chomp chomp -- open

[roman]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"]Time for immortals passes differently. Although the sun rises and falls day after day, it's not like Fish pays attention to it. Sometimes she sleeps for days, weeks at a time. Other times, she stays awake for just as long. The monstrous creature often forgets that regular people adhere to mortal schedules, their bodies blossoming and then rotting just like a flower would. She does not realize that her "brief" absences might span several lifetimes of her favorite little fleshies. Oh well, loss of life has never bothered her before. Especially since she so often dines on the swamp's residents. A plump cat is like a delicacy compared to the slimy stinky fishies she usually sustains herself with. But nothing is better than a gator. It's like chicken...but better.

At this current point in time, the massive, scaly beast is hunkered over a freshly slaughtered alligator. Slaughtered, not killed. Slaughtered, because several of the limbs are missing and the skull has been crushed. But Fish seems unfazed by the gruesome scene, and busies herself by tearing the thick hide and plucking off the tender flesh within. "Yummy, yummy, in my tummy~" cackles the ghostly beast in a singsong voice. Blood saturates her muscular body, though it's nigh impossible to discern from her oily black scales which constantly shift and shine to match the murky color of her surroundings. There is nothing more Tanglewood than a monster shredding apart one of the most prolific predators native to the area.

[valo-kas]

“[color=salmon]aww, ya didn’t...” they pursed their lips for a moment like they didn’t want to appear as upset as they did, hackles lifted in a ridge down their back because danger — but nowadays they were more and more inclined to ignore that instinct. this was supposed to be a fun walk, a decompressor even, but they just had to follow the sounds of wet snapping. valo-kas looked away from fish and her meal. “[color=salmon]you didn’t have to eat one of them.” the mutant insisted tersely because yes, they were still genuinely fond of the things even if the whole ‘i want to fuck gators’ thing had started as a joke. rampant nonsensical attempts at ironic, shocking humor as a coping mechanism take over as key character traits, more at seven. here’s moira with the weather. whatever. they were doomed to be predictable and that —

well. that was fine, valo-kas supposed. again, whatever.

thank you, james. we’ve got a blizzard heading in... even that joke dug it’s heels in a little too deep into the easily shaped meat of their brain because now valo-kas heard the voices. their nostrils flated and they let out a huff that may as well have been a scream.

“[color=salmon]i’ll uh....leave you to it if you’re, like...busy.”

[beck.]

    Tearing flesh, childish cooing, and the reek of algae? Looks like the mysterious Fish was back to keep them entertained and cleaning up after her messes.

    "Dammit, not again," was the first thing he wheezed out upon stumbling across the sight, drawn to the scent of blood like the tide to the moon. What did everyone have against alligators? Beck gave an exasperated swear under his punctured breath, switching back to his native tongue before glancing back down from his branch at the crime scene. Oh, it was gory all right, and part of him was reminded of long-forgotten scenes from slashers he watched years ago. The poltergeist scrunched his eyes shut in concentration to remember their titles for a moment, flashes of spattered stage blood and mangled corpses painted across a screen briefly crossing his mind yet all remained nameless.

    A familiar garbled strand of words dragged his attention away from the various televisions he longed for and back to staring down at a mutilated gator and its predator, amber eyes glued to the brutal meal instead of acknowledging Valo-kas' arrival. Shifting his nonexistent weight on his tree branch and hooking his claws into cypress bark, the disheveled feline twisted his head to the side in owlish fashion. Swiping a pallid tongue over exposed teeth, Beck crept forward down his branch to  peer over Fish and hoarsely call out, "How'd ya even get a gator? And ya know, ya can just ask for somethin' to eat instead of... doin'... this." While he himself lacked a proper stomach and a need to eat, everyone else needed to, and by now, he was sure everyone's efforts had accumulated a large enough stockpile to freely snack from. But what did he know? Beck was only attempting to spark a conversation to distract from the noises of Fish ripping through hide and tissue.

[align=center]»――➤

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[Nayru]

[color=#6b7e99]✦ ✦ ✦

Perhaps Nayru shouldn't have been here.

It was not the gruesome scene that chilled the Sawbone to the bone, her cerulean eyes widening substantially as she took in the sight of the mangled alligator corpse. No, it was the fact that upon her head rested Chad, his sudden and loud hisses indicating a sort of distress that she was unfamiliar with. She pushed him from her head in that moment, urging him to find some fold of her scarf to rest within while she interacted with her clanmates. Her alligator might still be a child, but he was no unintelligent being. He understood that the body before him had once been his kin, even if he, personally, had no ties to them.

