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The Mirror's Telling Me to Go Home//[Plastics vs. DCC vs. A]
Nov 13, 2022 17:24:13 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Nov 13, 2022 17:24:13 GMT -5
Cantara returned to her allies with her metaphorical tail between her legs. Her brief interlude with Elle Aye had clarified something for her: the transformations they’d all undergone were intensely personal. Elle had been able to wax poetic and Damion embodied the stoic Alpha. And Cantara?
She’d found bloodlust lurked within.
It wasn’t clear to her how much Cash had changed, other than his sickening smell. She’d found him and Damion by the sickly sweet breeze. At least it was better than the blood waterfall. They’d walked away from the atrocity hopefully for the last time.
After so many nights in the arena Cantara found that she couldn’t bring herself to fight for a defensible campsite. As soon as Cash slowed she simply collapsed in a bundle of dark fur and low grade fever. She dreamt of Elle Aye who had transformed into a space fairy and danced round and around the moon.
She woke, shivering. In the soft dawn light it's clear the cornucopia's Cathedral is little more than ruins propped up on stone pillars. At least it smells like rot and decay instead of the stomach twisting disgust that coated everything at the Falls. Clearing the sleep from her eyes, Cantara yawns wide, so wide that she rounds it out with a soft whine.
And in the echo of the sound pinging through the pillars she hears something else. Something soft. Something mortal.
Immediately she scrambles to all fours, snout in the air. She's aware that Cash and Damion were speaking before she woke. That's surprising. What could they possibly have to discuss without her? But that thought is too thorny to pick through so she files it away for later, beckons with her stained gold claws, and slinks into the shadows.
There's four others in the Cathedral, but not all together, and not all the same. The one furthest from her smells particularly odd, as though someone wiped bleach over caramel. As though someone tried to erase the cloying sweet scent of danger. That was also interesting and worth exploration.
But first, she needed to establish dominance. Territory. She worked quickly, drawing the glass shard studded weapon into her lap. A swipe and the flames ignited, turning the glass blue and bronze. She brandished it, swinging it wide. "Go away," she growled. "This is our turf."
She’d found bloodlust lurked within.
It wasn’t clear to her how much Cash had changed, other than his sickening smell. She’d found him and Damion by the sickly sweet breeze. At least it was better than the blood waterfall. They’d walked away from the atrocity hopefully for the last time.
After so many nights in the arena Cantara found that she couldn’t bring herself to fight for a defensible campsite. As soon as Cash slowed she simply collapsed in a bundle of dark fur and low grade fever. She dreamt of Elle Aye who had transformed into a space fairy and danced round and around the moon.
She woke, shivering. In the soft dawn light it's clear the cornucopia's Cathedral is little more than ruins propped up on stone pillars. At least it smells like rot and decay instead of the stomach twisting disgust that coated everything at the Falls. Clearing the sleep from her eyes, Cantara yawns wide, so wide that she rounds it out with a soft whine.
And in the echo of the sound pinging through the pillars she hears something else. Something soft. Something mortal.
Immediately she scrambles to all fours, snout in the air. She's aware that Cash and Damion were speaking before she woke. That's surprising. What could they possibly have to discuss without her? But that thought is too thorny to pick through so she files it away for later, beckons with her stained gold claws, and slinks into the shadows.
There's four others in the Cathedral, but not all together, and not all the same. The one furthest from her smells particularly odd, as though someone wiped bleach over caramel. As though someone tried to erase the cloying sweet scent of danger. That was also interesting and worth exploration.
But first, she needed to establish dominance. Territory. She worked quickly, drawing the glass shard studded weapon into her lap. A swipe and the flames ignited, turning the glass blue and bronze. She brandished it, swinging it wide. "Go away," she growled. "This is our turf."
[Cantara attacks Chiara de Soto; flaming Spiked Blunt (improv)]
27_UOdWsdsspiked blunt
[BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]
1-50
[+4 fire dmg]
Accuracy - Day 5
spiked blunt
[BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]
[Title lyrics from "Edge of Midnight" by Miley Cyrus]
27_UOdWsdsspiked blunt
[BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]
1-50
[+4 fire dmg]
Accuracy - Day 5
spiked blunt
[BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]
[Title lyrics from "Edge of Midnight" by Miley Cyrus]
spiked blunt·50·spiked blunt
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