still for squeamishness

to say the lack of bloodshed had left him craving was putting it mildly, perhaps why he had savaged the once breathing corpse so,

Or perhaps Silent did not care for mercies to either his food or his audience.

No matter to the creature, as it’s long fleshless tailbone lazily swiped through the sand behind it, another curiosity in that it looked more like the bones of a tail held by long extinct theropod dinosaurs - but then, the entirety of Silent was a horror of corpses mashed to create the thing that now roamed the pittlands

Thin ridged ears flickered at the voice and a sharp staccato crack echoed as the spine along its neck drew back from flesh abruptly, gore still warm and steaming from the fresh carcass congealing and dripping from both jaws as the head turned sidelong to ‘view’ the speaker.

Eyeless pits somehow seemed assessing before the taller - somewhat canine - shifted its weight to turn sidelong - the ribs-mouth of it’s chest still gaping as the tentacles spilled from its ‘mouth’ and continued consuming,

It looked over the other - infested as they were - with what might be mild curiosity - not at all put off by parasites that squirmed along the Pittian’s Coat,

Silent himself was not host to parasites, mostly because he was a parasite, though far from any kinship with the ones in this ones fur,

That and any parasite that had tried quickly found itself prey to Silent’s inherent malicious make up,

The moments seem to stretch, Then the dual jaws ground together what remained in its mouths before the upper most gaped wide in shadow to reveal rows upon rows of teeth and at its throat, another mouth that moved as it responded

“a fresh corpse for the open earth” spoke the deep rumble of the chorus, Which seemed to be its agreement - no doubt the open earth meant the Pitt in some non sequitur.

The thing’s head tilted, the smaller tendrils wreathing its shoulders and legs wavered idly, the creature searching for a moment in the silence, punctuated only by sickening sounds as the tentacles continued to pull meat to the maw

”Silent is the grave”, a name given, if in an entirely nonsensical way.

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TAGS - ??? [9FT MYTH] - PITT - ART IS MINE

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© LEXASPERATED

[Kydobi]

[align=center]

IM JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD -
♕tags-powers♕

[OOC: always IC opinions btw ]


Dirt and Silentgrave were perhaps the two most grotesque and disgusting creatures that belonged in the Pitt. Being a feline it was hard to not judge them too harshly since hygiene was so important to his kind. Besides both were of canine origins or so it seemed and Kydobi was a little biased. Especially because of his encounters with Leroy and Idyll, and quite possibly because his childhood was spent mostly growing up in a kingdom completely made up of jaguars. That being said, Kydobi wasn't an ignorant bigot. He knew, especially if these people were his own, to give everyone a chance despite appearance. If he didn't he would be a hypocrite, he would be practicing the very behavior that people used misjudge the Pitt.

What had initially drawn Kydobi was the wails of an animal in pain. By the time he arrived he was positive that Silent's prey was dead, but looking at its face frozen in anguish he knew it was not an easy way to go. Truth be told this angered Kydobi immensely, hunting was sacred. If you're going to take the life of another for sustenance do it with respect. Make it as painless as possible, hunting was an art. You are a painter, you don't slap the brush and call it whatever. You were delicate with each move, each stroke. Whatever was happening was not that. Kydobi inhaled and exhaled deeply to try to stop himself from getting irritated, something a little bit too common nowadays.

Kydobi kept silent as he watched the gruesome pair, his nose couldn't stand the stench of Dirt let alone the various bugs that caught his sharp eyes. The man had seen a lot, people get tortured alive under Jervis rule and somehow this made him want to gag. It churned his stomach and pissed him off. It was fucking disgusting! As much distaste he had, he knew they provided an advantage over the enemies they had. He was happy the two were on his side, especially Silentgrave. It was exhausting being the largest member, but finally things had change with the new joiners.

"What you did was cruel.", probably not the best way to start a conversation but he felt like he needed some clarification.