Nayru would sigh quietly, forcing herself to fixate her gaze upon Fish in some last ditch effort to dismiss her troubled thoughts. She was, of course, still worried about her alligator but she was hardly in the position to lecture this... creature on her diet. She couldn't recall if she had interacted fully with Fish before but, if her memory served, she might have received a weekly task from the other fae when she first joined. She was a rather beastly thing but didn't seem interested in harming any of her fellow Tanglers so Nayru knew she had no real reason to be frightened by her. Just unnerved which, admittedly, seemed like a proper response.

Vigenere seemed properly spooked though and Nayru shot him a sideways glance. She still hadn't forgiven him for the scarf incident and such shown brightly within a suddenly cold stare. Maybe he deserved a good frightening. [b][color=#6b7e99]"As long as you don't touch my alligator," She began, returning to Fish, [color=#6b7e99]"Then there won't be a problem." What could an undersized healer do against a swamp monster? Who knew. It didn't change the fact that she would willing to defend Chad at any cost though.

[Bean]

[roman]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"]What fish doesn't understand is why everyone is so bothered by her diet. Do they not hunt and kill mice? Fish? (She chuckles to herself, though no one would be able to tell why). How is an alligator different aside from being the most decadent meat to be found in the swamp? The swamp beast has resided in Tanglewood before it was Tanglewood. Before it was radioactive, before the humans came and left. She simply does what she's always done: play and eat, although she refrains from chomping on the kitties and the puppies because she's afraid of accidentally eating a friend. Too many rules for Fish, she thinks, bobbing her head in agreement to her thought. Pupil-less eyes reminiscent of a teal marble shift over to regard the first arrival: Vilo-kas. "Fish is hungry," remarks the creature with a shrug, a long pink tongue emerging from behind rows of razor sharp teeth to clean crimson blood from her oily black maw. "When Fish is hungry, Fish eats. And Fish likes eatin' gators." For a beast that is similar to a very large and very scaly wolf, her voice is soft and playful--like a child's.

Comically large ears twitch at the sound of Beck, and the water spirit seems to brighten upon spotting her fellow ghostie. Literally. A burst of white light seems to ripple across her color-changing scales, perhaps indicating her joy upon seeing her (unwilling) friend. "Hunted it and killed it, Fish did!" chirps the monster in reply, seeming to misinterpret his exasperation for praise. "Gators are easy-peasy once ya get the hang of it. They can bite real hard, but not open their mouths!" She laughs with glee. "Step on their mouthies and go 'chomp-chomp' on their skulls and then you have lunch and dinner!" Fish fails to grasp that most people don't want to hear a graphic description of how she hunts, but her instinct to please and makes friends urges her to continue, even if it clashes with her obvious lack of social graces. A massive paw bats the air, dismissing Beck's suggestion to eat pre-killed food. "Food tastes better fresh~" Silly, confused Beck.

Although she is a messy eater and non-discriminatory when it comes to dinner, Fish is, more or less, a benevolent creature; playful, friendly, kindhearted. Perhaps her manners would be less abrasive if she had died a little later in life before being reborn as the beast that she is. Unfortunately, her life was fleeting, so a child's soul is permanently locked within the terrifying bulk that is now Fish. What's worse is that she's been allowed to raise herself. A panicked voice draws the monstrous predator's attention from beck, to a tiny poofy kitty. "That is Fish. Fish is a water spirit," she answers, seemingly unfazed by the other's fear. She is used to those sorts of reactions, although she wishes people would be her friend instead of being afraid of her. The carcass has been cleared of edible flesh, and Fish casually begins digging a gator-sized hole in which to stash the remains for later chomping. She glances up from her work when Nayru speaks. She has a pet gator? How fun! "That's okay! Fish doesn't need to eat a lot, plus Fish only like big gators, not baby ones." It was intended to be reassuring, at least.

The last arrival does not win much of Fish's attention, as the girl is busy burying the body of poor Mr. Gator. In fact, it seems like the water dog is no longer paying any attention, but she is. "That's silly!" she chirps with an amused smile, but does not spare a glance towards Iota. "You say you aren't gonna comment but that was a comment! Ha!" she is easy to amuse.

[eggplant18]

//OOC

It wasn’t hard to attract attention when the stench of coppery blood and fear was concentrated in a single spot. The emotionless dragon approached next, unfazed by the brute gore. The limbs had been torn off carelessly, leaving spattered blood and bits of flesh strewn about the scene. He himself was not strong enough to take down a gator. He was too small and would be killed in a single bite. The coyote-sized reptile scanned over the half-buried, half-eaten corpse. It seemed like a waste to tear it apart so carelessly. He had done a similar thing just weeks prior, but that was different. He had no intention of eating the bodies he had left behind. Nor had he done it so gruesomely. Fish had done it for ‘fun,’ from the looks of her face- his movements had been moderately precise.

