scramasax: (1. Pre: WHAT SORCERY IS THIS)
[personal profile] scramasax
[Something's come over Anthony in the past few days.

Maybe it was loneliness, maybe it was the simmering of shame over his own cowardice in stalling in the wilderness, maybe it was the unexpected and unsettling lack of change or oddity he was experiencing, other than when that young girl'd made her downright sudden appearance.

In any case, he's restless now. The relative silence has gotten to feel smothering. The trees feel like they're closing in and when he looks at open spaces, he sees them pulling off of the landscape at an edge and rolling themselves up - him with them - like scrolls. Staying put's going to madden him again; God help him, he needs to leave.

He's already made to. He found a city in the distance - no more delaying or wading; he thought, with a pathetic pang in his heart, that perhaps this is some sort of place of second chances, and maybe he can fight to be part of something again, to deserve it, to atone - and for the first time, he didn't feel a lick of fear or misgiving on the thought of approaching. If it's crawling with pain, or evil, or wrongness, or if he's failing a test of his mind by going there... then he'll just have to face it. Have to. What's coming to him.

He fixed his mind on it, and began walking.

It's twilight now, and he's recently started following a road of continuous flat, gray stone.

And this consistent, purposed movement has left it unignorable how hungry he is. He'd foraged, back where he'd been lying low, but - it occurs to him that, as with speaking to people, he hasn't eaten anything in over a thousand years. He hadn't needed to, technically, but setting the past week against that - he's starting to feel his head swim...

And then... a shape on the side of the road catches his eye. He freezes in his tracks for a moment. Blinks wide at it.

It's a dead doe.

He takes a huffing breath. It's voiced; becomes in part a thin, cushioned sigh.

No, he doesn't have anything to prepare a deer with. But, in spite of himself, he can't seem to make himself care about the conditions. Ohh, yes, it'll have to do...

He heads for it with intent. Gives a quick eyes-narrowed look up and then down the road, in case anyone's watching. No -- no one is...

And with that, he drops onto all fours. Dives onto the carcass face first and starts tearing in. He doesn't question it - too busy eating for that, plus it's comfortable. He didn't realize he was as worn out as he was on top of being hungry until now - feels each of his joints pop, shifts his weight subtly across each of his arms and legs to ensure none of them are missed...

If you stumble by after he's gotten into dinner too much to remember to keep checking for witnesses to his roadkill-eating, then you'll see that the roadkill-eater has the face of a bird and that wrapped in warped, ragged sleeves and leggings, the bends and shapes of their limbs are more quadrupedal than bipedal.]
soft_focus: (son u gon get it now)
[personal profile] soft_focus
[The Hills of Neloi & Westermiln | The 6th]

[After a few times creeping in and out of a camping group, Reira, a new phone, and her personal headspace companion are off on their own once again. It's better that way, she thinks. As much as making new friends would be nice, she doesn't enjoy causing the stress and worry she's seen from anyone present during one of Zarc's tantrums. What started as avoidance for the sake of caution becomes avoidance for the sake of 'care'. As she wanders along the highway and eventually off the beaten path into more hilled terrain, this becomes 'easier' to accept. It's quieter here.

And even Zarc can't whine forever (though he does his best to try).

It is perhaps mid morning, after sleeping in under some tree cover, that it hits. For the most part, she hasn't been unaware of the changes her limbs are going through-obviously the arm with a glove on it was obvious, but she can see the ever growing scales along her other elbow, as well as her knees. When she wakes in the morning to roll her sleeve back and see not only bulking scales and 'muscle' (or at last what looks like it) gathering around some kind of violet stone, she feels a chill run down her spine.

It looks like Dark Rebellion's stones.

...It frightens her. Despite knowing it'll only encourage Zarc to laugh more in her head, all she can think is if this would have happened if Yuuya had resisted more. A slow, gradual descent into-
]

NGHK-

[That is about when she jumps, a shock of pain different from Zarc's typical tantrums, shoots through her rear. Zarc, in fact, makes an enormous deal about it not even being him...for whatever reason, something he'd only vaguely grumbled about once or twice while she considered the 'zarc-like' limb changes. But the girl shouts, and runs, blindly pacing the tree with her hands at her backside as if trying to find some kind of animal biting there.

There's no animal, but when she finally ends up tripping face first on the ground thanks to the aimless running-
] Yy-LLFP!

[...Sproof.

That sure is a big fluffy tail seemingly made of nothing but feathers and down.
]

[Now I Am Here, Now I Am There- | The 8th]

[She....

Is lost.

Reira holds her middle, stomach growling a bit as she wanders. It's been a few days now-there's been lots of berries at least, so she's managed to at least eat. And she managed to wander near a river too, which helps. But she's lost. She's lost, and all she can think of is finding another campfire, or finding Yuusei, or...

She could probably use the phone but admittedly the thought doesn't actually occur to her since she's not used to using phones anyway. It doesn't help that her tail is an inch or two longer either. It still looks like it's all feathers and fluff, but there's definitely something long in there, somewhere...

It's tucked in her shorts right now though.

Reira wanders. She wanders, and wanders, until finally she just squeezes her eyes shut and stiffens. She's lost, she's hungry, and Zarc is going on and on about it and whining about how she's in over her head, this is all her fault, she was at least better off with the 'duelist' (because at least then he could maybe fight the guy)-
]

Just STOP!

[Rather suddenly there's a burst of flower petals, feathers, and some kind of wind-blown dust.

And then suddenly she's elsewhere.
] Mnh?

[This happens more than once, actually.] AHH-!

[Too many times.]

KNGH- [Suffice to say she looks pretty frazzled whenever she finally comes to some kind of stop for....however long she has.]
scatteredflowers: (It reminds me of my old friends)
[personal profile] scatteredflowers
[One batch of summonings ends in the escape of the summoned. Meanwhile, many miles away, another man escapes only into the sheltering arms of sleep.

A pair of horns sits atop his head, crusted faintly with blood from their eruption and making him lean forward with their weight; otherwise, his new troll nature is barely evident. He wonders, at first, why he is awake. Then, he realizes he is asleep.

And so, he goes wandering.]




[[ooc: DREAM LOG. Post what your characters are dreaming about, and Kross will mess around in their dreams. Note that he will not enter dreams involving loud explosions, high temperatures, or excessive amounts of blood, and lower levels of chaos and violence might make him leave prematurely (but post those anyways and he'll duck in probably).

I'm expecting this post to have a long shelf life because Kross is way the fuck out in the mountains and unlikely to be doing anything but dream wandering for a while.]]

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