[Next time. What a sobering thought. Because from what Basil has been able to tell, they'll have to do this monthly at the bare minimum, barring help from something dried or prepackaged in-between. Max can only tell the truth, so he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she means this.
He's glad she can't see the look on his face right now, the way it tenses and becomes ugly, however brief. Maybe...if he pretends it's all a bad dream, it will be easier.
But of course, Basil knows that won't even be necessary. His instincts...they're strong enough that they will take over when the time comes.
Sniffing, Basil reluctantly draws away after a moment, just long enough to work a smile back onto his features as he pushes himself up to stand.]
I know. N-next time...we'll figure it out together.
[For right now, though...it's time for him to go. He already has an idea for the best way to go about this, seeing as how so many humans are already gathered at an unfortunately convenient location. Distracted, possibly already injured...he won't have to waste time trying to hunt someone down.
What Basil does take the time to do is pull his blanket off his bed, letting it fall around Max's shoulders so she'll be able to keep some semblance of warm while he's gone. Then, knowing he won't actually be able to keep going if he doesn't just...go, he tears his gaze away and leaves.
Leaving Max alone...her only company being the music, and the soft glow of a few bioluminescent flower petals that Basil's horns dropped as he left.
She will be here for several hours before Basil's return is heralded by the sound of his footsteps through the halls. Or, more specifically, the way he drags his feet, his talons scraping the wood as he slowly climbs the stairs to his room. He can't quite help how honestly horrific he must look as he emerges from the dark hallway, the glow of his horns casting a new, terrible light over him now. He is covered, absolutely drenched in blood and lake water. His entire face and snout are saturated, and the front of his overalls is stained a deep, almost blackened crimson. Every breath he takes brings with it a slight puff of smoke, blood occasionally dripping from his open mouth.
He barely remembers killing them. The spirit at the lake had done a wonderful job of hypnotizing all who came too near, and fortunately Basil had been too far gone, too smothered by instinct to fall victim. In the end, a human- nondescript- had been floundering in the edge of the water, still alive yet trying to push themselves in deeper despite their legs having been rendered useless by the fish ripping them to shreds deeper in. They would have died a miserable death from blood loss, leaving Basil's interference a mercy.
At least, that's what he'd been telling himself, begging himself to believe as his fangs sunk into their neck.
He carries in his arms strips of flesh ripped from the body, completely divorced from the corpse in such a way that he can only hope it looks less like what it is, and more like...well. What it is: raw, bloody meat. That's what he brings in, his eyes wide and tinged red, every scale on his body extended and rattling dully as he slowly sinks to his knees about a foot away from where he'd left her.]
H- Hee...here...
[He had almost thought about trying to torch it with his flames, wondering if that would make it easier and more palatable for Max, but...it's likely better this way. "Fresh" is the name of the game, after all.
As for Basil, he doesn't need it. He's had his fill, and feels simultaneously more alive and more miserable than ever.]
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timeasmymeasure
cw: extreme cannibalism/blood/gore/disassociation
Date: 2023-05-13 10:46 pm (UTC)He's glad she can't see the look on his face right now, the way it tenses and becomes ugly, however brief. Maybe...if he pretends it's all a bad dream, it will be easier.
But of course, Basil knows that won't even be necessary. His instincts...they're strong enough that they will take over when the time comes.
Sniffing, Basil reluctantly draws away after a moment, just long enough to work a smile back onto his features as he pushes himself up to stand.]
I know. N-next time...we'll figure it out together.
[For right now, though...it's time for him to go. He already has an idea for the best way to go about this, seeing as how so many humans are already gathered at an unfortunately convenient location. Distracted, possibly already injured...he won't have to waste time trying to hunt someone down.
What Basil does take the time to do is pull his blanket off his bed, letting it fall around Max's shoulders so she'll be able to keep some semblance of warm while he's gone. Then, knowing he won't actually be able to keep going if he doesn't just...go, he tears his gaze away and leaves.
Leaving Max alone...her only company being the music, and the soft glow of a few bioluminescent flower petals that Basil's horns dropped as he left.
She will be here for several hours before Basil's return is heralded by the sound of his footsteps through the halls. Or, more specifically, the way he drags his feet, his talons scraping the wood as he slowly climbs the stairs to his room. He can't quite help how honestly horrific he must look as he emerges from the dark hallway, the glow of his horns casting a new, terrible light over him now. He is covered, absolutely drenched in blood and lake water. His entire face and snout are saturated, and the front of his overalls is stained a deep, almost blackened crimson. Every breath he takes brings with it a slight puff of smoke, blood occasionally dripping from his open mouth.
He barely remembers killing them. The spirit at the lake had done a wonderful job of hypnotizing all who came too near, and fortunately Basil had been too far gone, too smothered by instinct to fall victim. In the end, a human- nondescript- had been floundering in the edge of the water, still alive yet trying to push themselves in deeper despite their legs having been rendered useless by the fish ripping them to shreds deeper in. They would have died a miserable death from blood loss, leaving Basil's interference a mercy.
At least, that's what he'd been telling himself, begging himself to believe as his fangs sunk into their neck.
He carries in his arms strips of flesh ripped from the body, completely divorced from the corpse in such a way that he can only hope it looks less like what it is, and more like...well. What it is: raw, bloody meat. That's what he brings in, his eyes wide and tinged red, every scale on his body extended and rattling dully as he slowly sinks to his knees about a foot away from where he'd left her.]
H- Hee...here...
[He had almost thought about trying to torch it with his flames, wondering if that would make it easier and more palatable for Max, but...it's likely better this way. "Fresh" is the name of the game, after all.
As for Basil, he doesn't need it. He's had his fill, and feels simultaneously more alive and more miserable than ever.]