deercountry | ☣️ the court, the church, love, all left behind

Entry tags:

☣️ the court, the church, love, all left behind | OPEN

Who: Bigby the Abomination, OPEN
What: Catch-all for January! Includes a prompt for the Snake Den and Shedding Ceremony. Prompts will be broken up into comments for ease of finding and tracking.
When: January
Where: Snake Den and other various locations

Content Warnings: References to severe depression, self-loathing, forced transformation/body horror, torture, and religious zealotry. Snakeden is considerably lighter in tone if that's what you're looking for. Crimson curse prompt includes cannibalism, gore, and body horror.

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[This was a very bad idea.

He's been injured near his great veins before. He's even done it deliberately, now and again--for sometimes the gods demand blood sacrifice. It is only that, that keeps him from bolting in the first instants after Bigby's teeth sink into his flesh. The rush of adrenaline that follows the injury is in no way welcome; it's not heady thrill of battle joined or a near escape but a fear that sends ice down his spine.]

Bigby-- [The shrike's voice pitches up with alarm, fangs shutting with a snap on the last syllable. His grip on his friend tightens, fingers indenting flesh.]

[For a moment he is lost in it, the sensation. He's overwhelmed the way he wants, his body howling for more and more. The way it craves for flesh, meat, blood, everything, except as he is now he's allowed himself to become everything that anyone has ever said about him. A monster, an abomination.

Ah, but he is not without realizing who Illarion is. He still has those memories, after all. So for a moment again, he debates -- does he delve into his beasthood, or does he resist?

And he can only meet partway. Horns have grown out of his skull, his fingers ending in horrible green claws. Eventually, he does pull back, but not without more greedy gulps; dark is smeared over his mouth, joining the rest of the blood stains he has previously indulged in.

Only this time, there's the tinge of regret.]

Run from me. Right now.

[The last memory Illarion's future-self has of life is bleeding to death--the creeping gray advance of shock as his heart struggled to beat against the blood surrounding it. Being drunk dry by a bigger predator doesn't echo that but it rhymes in the fog before his eyes and the swoon threatening to drag him down. He fights it, fights that and not the f(r)iend fastened on to his throat because he promised, he promised everything but his death and he's nothing if not loyal unto that...

He staggers when released, blinking and stunned so that he almost doesn't hear what's said to him. His hand goes to his wounded neck, his eyes to the changes warping Bigby's form. The first glittering wisps of sublimating Darkblood that escape between his fingers thicken and coalesce into a beast six feet tall at the shoulder, his Omen as changed as he is. She bares teeth in mute threat but does nothing more, much as Illarion does nothing but stare at Bigby for a long moment in mingled horror and heartbreak.

He'd done this so, so poorly and he wouldn't pay the worst for it.]

((I'm so sorry.))

[The words hurt to say.

It hurts more to turn and run, fast as he can, with Iskierka bounding after.]

Edited 2022-01-24 05:49 (UTC)

[The apology echoes in in his mind, the last bit that Bigby hears as he's just barely human enough to understand. He clutches at his head, and suddenly wishes he was anything but the monster he's become. There is no longer any joy or satisfaction in it, even as he can't control it as he relinquished it what feels like long ago. The poison of his tainted blood and the Crimson Curse are too much to battle against.]

Stop-- stop, not now, you blasted beast!

[But it's too late.

The abomination transforms, and he howls out his call before he's bounding after prey, following that smell dusting the air.

So the hunt is on, so horribly.]

["Run, and lead you a merry chase." Already Illarion's own hubris comes back to haunt him.

The shrike's been both hunted and hunter before. Experience from both sides says he can't run for long when he's bleeding as badly as he is, whatever adrenaline and Sleeper endurance lend him. He needs somewhere to hide and staunch the flow, recoup enough of himself to think and have a better plan for what in all the gods' names he's going to do when he's found again--

Because to simply go to ground somewhere out of reach and wait for the abomination to lose his scent is to turn his hunter loose on some other innocent.

Trench at least is replete with places to hide, with dark little alleys and abandoned buildings full of cobwebbed cellars. Illarion ducks into a gap between two dilapidated row houses, nearly stumbling, and takes in his options at an glance: Rickety fire escape, empty basement, empty basement with a crumbling staved-in wall.

He picks the last, stepping through the brick and crumbling masonry into temporary shelter. (The edges of the world kaleidoscope around him, warning him he doesn't have many of these little jaunts in him.) He goes to a knee, digging through pockets for a little bundle of gauze to jam against the wound, and pray.

Iskierka halts right in the mouth of the alley, barring the way--for all she's only smoke and Darkblood--with all her feathers on end and wing-arms upraised to make herself look as big as possible. She screeches an ear-splitting challenge at their pursuer: Fight her!]

[The hunt is on once again with Illarion -- only this time, it is the abomination who chases down his friend, as best as he is able. Bigby has fought as much as he could to give Illarion the head start, but in the end he is still a predator, running through the streets and chasing that smell.

And he will slow down, especially now since Bigby has just fed.

Though Iskierka is in his way, there's no hesitation. For to the beast, it is another meal if possible, and mindlessly he rushes forward with a wild scream, howling. Launching himself, he aims to plow into her, ram her into a wall.]

[An Omen may be solid enough to ride or carry objects for her Sleeper, and she may be able to fend off beasts--but however good a show she gives, Iskierka can't truly fight.

She still gives it her best try. She doesn't bother to dodge, holding the line as she is; she's thrown into the wall with a hollow crunch and a wave of smoke. Insubstantial teeth snap at the beast's face and insubstantial talons rake at his belly. Each thrashing attack further scents the air with Illarion's blood.

In the basement, the shrike listens to the battle and holds pressure on his throat. The gray haze in front of his eyes makes it harder to see his next move--a stairwell up, maybe, to tree himself higher in the building. A suggestion this basement connects to the next by a boarded-up hall, but would the abomination follow through that small a space...

He's slowing already. The length of this chase will be measured in minutes, not hours, if his stars are with him.]

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☣️ the court, the church, love, all left behind | OPEN

it was then illarion realized he f***ed up

darkest dungeon where the vampires and the werewolves are not what u expect

in the grim darkness of the dungeon there is only vore

i cant believe how many threads i have vored in sa;dlkfh

everyone lining up to be eaten by bigby "the abomination" sadman is extremely DWRP

i should've known no one could resist

as bigby is drawn to his tasty friends, so are we drawn...