𝙅𝙞𝙣𝙭 💣/ 𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓭𝓮𝓻 🌸 | ❝ashnikko❞ (
opheliac) wrote in
deercountry2023-04-27 11:38 am
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Entry tags:
CAN WE FIX IT?! (ROADBUILDING POST)
Who: people who signed up for this
What: infrastructure building between Trench and the city of Riteior
When: earlier this month
Where: OUT IN THE WILD
THEME SONG
— MAKE YOUR TOP-LEVELS BELOW! i got bullied into making this post.
What: infrastructure building between Trench and the city of Riteior
When: earlier this month
Where: OUT IN THE WILD
★ IC NETWORK
★ OOC REFERENCE
— MAKE YOUR TOP-LEVELS BELOW! i got bullied into making this post.
no subject
cw: madness/insanity
We always knew it would come to this
That I would be the one to eliminate you
Weedkillеr, runnin' with scissors
I made knives out of broken ribs
I will bе the one to eliminate you
Weedkiller, weedkiller
ii. MONSTER DUTY (sorta). — ❝Wait, oh. Wait, wait, wait!❞
CW: slight voices, blood, & injury by her corrupted wolf pet
I've been training for murder.
iiI. WILDCARD. — ❝let's make it worth it❞
baby, baby, you can't save me
learn to love the hell i'm raising
maybe, maybe i'm just crazy
maybe i'm the only one sayin' it.
no subject
At the moment, he's on the ground frowning at a set of tracks in the dirt when he turns at the sound of an animal.
That's no wolf. Probably. It looks like an elongated caricature by someone who only has the vaguest idea of what wolf anatomy looks like. Considering Altaïr is from the middle ages, he's seen his fair share. He knows he can't outrun a wolf, so he stands his ground. The short blade sheathed on his back is in his hand, but for some unfathomable reason, Jinx doesn't want this creature ganked by the long knife. He dodges, but she doesn't, and they're struggling on the ground.
"That beast is corrupted," he says immediately. "Your bite will get infected with it."
Altaïr does not touch either of them. He doesn't particularly like dogs, much less wolves, but he has a healthy respect for something with jaws that could take his hand off.
no subject
( she says in such abnormal smoothness in her tone. just what is it with this girl? not wanting a corrupted beast to be killed, allowing herself to get bitten, and now just sitting here with it and soothing the thing with her other hand? jinx is obviously not normal and not really showing any concern for herself when she should be. )
I'm sure someone gotta cure for it around here. Be a lil' worrying if no one got the brains to come up with one by now.
( so carefully, the teen tries the monster's mouth open in hope to set her arm free. the wolf growls quietly but due to... whatever she poured on the thing, it's not being snippy or putting any effort into attacking her. )
no subject
"That is no reason to court danger with it."
He is glad the animal seems to be limp. Barred from killing it, he cannot do much.
"Give me your arm. I'll see if I can get it clean at least. I have water and distilled alcohol, ointment and bandages. Were you already experiencing Corruption before this? What--who is this wolf?"
no subject
It's Mr.Mugsy. ( she tells him, simply. )
— He's my new lil' puppy of rip and tear. I adopted him.
( her gaze is down the animal with gentle eyes and small yet real smile. )
A lotta folks here think 'cuz they look like monsters they don't get to live. Don'tcha think that's kinda cruel? He can't help how he is, what he is, or what he was taught to do. He's just goin' on instincts.
no subject
"Well I'm not attached to dogs myself... Does he usually attack you? You cannot keep an animal that does not wish to stay."
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( there's a subtle eye twitch when the alcohol meets her wound. it doesn't sting per say, but there's an odd and null sensation that she does feel. and it's a little strange to experience due to her blood's side effect of not noticing pain ninety-eight percent of the time. )
And I don't keep him. He stays out here. I just, y'know, visit him.
no subject
"If he keeps attacking you, then aren't you just continuing to frighten him? Do you know what caused him to be frightened to begin with?"
no subject
( at least the beast isn't growling so heavily anymore. the wolf is still grumbling but it's subdued and on the drowsy side. )
Thanks for the patch-up, Bub. — I owe ya one. How about I'll fix any of your stuff if they get banged up?
no subject
"Patching up things is what you do?" There's a trace of amusement in his voice if not his expression. He just has one of those faces that makes his brows seem permanently fixed in a straight line. "Do you make them as well?"
It's not an idle question. He's been looking for a trustworthy smith to make him a secret item. He doubts he'd put his life in Jinx's hands, but the knowledge of a smith in his debt is worth tucking away.
no subject
[ wings and tail feathers wouldn’t be of much use on land-focused endeavors, so falco’s titan is fit for earth, with four limbs on the ground at all times. this nimble, five-meter tall unit is sharp on all fronts, whether it be his armored talons or saw-edged beak of bone and nasty biting power. he’s frequently seen when it’s darker than what daylight provides even on a cloudy day, and if not that, the titan lurks quietly in the shadows of untouched trees that circle thickly around the demolition area. monsters should be farther out, but they were bound to come in faster with the noise.
he’d be one of the first to make contact with whatever manic thing decided to sniff and scuttle their way over. perhaps you wish to join him when the wild is quiet. the best of both worlds would be to team up, especially when a shrieking, howling beast does rampage closer to the group.
