Re: Intense Struggle Season 2! (Round 3: Castle Suterrea)
08-07-2011, 12:26 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
Reudic’s species takes a much longer time to escape infancy than most species- a complete 15 solar cycles or so- mainly due to the amount of time it takes for the biological processes that allow the species to float in air to develop, along with sentience. During these 15 solar cycles, Viridioflorans are rooted to the ground and are lovingly tended to by their genetic progenitors. The memory system for the species is developed right before their first flight, and as such one of Reudic’s first memories was around that time. Now, floating here, at this time, it came back to him, like a white lie, like a broken promise.
The plant under the heritage of Otsaceae bobbed slightly in the air, still tethered to the roots of the ground. In a clearing the child floated, patiently waiting for one-who-birthed-seed and one-who-pollinated-flower. They had left suddenly, but he (or she? The plant had not yet assumed a preferred gender identity) was confident they would be back soon.
From the edge of the woods surrounding Reudic, there was a rustle. Out into the clearing it ran- a small-beast. Although seemingly harmless, young, tethered Viridoflorans were on its list of viable prey. It rushed at the plant, climbing up the tether onto the floating section, and began chewing at its young, supple vines. The plant shook in pain, desperately trying to throw the small-beast off of it.
“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho! (One-who-birthed-seed! One-who-pollinated flower! Help me!)” he cried briefly in the Viridofloran’s spoken tongue. The sound echoed off the daylight sky, racketing through the tries, desperately trying to reach the intended recipients.
There was no answer, however. No rescue. No love.
The beast was still biting at the plant, and once again he called.
“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho!”
Again, no answer. No rescue. No love. And now, no time.
Reudic whipped out a vine in self defense, releasing a variety of chemicals in an emotional response. The small-beast collapsed onto the ground in a heap, promptly standing back up in response to the impact, and once again tried to climb up to the plant.
There was something wrong with the beast, however. As it climbed, its footing slipped, and once again it crumpled to the ground. It looked up at its former prey, and stared. Pupils dilated, as if it was seeing something that was not there, seeing beyond the earth and the forest and the rain and the endless survival, struggling, struggling to survive…
The small-beast quickly died as the vines instinctually wrapped around it, snapping its fragile neck, consuming it. That was the day that Reudic learned the first thing it ever truly understood: survival.
Suddenly, in the distance, a giant spider appeared, running down the hall, charging, thirsting for blood, thirsting for death. Sarika, in her increasingly drugged state, was in no condition to fight back, and Reudic might have dealt with it, if not for the fact that a jet of flame charred the spider at the last moment, reinforcing the cruelness of survival in Reudic’s head. Somehow, the events around him continued to remind him of the past, and another memory resurfaced from the murky depths of the mind…
“Hey! One-who-is-different, get over here!” the plant called with its chemical signature. Reudic ignored him. If he did go over there… it would not end well. He floated on, planning to hunt for food. His progenitors had never returned, never to answer his now-meaningless call, and he had quickly taught himself to hunt. He never knew why they left him. He desperately hoped that maybe they had died, instead of abandoning him. Yet, deep inside, the plant was almost sure they had just left him. Left him to die.
“Did you hear me, moss-who-leeches-nutrition!?” the aggravator from before called out again, this time bumping Reudic into a tree. “You are a slime upon the ground-that-gives-life! WILT AND DIE!”
Gritting his metaphorical teeth, he turned to his instigator. He wanted so badly to lash out, to kill these tormentors. Instead, he calmly replied, saying, “What have I done to bring about this anger-of-fire? How do I deserve this-”
“You have received this because you continue to live! Many tolerate your flowering, but I demand the death of abominations like you! I CHALLENGE YOU TO HUNTING-THAT-PRUNES-THE-WEAK!”
It lashed out, tangling itself into Reudic’s vines, tearing, whipping, and pain once again rocked The Plant’s body. He could take it no longer. For many solar cycles he had been beaten, mocked, shunned by his society, and he could take it no longer, he had to lash out. The pain reminded him of that first kill, that small-beast, and he released the psychoactive chemicals into the attacker, and much like that beast, it slid off the Viridofloran and crumpled in a heap onto the ground.
The plant looked into his former assailant, and the former assailant looked into him. Yet, like that small-beast, years and years ago, it did not truly see Reudic. It looked beyond. Beyond the earth and the forest and the rain and the endless survival, struggling, struggling to survive…
And before he could think, Reudic killed him. He wrapped his vines around the being, and suddenly it was in his stomach, digesting, dying.
And that marked the first official moment of the plant’s exile from society, along with the second thing he truly understood: To truly live, to look past survival, is to relinquish to death.
Suddenly, Lloyd, Karen, and Marcus rounded the corner, the three humans stopped at the sight of the spider.
“The creature ran this way from the far end of the hall,” he said in reply to their inquisitive looks. A few of them laughed, and then three of them then turned their attention to Sarika. Suddenly a commotion went on between them, and the name of the little girl was mentioned once again.
Lillian. The child. He turned to the massive amount of content that was downloaded into his mind. For some reason, humans revere children, in all ages, no matter what. Like they were some kind of pagan god, a representation of all that is good and holy, and childhood the veil under which this purity was protected.
