polarvoid | Inbox for ryslig

[The sudden gout of flame that seems to explode from Max's direction works twofold. One, to burn that one boy alive...and two, to free the other from Basil's vines. The vines, though not yet directly torched by flames, wither and coil back away from the heat that warps the air, and before he can recollect himself he feels them snap off, the resulting momentum causing Basil to stagger and nearly fall back. It does mean he's able to mover further away from the heat, though, because he can feel the grassy hair on his head being singed by the proximity. It terrifies him, prompting him to bring his arms around himself and rub at his elbows and forearms with his hands, as if to put out an imaginary flame.

All at once, one of those boys is most certainly dead. One other is alive but disoriented, choking as he takes in huge gulps of air to catch his breath again. The third is, as of this moment, unharmed...but it looks like he's seconds from running away at this point.

As it happens, Basil...can do nothing. He can't stop her, nor can he get any closer to pull that other boy away from the flames as he watches his friend die in front of him. He can only look on, once more trapped in headlights.]

[ Basil is, in many ways, trapped watching just as the humans are, as Max, stressed and upset and fueled with such an urge to rip and tear and kill, spies the...fuzzy but general direction of the third boy, who has began backing away.

Away? No. No, that won't do.

She snaps her jaws closed, ceasing the flame, and the boy she'd caught in the blast—his charred body drops to the sidewalk. In the same moment, she starts forward, jerking her head toward the remaining humans, and reopens her mouth. Fire spews out just a little too far to the right for it catch both of them...or even the entirety of one of them. The boy preparing to run has his lower body and right arm completely aflame, screaming in horror as he collapses.

And Max...isn't done. No, a screech emits from her jaws, one that's much more animalistic than not. Her eyes are set on the last target standing, the one she'd gone after to begin with...but there's a problem.

In her state, she's forgotten that energy feeders require live prey, not dead. Energy feeder, that is what she partly is. That is what her body's hungering for...yet the hunting instincts tell her to kill.

One boy wails in agony, quickly going into shock. He'll be dead soon. The other, choking, is Max's next target. If both die, they'll have to find someone new. ]

[This is messy. It's not going at all to plan, and now instead of one body on their conscience...there's going to be three. Can Basil even do anything, now? The first boy...he very well might live, assuming he's let go and can escape. One of them is very much dead now, a still-smoldering corpse, and then the third...he's alive, but barely. Currently burning to death as they speak, and unless he got medical help immediately, he couldn't be saved. But even then, Basil isn't sure anything could be done in time.

The heat is so overwhelmingly intense that Basil can't get close. It's creating an invisible barrier as much as a physical one, because even just the proximity is enough to cause his eyes to water and his body to start singing in the process. Any closer to the open flames, and he- too- will be set alight. The boy Basil had ensnared, now free, could potentially be getting away soon if something doesn't change.

Frantic, Basil backs closer to the fence, and desperate to do something, anything, he screams.]

Max!! Max, stop! You have to stop!!

[ A noise. Max snarls, jaws pressed together and teeth bared as she turns her hazy gaze in Basil's direction. It's important that she close her mouth. She had to close her mouth, because the noise is—

Even in this state, she won't hurt Basil. Even though she lumbers forward, though her unfocused eyes glaring at him, she will not hurt him. A low grunt of resistance reverberates in her chest. She doesn't feel like she's done hunting. She can't just stop hunting.

The living but injured boy reaches out his unburned arm, unburdened with blisters and sizzling flesh, toward his living friend. He tries to incoherently call out for help, and the other boy begins to back away.

That brings back Max's attention, and she roars.

If Basil does something, he has to do it now. ]

[As Max surged forward, her movements wobbly and uncoordinated, Basil yelps. He...knows Max won't hurt him. Doesn't he?

But when he was in a similar state, he would have very willingly ripped Bakugo's throat out, had he not been stopped. But that can't be the same as what's happening now, right? She's not starved, she's just...

Basil looks over quickly to the boy dying on the ground, and it's truly awful to watch. Not only have they taken one life tonight, but three...and if Basil doesn't do something, it's going to be more than that. Yet even as he watches the other boy- alive, with the chance to run- there's a part of him...the human, empathetic part, that wants nothing more than to let him go.

