Post by carcinoGeneticist on Feb 19, 2011 17:46:49 GMT -5
RIP Slugger, you little freakshow.
Warnings for grossness.
It had lost him.
It didn't know how it had happened, it had been wearing its slug form at the time. That was the form Father preferred it to wear, because it was more easily hidden. Sometimes, when it thought about that too much, it felt sad. It didn't want to be hidden. It wanted to walk beside him, holding his hand, and see the world. Not tucked away into a small bag and kept away from the world But it wouldn't complain. It got to be close to him, and that was all it wanted.
But there was something wrong. The childling could feel the tension radiating from him in waves, and that just didn't add up. In the background, it could hear the chatter of voices (his, and that of a woman, and a low indistinct murmuring from all around) and smell the harsh burning of the special drink. Normally, those things were good signs for its Father. They meant it would need to behave especially well, but he would be happier in the end. That meant it would be happier, too.
But... the tension only got stronger. Even stranger, they kept picking up and moving, the cold of outside punctuating the warmth from indoors. That was the truly confusing part.
The Bad Time happened when they were outside. It could hear people speaking, but couldn't make out the words. Two male voices, Father and an unfamiliar one, and then the tension had broken into something physical. Fighting. The childling understood fighting well enough, knew that its job was to stay out of the way unless it was called on. Usually, it was not. He was too proud to use it in a fight, and it didn't mind. Fighting was frightening. When the pouch it was resting in was tossed aside, it felt the first tendrils of panic. But no, it was alright. It just wasn't safe for it in the middle of the fight.
The sounds of pain and grunting moved farther away from it. Then, finally, there was quiet.
The childling curled into a slimy little ball at the bottom of the pouch, trying hard not to think about this. Father would be back. Father would check to make sure it was not hurt, and then they would go back to the bars and the woman. Father would get to have sex, and then they would all go back home and it wouldn't be alone anymore. The scythe-woman would be there, too, and she would give it a hug and smile at it.
No one came. There was no sound from outside, just an unnatural quiet. It waited as long as it could stand, and then pushed its way out of the sack. As soon as it could feel air on its skin, it changed to its more normal form, sticking a finger into its mouth and chewing on it in a nervous tic.
Completely alone. It called out into the darkness, but there was no answer - not even an echo.
Lost, lost, lost. The childling was lost. It started to wail, fell into a complete tantrum, beat its fists and screamed.
Nothing. Even when it scraped its hands up on the ground so badly that it bled, no one came.
Finally, it realized that just waiting here and making noise would not do it any good at all, and it started to walk. It had not seen where its Father had come from, and it had no idea where he had gone. It just picked a random direction and started walking. There was a fire burning a few streets down, so it headed in that general direction. Maybe the fire would have attracted people. Maybe Father had been the cause.
But as it got closer, it also got more and more frightened. It didn't know if Father would even be there, and if he wasn't, it didn't know if the people would be willing to help it. What if they attacked it? It started to tremble, wringing its hands in front of it.
It was at that moment that it caught a flash of greenish-white out of the corner of its eye and realized that there was something behind it, following it. It turned, wide-eyed, and came face-to-face with a Card. How long had it been there? Did it even matter? She was staring at it with an intensity he'd rarely seen before.
It was clearly another child of Father's. It could tell, though it wasn't entirely sure why - the other aspects of the child were completely foreign to it. It had never seen her before, either. But it knew. And in that knowledge, it felt relief. It let out a happy little cry, jumping forward to embrace the girl and press its face into her neck.
She went stiff for a moment, then turned her head to sniff at the boy-creature. It didn't understand why, but it could feel her relax as soon as she had sniffed all over his hair. "Good-smell. Smell like dream-smell." she said softly, sounding almost as giddy as it felt. The words didn't make any sense, but it enjoyed them all the same. It pulled back and beamed at her, and she opened her beak in a smile. Her eyes were glassy and seemed sightless, but it was focused on her in an oddly intense way. She seemed to be trying to look at its hands, and questioningly, it raised them.
