TELL ME WHO I AM // jack, vale, and gore

[VALE]

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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ three-eyed crow

Cawing in unison, the largest murder to grace the Pitt’s desert descends upon one lonely oasis. The plague of intelligent birds rips the foliage to shreds, steals carrion from the local buzzards, and consumes everything in their path. Nothing edible escapes their notice in the murder’s flight across the desert. They never intended to come this deep; they want to flee into familiar forests.

But the three-eyed one leads them deeper into the parched lands.

Many died of dehydration; the murder descended upon their corpses and left their bones upon the sands. Less died than you would expect.

For all the madness of the three-eyed one, ve killed for them and, when there was none, created food out of nothing by becoming meat. Thus the murder would eat, for a time, and one out of their many would grow a third eye. The cycle continued, destruction and creation, as the days grew hotter.

None thought to ask the three-eyed crow why the murder flew deeper into the desert. If any had asked, the three-eyed one wouldn’t have been able to explain.

The three-eyed crow forgot everything, again. And not for the first time.

Dante should have known. The drug addict had seen Vale as a shadow of verself, and only speaking the menace’s name broke the spell.

Vale verself should have known. Remembering every committed sin, remembering every failure, and remembering every dear truth you forgot, all of these things hurt. Nobody can ingest an immortal’s worth of memories in one afternoon, one fortnight, one dreary twilight… including Vale.

Ve forgot vis brother’s face and name long ago. Now, the three-eyed crow forgot vis name and face anew. Perhaps on the sixth day of the blooding. Not the first, certainly not the first.

The three-eyed one flutters vis wings and lands among the tiny pool. The other crows hop out of the way, as if the three-eyed one is a god among them, and the three-eyed one drinks. There is never enough water in a desert, unless you are a god, and you can kill your enemies or your followers to sate your hunger.

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[j a c k .]

WINTER CANNOT BE CHAINED

— THE FIRST FROST IS OVER, BUT IT WILL NEVER LEAVE US

To be a god is a terrifying concept: an aspect of a force of nature, to be seen and heard and yet- misunderstood by all. To lay siege to the conscious mind and watch as other's wills bend and break and shatter in the mere span of a breath. Immortality was tiering, alliances faded in and out with each rattle of exhale. Monarchs fell and rose within blinks of the eye. Societies would crumble, but the aspects will remain. Unable to tire, to rest to never fully be at ease- peace- until the season strikes them again.

Jack was tired of watching the cycle repeat itself. Distantly he was aware of his own demotion, and felt nothing but a brush of disappointment. Gael had every right to be disappointed. The young half fae was exhausted, sore after the winter storm. No one really knew the effect it would have on him- the sudden influx in a place where Jack was content to be weak- Power: most seeked it, lapped at the blood of such entities for a chance at it- hungerly. - What of those who ran from it? Who fled from such responsibilities and obligations?

It caught up, eventually.

When jack awoke in the noon, he wondered once again what had changed in his absence. What would lie at his feet beyond the broken responsibilities that he had been entrusted? Would his family crumble away? Would all his loyalties be worn like the frayed edges of the knot? Time is a tool that an immortal could get swept into, lost to the tides.

Gods, he wonders how his siblings are, if they are holding up well. If they're hurt.

When the three eyed raven sweeps into the desert, eyes on a pond of water, one does not question it. Water is scarce- a rarity, with the pittians tainting their own fresh water. Do not question the chill of the water, nor the slight tremble of grains of sands. Do not look into the ashen city where a throne of ice is still standing. A den to the aspect of famine and death- Winter- Jack watched on as the murder descended with their chosen god, and as his sights locked onto it- recognition was enough. Small frame slipping easily by as breathing. The birds not smart enough to warn their chosen- the few who could- would still prove to be too late.

Gods battle, but aspects such as he: simply wait. They both have an eternity in spans of their patience. Jack was tired of waiting. Restless thoughts and lack of action made him eager, his anger distant snapped back into the present with every step. A quick lunch before he was atop of vem.

because vey were near the water- one would quickly realize. The element that Jack held at his control. [glow=red,2,300]Water turned into a hand that would catch vem unawares- grasping at vir feathers, soaking vem and freezing vem solid. Three jets of the same small pool turning into spikes of the very same liquid.[/glow] A quiet snarl was on his expression as he stepped close into vir presence, even as a small kodkod as their form- Jack could swallow the crow whole.

They had half a mind to, but what was the enjoyment in that?

"[glow=#2F2F4F,2,300]Vale,[/glow]" they could gloat, but Jack had no time for overconfidence. He wanted to be done with this. Voice just a hush above a whisper- sounding so intimate and cold all at once. A Greeting- a goodbye in one. He looked towards the creature that had caused so much distaste as of late. Stirring up a ruckus. He needn't have worried- after all- most creatures fall to the want of needs. Water- air. Both were in his area of expertise. both would be this one's undoing. unless.

When was the last time he had eaten?