If he dies here, he won't come back. Not like they all can. You don't come back from this.

Choose to save one life, or ultimately many?

...

With a sob welling up in his chest, Basil acts. His vines whip out a second time, only this time he has no intention of letting go. He reaches for the boy, wrapping them tight around his torso while avoiding his neck entirely, tight enough to keep him bound and unable to run, while also forcing him to stumble back towards Basil. And instead of putting the boy between him and Max, Basil ensures that he keeps the boy just at his side, almost behind him.

He's been spared so long as he stands close to Basil, but only for a few minutes.]

[ Vines, she hates vines, and the moment they come out, Max's roar turns to a yelp. She wants them to go away—but that's Basil. But that's...Basil, with her prey...

For a good, long thirty seconds, Max's brain turns itself in circles, around conflicting instincts and urges and feelings. There's the girl, there's the bug, there's the dragon, and they're all fighting to be the dominant voice.

A growl vibrates in Max's throat, dying down until it becomes a whine, smoke slipping from her mouth through her teeth. ]

Ba- Basil—

[ Her voice breaks. Her voice, which feels foreign and strange in her mouth. Sounds strange to her ears. ]

Wha- what- did I just—?

[ Her eyes pass over Basil and the restrained boy, to the cooked corpse on the ground, and the last dying breaths of the other. ]

Edited 2023-08-01 06:45 (UTC)

[There's a weighty silence that shrouds the space between them both, now that two of the three boys are dead and dying. The third could be screaming, crying, cursing them both...but he's just lucky to still be alive, and seems wise enough to hold his breath while Basil has him ensnared in his vines again. If he didn't, he'd have been cooked alive just like the other two, and he knows that.

But if he did start crying, Basil wouldn't blame him.

He can't keep looking. He has to turn his face away from the bodies, even the boy who is still alive but barely. It feels cruel to leave him there as he gasps his last, but what could they do? He would die on the way to a clinic, and even then...most other monsters would likely find it a waste. Waste not...

Right now, he tries to keep his focus on Max, who seems to have finally regained her senses, if only briefly. He knows that it's not going to be for long, not until she's actually fed.]

...we need to get into the park.

[He whispers, grave. They need to hurry before they attract any more attention, and if they're lucky, some hapless humans won't stumble on those corpses on the sidewalk before they can return to do something about them.]

[ Basil's voice draws her gaze away from the boys on the ground, the corpse and the soon-to-be. That...isn't much better, because it means she has a great view of the first boy. The one who provoked her, who said...horrible, heinous things to her, who instigated—but who now looks terrified, despite his silence.

It reminds her...of the stoic way Billy would—

This isn't right. This isn't...how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be quick. She was supposed to lead him back (—lead one back, she screwed up the moment she caught their eyes—) and he wasn't supposed to be aware, it was supposed to all be...

She doesn't know. But she just knows it isn't right.

Max dimly nods, feeling something rise up in her yet again, the desire to tear and rip and kill and feel the blood run over her claws. It's dizzying, and she can't look, not at the other boys (both now dead), nor at Basil and their unfortunate captive.

All she can do is walk, mouth clamped shut to prevent any more mistakes like the last one. She hurries to the park entrance, and her heart—it's beating so much, and cruelly, she just wishes it would stop. ]

Edited 2023-08-05 00:06 (UTC)

[Basil is silent as he leads the way back into the park. He wants, more than anything, to reach out and take Max's hand...but he's afraid of not keeping enough space between them, especially when he's keeping their human quarry held fast. He has to half-drag the boy to keep him stumbling along with them, which is unsurprising when they're essentially marching him off to his assured death. Basil imagines he must be thinking of ways to try to escape, assuming he isn't too shell-shocked by witnessing his friends burning to death.

It's up to Max to decide where to actually set up her ring, yet it's Basil who chooses where to actually stop. He takes them deep into the heart of the park, as far away from the streets as he can get so as to avoid attracting more unwanted attention. He feels a low buzz of anxiety thrumming constantly beneath his skin, yet somehow, he isn't shaking from it, nor does he feel any fear. He just feels...numb.

It's the same way he felt when he was helping Sunny. It was something he had to do, because he had no other choice, and no one else could do it.

