01-27-2020, 01:11 AM
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CAUSTIC
// CW for blood and violence!
Without his toxin, without the games, without test subjects, without Octane, what was Caustic supposed to do with himself? He needed gear, equipment, test subjects, and supplies. Caustic found himself limited on all fronts. His lack of hands possibly held him back the most. Even if he was able to collect everything, the chemicals, a mask, rats, beakers and various lab equipment, he could not handle highly-toxic poisons, fragments of a deadly, beautiful toxin that had be stitched together with the utmost care and gentle touch.
Caustic's only tenderness survived in his work, each trap and the toxin that filled them combined into a beautiful, gaseous death. He thought of Mirage's stupid face twisting into pain as NOX gas filled his lungs, skin peeling back and blood filling his lungs. Bloodhound's red eyes watching Caustic from outside the gas, the hunter locking onto him, feral snarl and all, emptying a Flatline into his chest, and the scientist Peacekeepered them in response. With Bloodhound down, he had turned his attention back to Mirage, the trickster attempting to crawl away. Caustic's boot slammed onto his back, telltale snapping of bones under his strength, Elliot coughing blood and meeting Caustic's crazed gaze out of the corner of his eye.
That's it. That's what Caustic lived for. The fear in the final moments before death, wide eyes and struggling to breathe. He knew, as fear froze on their faces in the moments before the kill, but Caustic knew they were thankful for the end of their suffering.
Revision of the memory brought a shudder through Caustic's body, his shoulders rolling, fur raising and falling. Few things brought Caustic genuine joy, chemistry and death. The bloody murder was his favorite part. Green smoke left his mouth, and Caustic stood from the mat he currently called a bed.
Oh, how he hated living in here. The treehouse was too exposed. It was too close to everyone else and the temples, and Caustic desired to be left alone with his work. Blue eyes scanned his empty home.
There wasn't anything here to work on. Caustic watched the green gas leave his nose, curling into the air and disappearing. A saving grace. An untested variable. He needed to know if the gas exuded from his face was still toxic, and maybe he could still have something to live for. Alexander's entire identity of Caustic relied on the power of his gas, without it, who was he?
Caustic left his home in the dead of night, carefully stepping down the stairs and trying to avoid tripping over his bad paw. His next task would be to make a prosthetic to replace his missing digits, he decided. His current quest took higher priority. He needed something alive. The wolf trudged his way into the jungle, mouth held closed to avoid revealing himself. Green still smoked from his nose, and he hoped it would not get it his way. He was severely limited on prey in the jungle- they had to be on the ground and most of the smaller animals could climb or fly. He had to be careful, quiet, and precise. Even something small would do.
It had taken him time, but Caustic's eyes were soon on a monkey. It couldn't be that old, especially if it was foolish enough to be on the ground. He thought of how to approach it, he would need to be fast, but he couldn't be forceful. He needed it alive. The wolf threw himself, paw landing on torso and jaws clamping- as gently as possible- on its chest. It screamed in his hold, slapping his face and biting his ear. Caustic moved, putting his weight on the monkey to hold it down, ripping his ear from its jaws in a squirt of blood. He sucked in a breath with gritted teeth. He held it down, as it continued screaming.
"Off! Off!"
It was prey. His test subjects speaking had never stopped him before. Caustic brought his face close, teeth bared. "Struggling will make it worse." It stopped for the briefest of moments, letting Caustic take in a large breath of air, and blow a cloud of green gas into the monkey's face.
His ears perked forward and expression softened, he was ready to hear the sounds of struggle, gasping, fear-
A cough, then screaming. Uninterrupted screaming. It started slapping his face and pulling on his lips as shock took over Caustic's brain.
It didn't work.
His vision went red, white hot anger filled his blood as his jaws snapped forward on the primate's skull, crushing it. Caustic felt the blood and fur fill his mouth, green gas spewing out in hot fury, filling the cavity of the primate. He threw it down, growling overtaking him biting into the prey's skin, ripping it away in a mess of blood. His face scrunched, consciousnesses giving him only the slightest moment of clarity-
What am I doing?
This was his test subject, already deemed a failure, but the wolf... killing in this way was barbaric. It was savagery in a way Caustic had never done. Punching and choking were one thing, but ripping, tearing, and biting were all too familiar to the body he now inhabited. He sat back, tail wrapping around him, gas smoking from his face in a sickly cloud as he looked at the remains of the primate, it was still mostly intact, except for its head.
"Observational studies of NOX gas post-transformation, number one," he sucked in air, letting another cloud bellow from him. "Test subject terminated. No reaction upon exposure to the chemical, further testing will be required."
// No need to match!
// TLDR Caustic feels he has no purpose in life without his gas and goes into the jungle to test it on prey (a monkey). It struggles, and Caustic blows the green gas from his body into it's face. It doesn't react, and Caustic crushes its skull in his jaws. He is now sitting and looking over the corpse, speaking the conclusion of the test to himself. You might be able to get a good gist of the situation from the last 2-4 paragraphs.