The quiet anger under his skin - and hunger for blood could both be satiated. Needs, it fell to needs. Jack was foolishly thinking, fogged thoughts from his slumber still clung no matter how much his anger had quelled most of it- he looked towards vem contemplatively before he made his choice.

he bit down.

ice crunched wonderfully under steel-clad teeth. [glow=red,2,300]Jack's small fangs aiming for the back of Vale's form.[/glow] Crunching through the bone as easily as the ice- birds so fragile and weak to the jaws of it's predator. hollow splintering into a asking maw- Jack awaited for the taste of blood. How could such a creature escape the trap it easily fell into? willingly took?

[VALE]

[align=center]

graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ 3-eyed crow

The crows CAW in warning, all together, their collective warning nearly drowning out Vale’s name. Their cawing grows ever louder as the little wildcat draws closer, yet they part to let him pass, because the cursed one never needed their assistance.

Vale regards Jack like a child grown regards a near-forgotten childhood friend. Had ve invented their interactions as a way to stave off boredom? Is the wildcat himself an apparition of Vale’s imagination? No, ve thinks not, simply because that single spoken word brought forth a torrent of memories and self-awareness.

Vale’s three red eyes blink. The right. The left. The middle. Ve considers vis options; to flee would be trivial (melt the ice, fly away, easy) and to fight to kill would be obvious. But Jack has a rare thing Vale desires: a dragon body.

So Vale waits, like a snake coiled to strike. Ve counts on the former imperator’s bovarism to bring him to ver, and ve is not disappointed.

“Things aren’t as they seem,” Vale warns, voice low and steam wafting from vis beak. How like Vale, to quote a song as vis last words.

When Jack’s teeth sink into Vale’s feathers, the rotting flesh sloughs off the bones. The stink overwhelms the senses. How to describe carrion? Is it a choking, sweet-sour smell drowning your lungs? Is it a mouthful of insect larvae desperate to crawl into the warmth of your throat? Is it a lingering dread born out of kinship, the understanding your body, too, will decompose?

While the abandoned body slumps between Jack’s teeth, Vale crawls into Jack’s skull. You know the pocket of air between your eye and your eyelids? Yes, the place where the skinsuit doesn’t fit. You played with it as a child, pinching your nose in a vice and squeezing your lips shut as you exhaled with all your might. Air finds a way to escape through the smallest of places.

So, too, do the uninvited worm their way into the living.

Your skin itches. Everywhere, faintly, but you can ignore it. For now. Now that you’ve been reminded your skin itches, you feel it… don’t you? Everywhere. How your nose twitches. The spot on your back where your claws cannot reach, where your teeth can never dig into, and where you could grow a melanoma and never know until the cancer consumes you.

Suddenly there comes a tapping, as of some one gently rapping… there is a thought, an ill-formed notion rubbing against your mind, one part rawness and two parts the prickle of sleeping nerves and otherwise words, words, words.

Darkness there and nothing more. Darkness there and nothing more. Darkness there and nothing more!

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[j a c k .]

WINTER CANNOT BE CHAINED

— THE FIRST FROST IS OVER, BUT IT WILL NEVER LEAVE US

The easiest spell was one cast on someone willing.

Crows part and caw in warning- but even they refuse to step closer towards the small frame of the aspect. Some semblance of leashed control exhaling in relief at the sight. Carrion had such a sour taste, but the sweet blood and satisfaction of an easy execution was enough to settle the apatite. Once avaricious tempered in time, Jack's body slumber in relief even among the company of a murder, the body underneath his paws was warm and tantalizing. blood coated his ice like a welcome home.

He felt full, satisfied.

unnerved.

To eat another, someone with sentience and willing participate in the enjoyment of it's death. Jack had made peace with being a murderer since Silent's reign. Back when he was eager and left alone, it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling- as his accomplishment rang hollow even in the eve of the day. The crows around him shuffling in wait for something and jack pulled back. Once red fur stained red and dripping. Sinew caught between teeth.

Jack felt hollow, as the vermin crawled between the crevices of his logic and settled.

Suddenly, he felt it

a ticking.

a soft tap that echoed in his head, and the presence, was what set off.

Careful frost in his bones froze his body like ice on a lake, shooting between limbs and he struggled suddenly- to make it stop. A force of nature under the leash of another- he pulled, tugged- trashed. But where was a parasite but inside. Crawling between what Jack once saw joy in fading in the other's eyes- logic & reason gone, Jack took to instict. Something distictly not fa, but something darker.

It called like a tundra in his veins, and he was swept under the tide of it.

Shifting was a painful sensation, even as the adrenalin pumped through his soft frame. Ice caught, and froze the nearby water completly. ice branching from between now scalled paws as Jack's form grew in size. Doubled, quadrupled, until a being as large as the corpse god's form shook the very air, shifting with fur scattering. The once murder caught in the ice the few that were too slow to not flee at the sight of the encroaching ice.

Vey... were there. Presence inside his mind and shadowing every action. He felt it at each breath, rattle that stung with each inhale of the hot humid air. "[glow=#687C97,2,300][glow=red,2,300]Cease this[/glow][/glow]" Came out of his throat like glass. Raw and gutteral. Ice colored pinpricks in a sea of maroon red.  "[glow=#687C97,2,300][glow=red,2,300]you know not what you temper with- [u]CEASE[/glow][/glow]"

It came out as a roar into the air- or did it? Jack's body was no longer his own. A body, a spirit shared. Inhabited the scales and the winter that coiled just under his scales. Each careful breath ragged but under the control of- who?