He's here for Max. She's been here for him, every single time he's had to hunt like this. It's just...going to be different, this time.]

...okay. Whenever you're ready.

[ The whole walk through the park Max spends desperately trying to keep focused. Or...at least to keep from losing herself in the predator again. Feel the grass beneath her feet. Hear it crunch. Do not think about the racing breath of the boy, any of the boys, nor her trembling hands, nor how hungry she is.

Her mandibles quiver. She both does not and desperately needs to do this. When Basil comes to a stop, she keeps walking for a moment, almost bumping into the boy, who tries to jerk away one last time.

Max looks into Basil's eyes, hers fully dilated, and wordlessly nods. Every bit of her feels alert and on edge.

All she needs to do is focus on a point on the ground, and she chooses one around the boy, so Basil doesn't have to drag him any further. She feels bad enough making him do this already, the less he has to keep doing it—

Her jaw twitches as a ring of mushrooms grows out of the park grass. Basil will need to hold on tight, as the boy starts thrashing again. Starts begging, finally finding his voice again. It's directed not at Max, who he's watched kill his two friends, but at the boy holding him.

And that is, in the end, what cements his fate, as Max rushes forward and acts on instinct. She doesn't know how "energy feeding" works. Hasn't been able to wrap her head around it, even now. But all she knows is she has to—to keep this from hurting Basil anymore.

What it looks like is Max pouncing, her claws digging into the boy held immobile by Basil's vines. Except blood is...minimal. Just like scratches at the site of the puncture wounds, at his shoulders. The boy gasps and his struggling stops, wide eyes locking now with Max's as their breathing falls in sync. It's surreal, as all words just die on the victim's lips. It's unlike the hypnosis from before, though, he is clearly aware of what is happening.

But he can't stop it. None of them can anymore. Not as Max drinks in what feels like pure vitality, and the boy starts trembling instead. ]

[The way that boy turns to him...the way he starts to beg for his life, beg Basil to let him go, is something he's never going to forget. He can't put the blame on Max entirely for this either, because he's just as much a part of this as she is. They're hunting as a unit, the same way they do when Basil has to go hunting. The difference this time is...this is the first time they've hunted that it's gone this badly. Been this messy.

It's the first time one of their victims has been this actively aware of the fact that they're dying, never mind the fact that two others died pointlessly for them to get to this point.

But...for a small mercy, the moment doesn't last long, even if it is long enough to burn itself permanently into his memory. Basil forces himself to keep his hold on the boy tight with those vines, not wanting him to jolt or jerk away at the last second and set them back at square one. And though there's a part of him that...doesn't want to look, he does. He keeps his attention focused on what's going on for Max's sake, and...to respect this life they're taking, if nothing else.

It's the least he can do, as he watches Max drain this boy's very life force away. It's almost oddly peaceful, in the way it happens.

Not that Basil knows what's about to, next.]

[ Never in her life has Max experienced anything like this before. This sensation. It's like eating with no tangible food, or...like the magic from one of the boys' games. Something washing over her, and suddenly, she feels better.

There's a light glow to Max, the magic doing its job, and the boy... He grows weaker. Soon, he's sagging against Basil's vines, against Max's claws. His face is paling. It's like draining away all his vitality, and even in her surreal calm Max feels unsettled. As the boy falls out of sync with her breathing. As she can feel Basil's eyes on them. As her head's- screaming, still, despite going through this whole damn ritual, why is something in her still—

It's like a switch flips. The Faerie is satiated, but the Gargoyle still thirsts. Hasn't ripped or torn a single thing.

So Max's watering jaws open, mandibles parting, and she burrows her snout into her victim's chest, ripping away clothes and flesh, clacking against bone, tearing artery in a sudden bloody fit.

Perhaps this is the more humane end, even though it's messier. Because from the moment her fangs pierce the boy's aorta, he's gone. ]

[It happens...all so fast. The way Max drains the boy is actually almost too slow for Basil's liking, though at the very least it's a peaceful death. He's more or less being lulled to sleep as he's weakened, and soon enough he'll be too weak to keep his eyes open any longer. He'll black out, and then...that will be that. He has to hope that the boy didn't feel any pain otherwise, because-

...well. That thought gets tossed pretty much immediately, because before Basil realizes what's even happening, Max lunges. Basil feels a soundless scream catch painfully in the back of his throat as Max all but tears the guy in half right in front of him, using her mandibles and fangs to tear his chest open.

