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Worthy
May 17, 2018 9:37:37 GMT -6
Post by Marshmallow on May 17, 2018 9:37:37 GMT -6
Get out.
The pack balked at the command. Each and every sinuous, alien shape flinched in unified offense. That this mind would resist the will of the Hive was an affront.
There was a ripple and an odd murmur among the pack. Collective heads - or what passed for heads - tilted aside to regard the stoic-faced individual staring them down. Odd-jointed limbs twitched, and half of the pack bared sickle-shaped claws. Their bodies drifted, looming up higher on their twisting coils. If this mind would not be useful, then it was expendable.
A second attempt was made. The pack needed a voice to communicate on their behalf, but time was wasting and they had no need for this small mind if it could not cooperate.
When the collective pressed in around that tiny mind and its odd shadow once more, it did so with an increased urgency and strength. The volume of their silent voices was a throbbing pressure inside one's skull. The message, such as it was, repeated. This time the images came with a twinge of something else. Impressions of claws, the sight and sound of tearing flesh. The cold, hard weight of an ultimatum. There would be no more asking.
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Worthy
Sept 23, 2018 9:52:25 GMT -6
Post by Sharei on Sept 23, 2018 9:52:25 GMT -6
The odd creatures bared their sickle-shaped claws. They loomed, growing larger, priming themselves to be hostile. Isaac felt the intention of aggression. Saw Sarkany's whitening knuckles. Heard the creak of his companion's jaw under the stress of the silent communication. He knew what was coming, so he moved before they had the chance to open with the first strike.
Or rather, the shadows moved. It lifted like some sort of bizarre blanket, a mouth of gaping darkness, and swallowed half the pack before any of them had time to reel back and away. When the bubble of black collapsed they were gone, cut from the hive mind as simply and completely as though they'd been erased. Isaac stared the others down unflinchingly, unmoved, unbothered. It was a warning - retreat, or pay the price. They'd made a mistake by coming to him under the cover of darkness. The night was his domain and they would quickly learn it.
Isaac's head turned, red eyes glowing with the promise of battle. It was an instinct he was not currently trying to suppress. "Are you alright?"
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Worthy
Oct 9, 2018 12:31:21 GMT -6
via mobile
Post by MP on Oct 9, 2018 12:31:21 GMT -6
There had always been a balance between them - an unspoken duality. Human and monster. Mover and protector. Preservation and death. Whatever one lacked, the other provided. That was how it had been in the old days, and it hadn’t changed with Her death.
Sarkany rose to match the pack-beast’s hovering, all billowing mane and sinewy coils and cold white teeth. The relief was immediate. As the man-shape fell away, he felt Her presence fading back to a watchful, secondary shadow, the command in it gone. She might warn him, prompt him, even speak for him in this shape. But She would not take him over. The main threat was gone.
Now he answered the kuwha’s question with an acknowledging flash of teeth, sharp and eager as a fox’s smile. Discomfort was nothing now that the kuwha had proved they were breakable. They were not anomalies, but animals - mortal and subject to rules like all animals. He was not afraid of a pack of whispering dogs, and their stinging intrusion only sharpened his thirst for violence. He had claws too, keener and more willing than any of the pack, and they would learn it if they didn’t retreat from his head.
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