(i am ready to rng monsters 👀) ]
DUSK
[ every two to three hours or so, a shifter (unless you’re the cart) needs breaks. falco switches in and out until he truly needs to conk out for a nap or an entire sleep cycle. he seems to be avoiding daytime, using it to rest in his much smaller, scraggly teen body with an ovoid friend to keep him comfy— but he hasn’t quite succeeded in switching up his sleeping schedule. it’s hard not to see the brightness outside, however dim, and not feel the need to walk around and keep active. he just wraps some bandages around his neck daily with a neat little scarf on top, usually in places with diminished numbers— because the last thing he wants is to draw attention to what’s underneath.
once ready, he’ll go around in the shadows to check up on others, any wounded or harmed, with his packed first aid kit and angelic buddy should and will get some prompt attention even though he’s got rings around his eyes and a pale green face that— well, he’s vileblood! being a bit green is pretty normal. at least his togekiss, confetti, brings joy and healing wherever it goes. ]
WILDCARD
(if there’s anything else that can’t be done with the vague circumstances above, feel free to hmu with something else! pm or
GUERRILHA
that said, "teen kid who can grow to sixteen feet and also a monster" is probably not impossible in Trench of all places, but it's surprising that he's not trying to actively kill him in the process, like Varian had.
so, once Falco's done the changing, Manabu peers up...up at the new shape the kid's got.
uncertainly:] Can you still understand me like that, Falco?
no subject
the thunder-rumble is not in the distance, but from his throat! ]
no subject
well, he's...impressive? it'd be wrong to call an ally ugly, but this form is definitely...
uh.
impressive.
Manabu double-blinks, then swallows.]
I, I take that as a yes... [he hesitates. so no words, huh? that might be a problem.] Maybe we...should've come up with a signal system first. How about just a thumbs-up, thumbs-down kind of thing?
no subject
falco begins using his hands for a bundle of different gestures. one will find that this in itself is a language. does trench help translate this? we sure hope so!
but what this signing means altogether is: can you understand this, sign language? ]
no subject
[crickets.]
Um. If...if you're trying to tell me something, I'm afraid I'm not quite...getting it...
no subject
Is this better?
no subject
So, so you can keep a pretty good eye out up there, yeah? Give us a warning if something's coming our way.
no subject
If there's anything else you'd need help with, Mr. Manabu, just give me a call.
[ falco gives a little grumble, and perle corrects. ]
Oh, I apologize. "Just Manabu".
no subject
Manabu breathes out a weak laugh.]
Right... I'll leave you guys to it. Let-- [he winces a little at a nearby KABOOM - that'd be Jinx, clearing the road.] Let's...let's do our best.
[which may not be too hard, he thinks...would monsters even bother messing around with something so large? are they smart enough to know better?]
no subject
cw: fungal parasitic(?) horror, magical self-harm with Corruption, monster violence (and death?)
This disturbance is well away from the main party but near enough to concern the outer net of guards. Altaïr's skills are being put to the test against a hairy jumble of very wrong octopedal limbs (on what should be a quadriped) coupled with fleshy outgrowths of a fungal interloper. Whether those are meant to grow or mitigate this Beast's Corruption is unclear. Altaïr knows a little about unruly horses, but this is ridiculous.
His sword carries the disadvantage of spilling Beastblood everywhere. Instead of veins, he stabs where he thinks the organs might be on this creature. The Beast gurgles a parody of a screeching neigh and makes a desperate charge instead of retreating like an animal should. Altaïr prepares for his own final push.
It's not, strictly speaking, safe to use a bloodstone soaked with Corruption. The former owner of the stone doesn't know about this, and the organizer of the road-building has Altaïr's word that his blood magic won't bring danger to it. Altaïr is inclined not to compromise his traveling companions just as he would not compromise the Brotherhood.
But Altaïr's blood powers are only strong when he's got that little edge. He slips the blackened stone out of one of his pouches and rapidly winds its leather strip onto his hand. If Paleblood shines with moonlight or power, this stone negates light like a pulsing void as its Corruption darkens his hand's veins.
His illusion springs from him, and the near-opaque flock of pigeons provides startling cover for his partner's next move.
+ addendum for Vi
"Opening! Take it!" he calls, ignoring the pain in his arm. He's never fought alongside her before, but he's quickly adapted to flanking with deceptive attacks and letting the brawler do what she does best.
no subject
Not her usual opening, but it's a clever cover, and she's moving beneath the birdburst toward the mess of that might have been a horse, her own feet sure beneath her as she launches and lands, heel into haunch, unsure of how much strength she needs to unbalance the beast, or if that's even possible with all the extra legs. Definitely gonna make it harder, but whatever.
Here's hoping.
She's learned not to use her bootblades unless it's absolutely necessary, and the day-in day-out of fighting trenchbeasts has bled her of some of the desire to show off. Pummels and punches keep a lot of that blood on the inside, and that's better for everyone involved, except maybe the beasts.
No time to see the blackening tendrils on his skin, but she'll spare them several glances later. Her own corruption's in even check, but it's a fine line she's walking (kicking) in these early days of her sister's resurrection. The scent of rotten flowers hangs in the air, stinging nostrils and bittering the beast's second roar as it turns to scream at its assailant.
no subject
That makes all this such a shame.
Extra legs still share the same weight of horse between them. It still falters and stumbles at Vi's onslaught. It's good to be allies(?) with a pugilist. Altair can break a bone here and there, but he'd gotten too used to dispatching enemies with one sharp slice.
He rushes in to support her and times his punches and kicks while dodging the flailing attacks of the Beast.
It's the scream of a dying animal, and it almost moves him to pity. But he believes it must be killed. He is not strong enough to get a chokehold around its neck, but he drives his boot into the flesh there. It's a hard enough hit to almost unseat the bone, but the Beast is strong in its desperation.
Another kick strong enough to break someone's knees does it. The "horse" crumples suddenly with a broken neck. There is no air of victory, only the desperate outcome of having survived.
Only then does Altaïr pay any mind to the pain in his hand from the stone clutched between shaking fingers, but he's still full of adrenaline.
"What is that smell?" he asks as he catches his breath, eyes hard and glinting.