The blood was dark in the low light. It whimpered when she moved her head forward, nosing them, blood smearing on her beak. A tongue darted out, lightning fast, and tasted it.
Everything about the girl's stance changed. She turned to the boy-creature, practically shivering with what seemed to be excitement.
"She looks for sooooo long, and finally, she finds... Cat finds for her... All for her..."
The childling found itself suddenly seized in another tight hold, quite a lot like the hug from before but... Somehow, critically different. It felt nervous, and pushed at the girl, trying to put some distance between them.
But there were claws in its back, holding it securely in place. It tried to yelp, tried to show her that she was hurting it in her excitement. She seemed deaf to its please, instead lunging and pushing it to the ground. It screamed, terrified. It pushed at her, tried to throw her off, but she was far more strong than it. Tears filled its eyes as she slammed it down again, arms and legs pinned by dagger-sharp talons.
What was she doing to it?! This... this didn't make sense!
It drew in a sharp gasp as it felt something sharp tear into its gut, and when it strained to look, it saw the girl digging her beak into its skin. There was blood everywhere, pouring out of the wound. It heard flesh rip, saw the girl's head jerk back with something red enclosed in her mouth, and then its vision started to fade.
But it didn't fade completely. Not yet.
The childling watched with dull shock and horror as the child, blood of its Father, dug into it. It watched as its flesh was ripped and cast aside, opening the abdominal cavity to get at the tender organ meats within. It tried to scream, but it couldn't - it was having trouble breathing, too. There was so much blood. Had all that blood come from within it? Its vision faded again, then went dark.
~~~
Her stomach was still somewhat full from the small meal she'd had before, from Tiger-Cat's corpse, but from that first little taste of blood, she had understood. She just had to be sure, before she proceeded with this meal. She pulled the tiniest sliver of flesh from one of the abdominal muscles, held it in her mouth, then swallowed it.
She shivered, but it was not a bad shiver.
A moment later, she was vomiting in the gutter, emptying her belly of her earlier meal. Once she was completely empty, ready to consume as much of this odd little thing as she could, she turned back to it. She should share it with her brothers, she reflected. She would share with them.
After she was done.
Warnings for grossness.
It had lost him.
It didn't know how it had happened, it had been wearing its slug form at the time. That was the form Father preferred it to wear, because it was more easily hidden. Sometimes, when it thought about that too much, it felt sad. It didn't want to be hidden. It wanted to walk beside him, holding his hand, and see the world. Not tucked away into a small bag and kept away from the world But it wouldn't complain. It got to be close to him, and that was all it wanted.
But there was something wrong. The childling could feel the tension radiating from him in waves, and that just didn't add up. In the background, it could hear the chatter of voices (his, and that of a woman, and a low indistinct murmuring from all around) and smell the harsh burning of the special drink. Normally, those things were good signs for its Father. They meant it would need to behave especially well, but he would be happier in the end. That meant it would be happier, too.
But... the tension only got stronger. Even stranger, they kept picking up and moving, the cold of outside punctuating the warmth from indoors. That was the truly confusing part.
The Bad Time happened when they were outside. It could hear people speaking, but couldn't make out the words. Two male voices, Father and an unfamiliar one, and then the tension had broken into something physical. Fighting. The childling understood fighting well enough, knew that its job was to stay out of the way unless it was called on. Usually, it was not. He was too proud to use it in a fight, and it didn't mind. Fighting was frightening. When the pouch it was resting in was tossed aside, it felt the first tendrils of panic. But no, it was alright. It just wasn't safe for it in the middle of the fight.
The sounds of pain and grunting moved farther away from it. Then, finally, there was quiet.
The childling curled into a slimy little ball at the bottom of the pouch, trying hard not to think about this. Father would be back. Father would check to make sure it was not hurt, and then they would go back to the bars and the woman. Father would get to have sex, and then they would all go back home and it wouldn't be alone anymore. The scythe-woman would be there, too, and she would give it a hug and smile at it.
No one came. There was no sound from outside, just an unnatural quiet. It waited as long as it could stand, and then pushed its way out of the sack. As soon as it could feel air on its skin, it changed to its more normal form, sticking a finger into its mouth and chewing on it in a nervous tic.