Without his toxin, without the games, without test subjects, without Octane, what was Caustic supposed to do with himself? He needed gear, equipment, test subjects, and supplies. Caustic found himself limited on all fronts. His lack of hands possibly held him back the most. Even if he was able to collect everything, the chemicals, a mask, rats, beakers and various lab equipment, he could not handle highly-toxic poisons, fragments of a deadly, beautiful toxin that had be stitched together with the utmost care and gentle touch.
Caustic's only tenderness survived in his work, each trap and the toxin that filled them combined into a beautiful, gaseous death. He thought of Mirage's stupid face twisting into pain as NOX gas filled his lungs, skin peeling back and blood filling his lungs. Bloodhound's red eyes watching Caustic from outside the gas, the hunter locking onto him, feral snarl and all, emptying a Flatline into his chest, and the scientist Peacekeepered them in response. With Bloodhound down, he had turned his attention back to Mirage, the trickster attempting to crawl away. Caustic's boot slammed onto his back, telltale snapping of bones under his strength, Elliot coughing blood and meeting Caustic's crazed gaze out of the corner of his eye.
That's it. That's what Caustic lived for. The fear in the final moments before death, wide eyes and struggling to breathe. He knew, as fear froze on their faces in the moments before the kill, but Caustic knew they were thankful for the end of their suffering.
Revision of the memory brought a shudder through Caustic's body, his shoulders rolling, fur raising and falling. Few things brought Caustic genuine joy, chemistry and death. The bloody murder was his favorite part. Green smoke left his mouth, and Caustic stood from the mat he currently called a bed.
Oh, how he hated living in here. The treehouse was too exposed. It was too close to everyone else and the temples, and Caustic desired to be left alone with his work. Blue eyes scanned his empty home.
There wasn't anything here to work on. Caustic watched the green gas leave his nose, curling into the air and disappearing. A saving grace. An untested variable. He needed to know if the gas exuded from his face was still toxic, and maybe he could still have something to live for. Alexander's entire identity of Caustic relied on the power of his gas, without it, who was he?
Caustic left his home in the dead of night, carefully stepping down the stairs and trying to avoid tripping over his bad paw. His next task would be to make a prosthetic to replace his missing digits, he decided. His current quest took higher priority. He needed something alive. The wolf trudged his way into the jungle, mouth held closed to avoid revealing himself. Green still smoked from his nose, and he hoped it would not get it his way. He was severely limited on prey in the jungle- they had to be on the ground and most of the smaller animals could climb or fly. He had to be careful, quiet, and precise. Even something small would do.
It had taken him time, but Caustic's eyes were soon on a monkey. It couldn't be that old, especially if it was foolish enough to be on the ground. He thought of how to approach it, he would need to be fast, but he couldn't be forceful. He needed it alive. The wolf threw himself, paw landing on torso and jaws clamping- as gently as possible- on its chest. It screamed in his hold, slapping his face and biting his ear. Caustic moved, putting his weight on the monkey to hold it down, ripping his ear from its jaws in a squirt of blood. He sucked in a breath with gritted teeth. He held it down, as it continued screaming.
"Off! Off!"
It was prey. His test subjects speaking had never stopped him before. Caustic brought his face close, teeth bared. "Struggling will make it worse." It stopped for the briefest of moments, letting Caustic take in a large breath of air, and blow a cloud of green gas into the monkey's face.
His ears perked forward and expression softened, he was ready to hear the sounds of struggle, gasping, fear-
A cough, then screaming. Uninterrupted screaming. It started slapping his face and pulling on his lips as shock took over Caustic's brain.
It didn't work.
His vision went red, white hot anger filled his blood as his jaws snapped forward on the primate's skull, crushing it. Caustic felt the blood and fur fill his mouth, green gas spewing out in hot fury, filling the cavity of the primate. He threw it down, growling overtaking him biting into the prey's skin, ripping it away in a mess of blood. His face scrunched, consciousnesses giving him only the slightest moment of clarity-
What am I doing?
This was his test subject, already deemed a failure, but the wolf... killing in this way was barbaric. It was savagery in a way Caustic had never done. Punching and choking were one thing, but ripping, tearing, and biting were all too familiar to the body he now inhabited. He sat back, tail wrapping around him, gas smoking from his face in a sickly cloud as he looked at the remains of the primate, it was still mostly intact, except for its head.
"Observational studies of NOX gas post-transformation, number one," he sucked in air, letting another cloud bellow from him. "Test subject terminated. No reaction upon exposure to the chemical, further testing will be required."
// No need to match!
// TLDR Caustic feels he has no purpose in life without his gas and goes into the jungle to test it on prey (a monkey). It struggles, and Caustic blows the green gas from his body into it's face. It doesn't react, and Caustic crushes its skull in his jaws. He is now sitting and looking over the corpse, speaking the conclusion of the test to himself. You might be able to get a good gist of the situation from the last 2-4 paragraphs.
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