He prodded the stuff corpse with a hand, peering at the blood it left on his palm. A stark red against purple. He had never eaten gator before. It would be something new. With help of his claws, a piece of flesh was weaseled off before he put it in his mouth. It was a peculiar flavor, and tough in texture. He wouldn’t bother to hunt gators for food any time in the future. Not worth the effort. Nonchalantly flicking blood from his hand, he looked over at Fish. “It’s a waste to tear your prey apart so carelessly. You will lose potential meat this way. Revise your hunting methods.” He couldn’t write in his notebooks until he cleaned his hands. Blood soaked pages were difficult to read.

[align=center]ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGS

[ARGUS]

[align=center]

Lost to this monster
THIS PUP BEHIND THE SLUGHTER

Whisper knows death like the back of her paw, and the stentch of it just as fimiliar to the coppery tang of blood. However within the foul smelling edges of the swamp that Whisper mostly tries to avoid because of gators- the smell of death is carefully blocked within the stench of rotting logs and whatever it was that kept dying. There was always something rotting within the swamp- so to say she found the scent and followed was less an open excuse to Whisper just stumbling upon the scene. For what it was worth she did not openly balk at the river spirit- "fish" as they called themselves. She was just getting the distinct impression that she was very very old. Maybe even older than whisper- which was quite a feet in itself.

Other's- or at least most of them seemed to balk openly at the gore that coated the spirit's form. But Whisper was either brave or stupid- or both. Child-like curiosity blending with an ancinet mind createing a dangerous mix as she stepped closer towards the spirit than other's would dare to. Four blinking eyes wide as she came closer, stopping short on the other side of the gored gator to watch fish either back away herself or growl to attack- both were expected- and neither was unpredictable at least.

While Whisper liked to think she was a little eerie, standing here head to head to a riverspirit covered in gore she didn't have much to her own name. The small things that made her odd were only subtly apparent. Whisper's small form was meant to instil the need to protect her than creep others out, but here standing across something she destinctly has memories of watching crawl out of the water's edge in the typhoon in the night of the tanglegrowth's first raid there. Argus was first instilled with hunger at the sight of such a spirit roaming so freely. But whisper was different- she could feel it so much stronger now in the reality of the physical plane. No longer a ghost or figment of someone else's consious she had the urge to eat. ❝I get hungry too sometimes. But only near spirits and ghosts. Does that mean i should only eat ghosts? That i should eat you?❞ The puppy spoke up. No real criticism or second hand meaning behind her words. They were strightforward, and her eyes showed no sign of deception.

she was asking permission

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[roman]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"]Another approaches, but this time it dons scales. Not exactly the same as her own armored hide, but similar enough to capture the beast's interest. Most, if not all, of her Tanglehood friends are furry. The idea of winning a scaly friend, too, is incredibly appealing to the friendly(ish) creature. Unfortunately for Fish, this particular individual feels...off. Empty. The other little fluffy friends are enveloped by the stench of feelings, each reaction emotionally genuine. But not this one. Intrigued, blank teal eyes widen as fish stretches her neck to examine Ska'arq. "Who are you?" Fish asks in between freeing pieces of flesh from her rows of massive teeth with her tongue. Poor girl needs to be taught table manners. At least she pays attention to people when they speak. That is more than what some can say. "Truly?" she replies, genuinely intrigued by his assessment of her kill--perhaps 'slaughter' is a more appropriate term. "More fun to hunt like this, Fish thinks," continues the creature, blinking slowly as attempts to process the information. In all honesty, the girl has no idea what Ska'arq means, but she is doing her best. She knows it means something, she just can't make the connection as to what it means. Is she not supposed to have fun? Are there rules to killing? All limbs have to stay attached. Fish becomes distressed at that particular thought.

Truthfully, the fact that most people lurk several paces away from Fish is an unnecessary precaution; caused by innate fear of a massive scaly dog the size of shire horse and slathered in the blood of an equally large reptilian predator rather than genuine necessity. Fish is, more or less, completely harmless. Her belly is full and the boredom characteristic of immortal beings has been satiated by playing with her food. And given that she is not quick to anger, everyone is safe in her presence, no matter how disgusting she might be.

When a young pup steps forward, Fish nearly vibrates with pleasure. She was satisfied with the simple act of conversing with another creature, but the fact that one has moved past the invisible bubble separating her from everyone else? Amazing! She could not even be perturbed by the admittedly strange words by which the child addressed her. Probably perhaps Fish has grown accustomed to remaining the same while everything else changed with the passage of time, thus robbing her of any concept of death. Fish is pretty sure she is already dead, which is why she is Fish. "Well if you only eat things you're hungry for then it would make sense that you only eat ghosts," muses the creature as she rolls backwards on her haunches in an unrefined sitting position. Food always interests Fish, even if she is the one being theoretically consumed. Fish does not discriminate. "Well...if you want to. Fish doesn't think she'll taste very delicious, but Fish has never been eaten before so she doesn't know."