Completely alone. It called out into the darkness, but there was no answer - not even an echo.
Lost, lost, lost. The childling was lost. It started to wail, fell into a complete tantrum, beat its fists and screamed.
Nothing. Even when it scraped its hands up on the ground so badly that it bled, no one came.
Finally, it realized that just waiting here and making noise would not do it any good at all, and it started to walk. It had not seen where its Father had come from, and it had no idea where he had gone. It just picked a random direction and started walking. There was a fire burning a few streets down, so it headed in that general direction. Maybe the fire would have attracted people. Maybe Father had been the cause.
But as it got closer, it also got more and more frightened. It didn't know if Father would even be there, and if he wasn't, it didn't know if the people would be willing to help it. What if they attacked it? It started to tremble, wringing its hands in front of it.
It was at that moment that it caught a flash of greenish-white out of the corner of its eye and realized that there was something behind it, following it. It turned, wide-eyed, and came face-to-face with a Card. How long had it been there? Did it even matter? She was staring at it with an intensity he'd rarely seen before.
It was clearly another child of Father's. It could tell, though it wasn't entirely sure why - the other aspects of the child were completely foreign to it. It had never seen her before, either. But it knew. And in that knowledge, it felt relief. It let out a happy little cry, jumping forward to embrace the girl and press its face into her neck.
She went stiff for a moment, then turned her head to sniff at the boy-creature. It didn't understand why, but it could feel her relax as soon as she had sniffed all over his hair. "Good-smell. Smell like dream-smell." she said softly, sounding almost as giddy as it felt. The words didn't make any sense, but it enjoyed them all the same. It pulled back and beamed at her, and she opened her beak in a smile. Her eyes were glassy and seemed sightless, but it was focused on her in an oddly intense way. She seemed to be trying to look at its hands, and questioningly, it raised them.
The blood was dark in the low light. It whimpered when she moved her head forward, nosing them, blood smearing on her beak. A tongue darted out, lightning fast, and tasted it.
Everything about the girl's stance changed. She turned to the boy-creature, practically shivering with what seemed to be excitement.
"She looks for sooooo long, and finally, she finds... Cat finds for her... All for her..."
The childling found itself suddenly seized in another tight hold, quite a lot like the hug from before but... Somehow, critically different. It felt nervous, and pushed at the girl, trying to put some distance between them.
But there were claws in its back, holding it securely in place. It tried to yelp, tried to show her that she was hurting it in her excitement. She seemed deaf to its please, instead lunging and pushing it to the ground. It screamed, terrified. It pushed at her, tried to throw her off, but she was far more strong than it. Tears filled its eyes as she slammed it down again, arms and legs pinned by dagger-sharp talons.
What was she doing to it?! This... this didn't make sense!
It drew in a sharp gasp as it felt something sharp tear into its gut, and when it strained to look, it saw the girl digging her beak into its skin. There was blood everywhere, pouring out of the wound. It heard flesh rip, saw the girl's head jerk back with something red enclosed in her mouth, and then its vision started to fade.
But it didn't fade completely. Not yet.
The childling watched with dull shock and horror as the child, blood of its Father, dug into it. It watched as its flesh was ripped and cast aside, opening the abdominal cavity to get at the tender organ meats within. It tried to scream, but it couldn't - it was having trouble breathing, too. There was so much blood. Had all that blood come from within it? Its vision faded again, then went dark.
~~~
Her stomach was still somewhat full from the small meal she'd had before, from Tiger-Cat's corpse, but from that first little taste of blood, she had understood. She just had to be sure, before she proceeded with this meal. She pulled the tiniest sliver of flesh from one of the abdominal muscles, held it in her mouth, then swallowed it.
She shivered, but it was not a bad shiver.
A moment later, she was vomiting in the gutter, emptying her belly of her earlier meal. Once she was completely empty, ready to consume as much of this odd little thing as she could, she turned back to it. She should share it with her brothers, she reflected. She would share with them.
After she was done.