It is so violent. So bloody that Basil gets caught in the crossfire, flinching back as blood splatters on his face and clothes. His vines tighten around the now-corpse that he's more or less just propping up for Max to feast on, struggling to fight back waves of nausea over the smell of blood and death.

Basil doesn't feel the urge to rip and tear. It's bad enough that the deer deep in him wants to feast along with her, to gorge itself on flesh...but it's kept in check by the Nymph, the much more peaceful and sensitive side that would prefer to take nutrients from a corpse in a much slower manner. The two sides clash, and it makes him dizzy.

As Max tears away strips of flesh, the bones of the boy's ribcage glinting in the moonlight, Basil sobs under his breath.]

[ The dragon rejoices. Finally, finally, the aggressive need to hunt is satiated. Finally, it won't lash out at friends or allies, won't catch an unintended target in the crossfire.

That is all that's on the forefront of Max's mind, as blood slides down her jaws, her chest-mouth licking up anything that her muzzle and mandibles miss. An almost giddy sense of fulfillment, because she's free, at last, her brain reaches a zen calm that she doesn't think she's ever felt before. The strange sense of loss that started when the strange figure that passed through her is gone as well. Her beating heart is full, her body rejuvenated.

A piece of flesh catches in her teeth, just as she has the passing thought—and now, I won't hurt Basil—

And it all comes crashing down.

With a start, Max gasps, because she recalls Basil is there, watching, keeping her prey still with his vines. And she recoils, shaking claws and trembling jaw withdrawing. The panic overwhelms the endorphins flooding her, leaving Max a mess of mixed signals. She loses her footing, leaving the boy—the body, slightly withered, a hole in his chest like—

Leaving it supported solely by Basil's will alone.

Bloody snout first, Max turns her guilty, horrified gaze to him. ]

I'm- I didn't- it just- I c-couldn't stop—

[ Sorry, doesn't cover it. Between this and the others, the roasted corpses that she left on the sidewalk.

Everything she's put him through tonight.

It would figure when she's the one with the hunting instincts, it all goes terribly wrong. ]

[No matter how much it hurts, or how hard it is to witness, Basil would never hold this against Max. This isn't her fault, her doing. He knows exactly what she's going through, having fallen victim to his own instincts in the past. The only way he's ever been capable of hunting has been with a hunting instinct to begin with, otherwise...it's unlikely Basil would be able to do it. Not even if he began to get to the point of frenzy over it.

Which brings them to now, with three corpses under their belts, one of which Basil is still supporting between them. The boy died the moment Max tore his chest open, and now he's nothing more than a dead body kept held aloft by Basil's vines. Though...he doesn't keep that up for much longer, slowly- shakily- lowering him down to the ground between them. There is still plenty left here, and he imagines the plan will be to either consume the rest here or to save it for later...he isn't sure if the other two bodies are salvageable, charred and burnt as they had been.

Basil isn't taking the usual sharp, heavy breaths that he does when he cries. His body no longer needs to draw breath, which means this expression of grief is equally silent. No tears fall, but that doesn't mean his head doesn't ache from it, his body feeling weak and hollow.

As Max begins to apologize, Basil shakes his head. He doesn't move, staying put where he is in front of her.]

You didn't...d-do it on purpose.

[He knows she didn't. She would never.]

[ Out of her peripheral, Max watches the body lower to the ground. Eyes half-open and staring, mouth in a permanent gape. Blood soaking his front, from the hole she left. Blood soaking her jaws, from her own actions.

Her claws dig into the grass. While Basil doesn't gasp while he cries due to his dead body, Max does, and it surprises her. Max doesn't know if she can catch her breath, as hot tears cut through the blood coating her face.

Now, the instincts that have been guiding her all night are mercilessly quiet, leaving her just with her own disgusted thoughts.