/ full permission to powerplay [member=3123]vale[/member]

[VALE]

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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ jack's mutated dragon body

Jack’s own body cuts him off with a squelch. The vocal cords collapse, spilling black ooze down his throat and out between his teeth, over his rotting gums, the little wildcat splutters. His tongue flails against his teeth, trying to bring order to random sounds, but he only succeeds in smacking down tooth after tooth.

The teeth clatter between his paws. His paws shiver.

His skin crawls as if maggots lie beneath. Perhaps it is so. The black sludge oozes out of a cut, then another, as the fur sloughs off and reveals the icy dragon beneath. Each cut is a thought manifested.

The thoughts are Vale and Vale is the thoughts—slithering and writhing, the intruder crushes Jack’s mind like a kraken crushes a ship.

Listen, Jack. Vale is singing for you.

Open your eyes and see
This is not my true face
If you could see my soul
As I have seen my soul
I could show it to you
It's rotten
It's poison

Vale opens Jack’s eyes. The dragon’s bloodshot eyes are not quite red, yet, but the colors clash in as the mental war continues. Well, the two eyes on vis head are not red…

The eyes opening over the dragon’s body? Those are red. Blinking asynchronously. Watching the crows orbit vis dragon body as their new god.

A beak, wicked and cruel, curved sharp as a sickle, forms out of the dragon’s head. “Jack, the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,” Vale hisses softly. Steam escapes from vis nostrils.

“So, fuck you. You eat my body, I possess yours.” Many eyes roll, not all of them seeing, as Vale erupts into laughter. “Fuck. You.”

Plucking vis crow skull off the sand, Vale holds it daintily between two claws. Frost coats the bone, but Vale does not think much on this; Jack’s fighting. The ice acts outside Vale’s command, but, when Vale spreads vis wings wide, the eruption of flame battles the winter chill creeping over the sands.

“HOW’S THIS FOR A BLOODING!”

// lyrics are from A Lesson Never Learned - Asking Alexandria, quotes taken from The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe, and powerplay permission from Wisker

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]I'M LOSING MY MIND TODAY ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Vale had been exiled from The Pitt for being the way ve are, pranks and everything, ignoring commands from Gael. Dante was surprised that he hadn't gotten exiled yet, truth be told, though he was certainly thankful for it. Of course Vale was going to be welcomed back with open arms; Dante respected the strange shapeshifter and rather liked ve's company. Vale was an interesting creature, one who was not afraid of letting vis true monster out. It was admirable really, and Dante couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he had been pitted against Vale in the scientist's fighting ring. Two monsters, one arguably worse than the other, going at each other; it would have been a show that the humans would have enjoyed.

So of course Dante would notice Vale's absence; not so much of Jack's, considering the male was often missing or hiding in his own cave, but Vale was someone who was around often - no matter what form ve took. Ve may be a crow, or a bug, Perhaps even taking the form of a young child, no one knew what form ve took until ve revealed vimself. That being said, Dante tried not to worry over Vale's absence. Ve had a right to be by vimselves, and especially so during the Blooding. (Speaking of which, he needed to make it a rule that one needs to act on their own without help, but that would be for another day.)

Flame erupted in the air, followed quickly by a roar sounding like Vale. Ve's tone was triumphant, perhaps angry but mostly triumphant at whatever ve had achieved. Dante was curious and followed where he believed the sight of flames came from. The air was chilly as he approached Vale's monsterous body, with an oily-black substance surrounding vim; an obvious sign that this form was, in fact, Vale. Dante grinned as he looked up at the massive form Vale took, recognizing it as Jack's draconic body (or what once was Jack's dragon bod). Now that was impressive.  "You've certainly outshone everyone, friend." The hybrid rumbled. "I welcome you now as a full Pittian, congratulations."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[VALE]

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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ jack's mutated dragon body

“Outshone?” Vale chuckled. Viscous sludge oozed between the dragon’s teeth, and dripped down the ice upon vis chin in long strings. “Outsickened, more like!”

Vale inhaled, would’ve continued ranting and raving, but the air caught in vis throat. Coughing, the bandit held a clawed hand to vis throat, clawing at the scales until blood flowed from the cuts. No, a singular gaping wound… it stretched wide, opening further as white bone calcified in jagged lumps.

Ve reached into the second mouth and tore a chunk of flesh away. All in the name of seeking the blockage, but it wasn’t a blockage, it was the thing within. The creature, the consciousness, the creation beneath the gore filter placed over the truth, for Vale is nothing but absurdity layered over the nihilism within—

SHRIEKING! from both beak and maw, the dragon took flight.

Flames and cold dissipated into the desert with each beat of the dragon’s wings. Two minds at war, two elements at war, and only one body to control.

The murder of crows took flight, following the dragon at a safe distance in the sky. CAW, CAW, CAW they called, their wordless encouragement to their three-eyed one. Only one would emerge, but how one would emerge!

// thread to be continued in tanglewoods...

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]