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[j a c k .]

the sound of snapping bones, flesh rending and grinding bone against bone. it was a sound that was similar, but oh so forging in that the din it caused. it verberated in the air with a sense not of dread but along the line, more a lesser form of apprehension. it cut through the silence of the outskirts of the jungle, near enough the border to cause a pause in the kodkod, but ultimately curiosity won out.

the kodkod knew there was a feast, but one of such grotesque nature was a sight to behold. watching the elder-thing that stunk of death and held such an sense of death contort itself to rend into the soft flesh of a meal. something the small feline had taken for granted in his easily crunch able game. crunching through the ribs and simply spitting them out for the much more favorable meat.

the tailend of the discussion was enough to que the newcomer into the three. and though he knew the name of none, he still settled along the group like he were one of them, for all intense and purposes he was. just new. watching dirt was like watching something particularly grewsome, maggots and botflies, honestly the kodkod preferred the open feasting one's smell in comparison. the stench of dirt was well... dirt if the knew the jaguars thoughts, they would find a quick kinship in the fae, but as it were, the smallest of the gathering was well at hiding thier displeasure, and thier composure in wake of such unsavory things.

"mercy is outlined by what isn't" the creature said in a way that spoke of some form of wisdom. jack knew cruelty only by the flip of it, it was merciful to be allowed to join, merciful to be allowed to live and breathe ( even if that were with him and his siblings fighting for every right, and will to do so, as everyone were to- made to do ), "there is nothing unlawful in enjoying a meal."

[DIRT]

cw: for parent death ment / gore / insects / parasites
im sorry he sucks jkdfgdfkjhgfdj.... ic =/= ooc opinions, hes just a real fucking bastard

---

The other spoke... strangely, as grotesque as it was. Its words seemed to mean... something, to the creature, but all Dirt could find was babbling. Silent, it was, then.

Kydobi stalked near, a breath huffing as his eyes drifted to the agonized face of Silent's lunch. The wolf noticed, how desecrating a creature that still lived seemed to hit a chord with Kydobi. It made Dirt's fur ripple, the look on the great cat's face. Ripe with disgust, a look that was briefly brushed over himself, as well.

Kydobi spoke of cruelty, condemning Silent's actions. It nearly rent a laugh from Dirt, his lips pulling back in a grin. He stood as Ardent of The Pitt, he had accepted that legacy, the blood that had soaked into this fine, reeking earth, and he admonished cruelty? Dirt's tail thumped against the earth, sending a few beetles tangled within scattering. Was Kydobi's prey still hot, when he dug into its flesh? Did he wait until it was cold and stiff, to be sure he was not being cruel? What an interesting take he had, on the nature of predation.

Not that Dirt cared. He was not here to argue philosophies. But mindgames, he could play.

"Is it cruel, when the shrike impales a mouse with a thorn? When a wasp lays its eggs within a cockroach? When an orphan must eat its mother to continue to live? It is natural. Perhaps it is natural for Silent." The wolf says simply, stretching his legs out, toes spreading, skin tugging at every burrow the larvae had made within the flesh of his paws and legs.

A smaller, littler cat made his way over, voicing his piece. So many cats. So many small animals here, soft flesh and fragile bones. He was beginning to wonder what the point of this clan was, if no longer to strike fear, or stand as a warlike power. What was the purpose? What was Kydobi planning?

He had every intention to stick around, to see where the clan's corpse rotted first.

[Luciferr]

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This is not your grave,
but you are welcome in it

tw: squeamishness and also IC opinions, bc much like Dirt, Silent is just a cold bastard and has a really weird viewpoint.

the creature had been aware of Kydobi’s silent judgement and presence but had not cared to react beyond his continuous eating until the jaguar had spoken up - upon which point, that massive cavern eyed head swung around to ‘their leader’ and its gaze could almost be called amusement, annoyance or vague disgruntled - or some confusing mess of the three for all that this shambling monstrosity made of any kind of sense.

And of course with that turn, the cracking of it’s own estranged limbs - and the ribs of the corpse it had been standing upon as it moved - brought to bear that gaping maw where a chest should be, rubbed teeth fluttering around the writhing tentacles that - with their sickening length - were still rummaging inside the corpse for every scrap it could find, 

Then that awful voice that sounded like far too many in one answered back

“Cruelty is perspective - this land is fed - nourished - by it”

Seemingly dropping it’s vague non sequiturs for the blunt approach, for it did not care for if what it did was cruel or not - meat was meat was flesh for consuming, the thing died either way and all death was agony to life, what did it matter the merit of how it was done,

The only thing that mattered was if you wasted it

And Silent was a beast of opportunities and extreme resourcefulness

An abomination of recycled materials himself, much though life hated that he even existed

But it seemed it had drawn an audience and ones that seemed disinclined to paint so broad brushstrokes as ‘their leader’