Max can't form any words, as they get stuck in her throat and she has to breathe now, and that's just far too many actions at once. Her arm-wings wrap around her, as she keeps gasping in shallow, quick breaths and lightly shaking her head in return. ]

[Basil...has been in her shoes. The first time his own instincts overcame him, to the point where he completely mutilated his victim...it's not an experience you ever forget, nor is it easily overcome.

And he realizes, as Max stands there and begins to cry, that someday when she's in the proper headspace for it, he thinks he will tell her about his own first time. But not now. The last thing Max needs now is another helping of senseless, violent imagery.

Once more, Basil is brought right back to the night of the recital. He remembers how Sunny looked, how he acted as he froze with terror and panic, unable to do anything but catastrophize. He didn't mean to, he didn't, weren't words Sunny ever said to him, but Basil knew he felt them in that moment. It's how Max is feeling now. Perhaps it's a bit different, since death was always the outcome...just not like this.

After a tentative moment of near-silence between them only broken up by the sound of Max crying, Basil steps forward. He doesn't consider the fact that she might not want to have anyone near her right now, because he remembers how he felt. There was a reason he'd asked someone he trusted to be there with him, that night. He should be afraid of her fire, but he isn't. Instead, Basil reaches out gently with shaking hands to rest them on Max's elbows, trying to get her to look at him and not at the corpse on the ground.]

I...it's going to be okay. I promise.

[ Gentle fingers against her scales, unnaturally cool in a way that should unnerve a being entrenched in fire magic. It's just like their normal monster forms, but reversed. The extreme change should feel strange, but it doesn't.

What it does do is accomplish Basil's goal. Max's reptilian face turns in his direction, scrunched up with pain and guilt. Tears run down her scales, and...

And her bloody claws, shaking like Basil's hands, lightly grasp at his arms. Her breathing still won't calm, nor will her tears, but even though Max doesn't believe those sorts of promises, ever, from Basil?

She wants to. She almost does. ]

We- we ha- have to-

[ Get the body out of the middle of the park. Teleport back to the Palazzo. Find something to do with the charred bodies, or- or, god, anything—!!

But Max can't form words. Not when she can still feel the fresh blood on her face, or scraps of flesh in her teeth. There's not much she can say, except for a painfully true: ]

I'm sorry- for screwing up.

[And all of those things will come in due time, because it's what has to happen. They can't leave this body here, nor can they leave the ones on the sidewalk just outside of the park gates. Well, they could, but neither of them lack enough of a conscience to. Basil is already prepared to do the emotional heavy lifting on that front if he has to, because he doesn't want to push Max any harder than need be. It's already been so much for her, this evening.

Though, Basil cannot deny the temptation to just run home from it all. Someone would find these bodies eventually, and nobody would ever know who did it, nor are there systems in place to find out. Finding a half-eaten corpse isn't really a crime that can be prosecuted in Ryslig. If it were, every monster would be in prison for life.

But...he isn't going to do that. They'll take this one step at a time.]

It's okay. T...the instincts are hard.

[He wants Max to know that. He understands how she feels. He's been there.]

We...we'll take care of him first. ["Him" being this body here in the park. They need to bring it back to the Palazzo.] Then we'll...get the others.

[ Hard is an understatement. In the times they've been hunting... How has Basil been able to hold any part of himself together? Max's already considerable respect for him grows.

She swallows down a stressful lump in her throat and nods jerkily. Yes, him first. And...maybe now, they can find Fugo, and he can help. At least maybe see if anything at all can be done about the charred bodies.

A small shiver runs down her spine as Max reaches out a claw to Basil. She should be able to get them back with just the ring. The two of them and a bloody corpse as a bit of a tight fit. Her mind feels clearer, in terms of using Faerie powers.

But a truth dances on the tip of her tongue that's far too sensitive for this moment. So instead of answering with words, it's just the nod and the outstretched bloody claw. ]

[The answer to that is...barely. Just barely. And unhealthily, to be sure. He has to put it outside of himself, the same way he did when Mari died, because he knows he'll be inconsolable if he doesn't. It doesn't allow him space to process, or grieve.

It's eroding him slowly, constantly, from the inside out.

When Max reaches for him, Basil doesn't hesitate to take her claw. They both know what needs to be done from here.

It's just a matter of making themselves do it.]

Inbox for ryslig

cw: immolation, death

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cw: disassociation, omori spoilers

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