01-31-2020, 10:55 AM
decisions to decisions are made and not bought
Death was something that instinct avoided. Death was something that instinct existed to prevent. It was the preservation of self, the way that creatures could survive with little intensity of mental power. Instinct was what kept simple minded Astiar alive. He was a bug thrown into the body of a massive beast. He was horrifically simple. Driven by instinct in near entirety. The only exemption was curiosity, his sole deviance from the basis of survival. Curiosity was the mindset that drove him to prod at things that before he would have entirely ignored. Curiosity was the motivator for growth, usually. The desire to know what something was. It was simple curiosity, but the mentality nonetheless was possessed by the cicada. New people he was curious about. Were they truly part of the hive? Or were they visitors? Were they the same people that had burned down the jungle? Or were they simply arriving in the aftermath? All those questions were barely able to be formed by Astiar's simplistic mind. They all revolved around grouping. Cicadas, after all, were swarming creatures. They valued security in numbers. Knowing those in those numbers was a little bit beyond normal cicada comprehension. Astiar, of course, was no ordinary cicada. He was big, draconic, and while he looked like a cicada he also did not. His mind was that of one, but his body was that of another.
One thing that would forever and always remain the same was the diet that Astiar possessed. Trees, bushes, branches, roots - plant matter. That was all he could eat comfortably. Meat was an option, but it was not highly valued. The few attempts had either been entirely wrong (such as accidentally kidnapping a child), had tasted horrific, or had made the dragon feel uncomfortable. He stuck to eating plant matter. Such was hard when the jungle was burned, trees stripped of their nutrition. There was nothing for him to eat around here. Hearing screaming, noise, was what warranted his approach. Noisy as ever, buzzing rapidly. He remembered the other vaguely. New hive member. A new member of the collective, the many, the group that protects their own. Wasn't he? He was new, but Astiar's simple mind simply had to put two and two together in a way that was simple, efficient, and worked. His head craned down a little, mostly to try and figure out what was causing the screaming that had brought him over. The monkey was crushed. The implications didn't register in his mind. He'd seen plenty of prey in the food pile before, killed in various different ways. A loud chittering noise sounded from the cicada. Curious.
The clouds of strange gas confused him. He would have gotten closer to swat at the colored air, but he didn't want to accidentally swat another member of the hive. Hurting another member of the hive would have been horrific. The hive protected each other. Hurting was exactly against that implication, and Astiar's mind fully understood it. Another chitter, louder, burned leg clawing at the dirt. Confusion, curiosity. "SMALL NO FOOD HIVE BURN NO LIGHT SMALL GREETING BURN FOOD." Astiar hadn't spoken to this member of the hive yet - not in any comprehensible way. The buzzes, chitters, and movements were all methods of communication that only he understood. The mental screeching that the dragon used to communicate was just as loud and noisy as his physical presence was. He greeted and commented in his own simple way. Did he understand the scope of the other's dilemma? No. It was debatable if he'd grasp it even if he was told it. He simply was drawn in by noise, a concern that another member of the hive had been hurt and had warranted the noise. He knew the noises of pain well - the burn on his front leg having been the reason for grasping his own methods of submission. Astiar's head lowered a little more. Was the head gone? The hive member did not seem hurt. The prey, on the other hand, certainly wasn't moving around anymore. A softer chitter sounded, stark in comparison to the mental screech that the dragon presented moments prior.
One thing that would forever and always remain the same was the diet that Astiar possessed. Trees, bushes, branches, roots - plant matter. That was all he could eat comfortably. Meat was an option, but it was not highly valued. The few attempts had either been entirely wrong (such as accidentally kidnapping a child), had tasted horrific, or had made the dragon feel uncomfortable. He stuck to eating plant matter. Such was hard when the jungle was burned, trees stripped of their nutrition. There was nothing for him to eat around here. Hearing screaming, noise, was what warranted his approach. Noisy as ever, buzzing rapidly. He remembered the other vaguely. New hive member. A new member of the collective, the many, the group that protects their own. Wasn't he? He was new, but Astiar's simple mind simply had to put two and two together in a way that was simple, efficient, and worked. His head craned down a little, mostly to try and figure out what was causing the screaming that had brought him over. The monkey was crushed. The implications didn't register in his mind. He'd seen plenty of prey in the food pile before, killed in various different ways. A loud chittering noise sounded from the cicada. Curious.
The clouds of strange gas confused him. He would have gotten closer to swat at the colored air, but he didn't want to accidentally swat another member of the hive. Hurting another member of the hive would have been horrific. The hive protected each other. Hurting was exactly against that implication, and Astiar's mind fully understood it. Another chitter, louder, burned leg clawing at the dirt. Confusion, curiosity. "SMALL NO FOOD HIVE BURN NO LIGHT SMALL GREETING BURN FOOD." Astiar hadn't spoken to this member of the hive yet - not in any comprehensible way. The buzzes, chitters, and movements were all methods of communication that only he understood. The mental screeching that the dragon used to communicate was just as loud and noisy as his physical presence was. He greeted and commented in his own simple way. Did he understand the scope of the other's dilemma? No. It was debatable if he'd grasp it even if he was told it. He simply was drawn in by noise, a concern that another member of the hive had been hurt and had warranted the noise. He knew the noises of pain well - the burn on his front leg having been the reason for grasping his own methods of submission. Astiar's head lowered a little more. Was the head gone? The hive member did not seem hurt. The prey, on the other hand, certainly wasn't moving around anymore. A softer chitter sounded, stark in comparison to the mental screech that the dragon presented moments prior.
control yourself and take only what you need from it
TAGS 9/4/19:
[table]
[tr]
[td][/td]
[td]
[/tr]
[/table]
[tr]
[td][/td]
[td]
FULZANIN is a 19 year old content creator. Currently roleplaying as Beezlebub in the Pitt and Jotunhel in the Typhoon. Time spent outside of work and writing is typically done in Creatures of Sonaria. FULZANIN is also in a happy relationship, and is aegosexual/asexual herself.
[/td][/tr]
[/table]