OPEN you're depraved! // post-eruption survivor regroup

[METEOR]

METEOR

The lion squinted one eye at Chernabog and Vale. By the gods, he’d never understand how the two were friends. As far as he could tell, Chernabog was a friendship that kept Vale loyal to the Descendants of the Departed. And Vale was a friendship that kept Chernabog sticking around instead of flying off from boredom. And the two only stuck around on cannibal cult island because 1) the cannibals were the only place that tolerated both of their eccentricities and 2) they seemed entertained. What a weird friendship. But useful for him? Without Vale, Chernabog would become insufferably haughty. Without Chernabog, Vale would stir up trouble. What a mess!

When Rhode asked her question, Meteor’s gaze slid to the sabertooth tiger. He tapped a claw on the volcanic stone as he thought over his response. He’d been thinking about what he’d have to say in the meeting, of course. Getting away with murder wasn’t the challenge, really. Getting away with murder was a requirement for solving the ecological crisis, since, well, his father would’ve been an impediment, wouldn’t that sadistic narcissist?

“Right now, I can’t give you a satisfying answer.” Meteor’s claw stopped tapping. “However, I can tell you how I plan to arrive at an answer before the next meeting. I have to complete a full survey of the damage done to the island and take measure of our current supplies.”

Then a slight sigh. “But, if I’m guessing, Rhode? We’ll need to begin preparations to raid.”

“You’re phenomenal in the fighting pit—and my favorite sparring partner—so I expect you’ll have a few opportunities to prove yourself on a real battlefield.” A slight smirk appeared on his muzzle. All of that was true; Rhode was his favorite sparring partner, and he hoped she was as effective on the battlefield as she was in the fighting pits. Then he gestured to her coconut crab, “After all, coconut crabs are tasty, but they’re not useful for much more than food.”

[kamo ichiro.]

Ichiro had been intent on ignoring the smell of boiling crab, as much as his poor little belly protested the idea, since he hadn’t had a good meal in ages. It was the chatter that drew him out of whatever hiding spot he’d found. The sound of familiar, mostly friendly voices.

With any luck, Ryosuke would be there. Safe and sound, no harm done.

That was not the case.

Ichiro did his best, but he couldn’t hide the dismayed expression that flickered across his usually pensive face, or the way his one ear flattened against the crown of his skull, dejected at the lack of his friend’s presence. At the very least, there were other familiar faces. In fact, he recognised just about everyone here, which was nice. Everyone except the skull-faced wolf, but it did not take a genius to figure out that that was Vale, considering the pile of gore that seemed to follow the strange Inquisitor around everywhere he went. Also, the fact that xe was so friendly with Chernabog was a good start.

He was silent as he skulked mopily up to the gathering of Descendants, unceremoniously plopping himself down with a huff beside Rhode, his back hunched and head bowed.

He had little interest in the coconut crabs himself. Wouldn’t be able to crack one open anyway, and the idea of asking for help seemed like it would be embarrassing. Instead, he paid rapt attention to the conversation while doing his absolute best to pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping at all, thank you very much.

The fact that Valerius was dead was… A surprise. His azure optics snapped to the satchel of which apparently carried Valerius’s de-meat-ified head. The sight of the skull didn’t turn his stomach like it would most children his age.  He was part of a cannibal group, he was more than used to it, after all.

It did make him sad, though.

“Oh,” he whispered quietly to himself, shifting uncomfortably, and pitched himself forward to get a closer look. “Valerius-sama…”

Very insightful, clearly.