But if it bothered the other so, they could always leave

Of course, that ran the extreme risks that without being of benefit for a resting place, anything here would be suddenly recategorised as food as it’s sole resource

And well, who’s to say any of them might end up the next dedicated corpse upon which the thing fed - though they might take comfort in that, at least as thinking beasts, Silent would honour them by adding their voice to the chorus

It was really all quite simple in the end - everything had its use

And the only thing that kept Pittians safe was their use in a place for his ‘grave’

”the sands thirsts where you deny to slake it”

Perhaps he talked about the land itself and it dry desolation, of how the howling winds sounded like baying cries for blood and the ashes and echoes of old wars and wounds - for this land was built on blood and for blood it cried out,

It was what had drawn it here after all,

Or mayhaps it spoke to the thing that curled in all hearts and called those to said place much as he, everyone had their secrets whether open or closed - the longer they went without, the more it might howl

Land and the shadows in the eyes of those that roamed here both,

At Jacks words the creature gave a strange shudder-gurgle as if agreeing ”death is death” were it’s words on the matter, agreement with Dirt in its ‘bones’ as one might say

Kydobi seemed to wish to blunt the claws of his fellows, but Silent was not a creature made for bluntness - not even a creature made by any hand but it’s own to spite all else that found it so reviled - Silent was a creature made of horrors and thus it made them in turn

If the Ardent expected the corpse god as he had been so feared afore to be cowed then he’d find naught but disappointment,

Still it rose, the smaller tendrils - unlike its tentacled rib-mouth - that wreathed along its limbs and shoulders fluttering before a sharp crack had its bulging neck spine twitch and its head toss to indicate the corpse

”if there is use, you may partake” a somewhat go ahead for if the others wished to take bones, skin, flesh and the like from its meal - elsewise he’d likely remove the corpse to wherever it is the creature rested and continue there now that it’s greatly reduced weight would not be a bother to drag back.

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TAGS - ??? [9FT MYTH] - PITT - ART IS MINE

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© LEXASPERATED

[j a c k .]

excuse jack, he's making assumptions///

it was with a sense of dawning horror that jack understood the undertone of the conversation, and it was written, not in his expression but the lack of it. he were an easy fellow to read if one knew the kind of fae they were, disciplined enough to school out expression, but not the tells, a flick of a tail, a sudden stiffness to the male's own muscles. Dirt was speaking of peace, silent was speaking of old wars, and kydobi was speaking of peace a peace that was not welcome, this clan was made out of war, defined by it, and now in new leadership they rebelled against openly, war they still craved it seemed.

no, jack was stilll young, niave in many ways. he was but a creature of ice in a land of heat and wind. out of his elements in all manners of the word but still there, still present despite it. it was easy to dismiss him as young niave, but jack were not to allow for a dismissal of power, and by the quick dismissal of dirt the male turned his own attention away from the other, disgruntled, and still reeling from the conclusions drawn.

the pittlands was an old landscape of a harsher form of life, and it was what drew the young fae in, to learn and grow along them, be stronger for the trails of life and let his new home dictate wherein it may lead him. he had no agenda, no desire to roam the lands seeking death, no want for glory or battle, but the place reeked of it. along the border the male accepted the fact as fact, battle would be something he would have to face, in a place like this. he accepted it, but a war from the inside? a civil war? the male knew nothing of

he pushed thoughts aside, dirt's casual indifference of him, the threat that hung in the air of war that jack was all to aware of now, and simple took silent in on his offer, stepping closer to seek and scavange the grotesque remains of what was once a breathing living thing. nature had run it's corse, a corpse it now was, and with a grim set to the fae's features he cast one last look towards silent- before he took a claw and carefully cut along the jaw. claws small enough to gut the gums of the carnivore corpse. a fang his prize. using ice to freeze and unfreeze rapidly made a clean even cut, and with bearly a wiggle the tooth came out. jack took hold of his prize between his own teeth, the fang hanging like a full bone would for a smaller creature. it was stark along his paws and face, blood smearing along his skin.

setting the bone down he looked towards silent, giving a nod. he did not thank him, it was not in his way to owe the other a favor, as is the way of his kind- but he acknowledged the other's allowance of the prize.

for now, they were silent, their own form shifting to sit with the prize between their paws, sitting closer to where silent was than before, close to the corpse and farther from kydobi, a line drawn? mayhaps.