Reudic knew enough from his own childhood to know that was false. Children are terrible, and there is nothing good, nothing sacred, about them. They’re monsters, beasts that shun anything abnormal, anything new.
The plant saw all this human knowledge, years and years of philosophy and storytelling. He stood before the horrible splendor in its entirety, and rejected it.
Something snapped, like the cracking of a neck, like the breaking of a heart, and years of repressed hatred, mindless rage, released.
Constantly constantly constantly reminded of the little girl who was worshiped praised always accepted never shunned never hated always loved. Who was she to deserve this always wonderful in the eyes of ignorant humanity the moronic other contestants that would GIVE THEIR LIFE for the stupid girl who couldn’t survive without them who would die in the instant without the prodding and protecting and watchful eye. Oh he HATED her he saw her eyes looked into them and she was looking beyond death and life and the rain and the forest and mere survival she constantly looked past and saw that wonder that demanded she died and so he would comply.
They were searching for Lillian the Mongrel and he heard the words of Lloyd the Idiot and his incomprehensible putrid magic now it glowed and pointed towards Lillian obviously because that’s all they ever went towards Lillian Lillian Lillian she had to die to free these men poisoned by their mammalian knowledge oh yes he would hunt he would become the animal that his society shunned and men feared give up to the rage oh he had to take that path to the girl and use it for himself so that they could not protect her and she would finally lose her life.
Lloyd didn’t expect Reudic to hit him with his vines, and his light Elven frame wasn’t really the kind to be hit by things. So when they pounded upon him, briefly filling his mind with toxin-induced illusions, he fell over without much effort. And before the group could react, the plant took the glowing, pointing pendant and floated off, looking for the girl who he intended to kill, calling out words in his native language:
"“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho!"
Reudic’s species takes a much longer time to escape infancy than most species- a complete 15 solar cycles or so- mainly due to the amount of time it takes for the biological processes that allow the species to float in air to develop, along with sentience. During these 15 solar cycles, Viridioflorans are rooted to the ground and are lovingly tended to by their genetic progenitors. The memory system for the species is developed right before their first flight, and as such one of Reudic’s first memories was around that time. Now, floating here, at this time, it came back to him, like a white lie, like a broken promise.
The plant under the heritage of Otsaceae bobbed slightly in the air, still tethered to the roots of the ground. In a clearing the child floated, patiently waiting for one-who-birthed-seed and one-who-pollinated-flower. They had left suddenly, but he (or she? The plant had not yet assumed a preferred gender identity) was confident they would be back soon.
From the edge of the woods surrounding Reudic, there was a rustle. Out into the clearing it ran- a small-beast. Although seemingly harmless, young, tethered Viridoflorans were on its list of viable prey. It rushed at the plant, climbing up the tether onto the floating section, and began chewing at its young, supple vines. The plant shook in pain, desperately trying to throw the small-beast off of it.
“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho! (One-who-birthed-seed! One-who-pollinated flower! Help me!)” he cried briefly in the Viridofloran’s spoken tongue. The sound echoed off the daylight sky, racketing through the tries, desperately trying to reach the intended recipients.
There was no answer, however. No rescue. No love.
The beast was still biting at the plant, and once again he called.
“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho!”
Again, no answer. No rescue. No love. And now, no time.
Reudic whipped out a vine in self defense, releasing a variety of chemicals in an emotional response. The small-beast collapsed onto the ground in a heap, promptly standing back up in response to the impact, and once again tried to climb up to the plant.
There was something wrong with the beast, however. As it climbed, its footing slipped, and once again it crumpled to the ground. It looked up at its former prey, and stared. Pupils dilated, as if it was seeing something that was not there, seeing beyond the earth and the forest and the rain and the endless survival, struggling, struggling to survive…
The small-beast quickly died as the vines instinctually wrapped around it, snapping its fragile neck, consuming it. That was the day that Reudic learned the first thing it ever truly understood: survival.
Suddenly, in the distance, a giant spider appeared, running down the hall, charging, thirsting for blood, thirsting for death. Sarika, in her increasingly drugged state, was in no condition to fight back, and Reudic might have dealt with it, if not for the fact that a jet of flame charred the spider at the last moment, reinforcing the cruelness of survival in Reudic’s head. Somehow, the events around him continued to remind him of the past, and another memory resurfaced from the murky depths of the mind…
“Hey! One-who-is-different, get over here!” the plant called with its chemical signature. Reudic ignored him. If he did go over there… it would not end well. He floated on, planning to hunt for food. His progenitors had never returned, never to answer his now-meaningless call, and he had quickly taught himself to hunt. He never knew why they left him. He desperately hoped that maybe they had died, instead of abandoning him. Yet, deep inside, the plant was almost sure they had just left him. Left him to die.
“Did you hear me, moss-who-leeches-nutrition!?” the aggravator from before called out again, this time bumping Reudic into a tree. “You are a slime upon the ground-that-gives-life! WILT AND DIE!”
Gritting his metaphorical teeth, he turned to his instigator. He wanted so badly to lash out, to kill these tormentors. Instead, he calmly replied, saying, “What have I done to bring about this anger-of-fire? How do I deserve this-”
“You have received this because you continue to live! Many tolerate your flowering, but I demand the death of abominations like you! I CHALLENGE YOU TO HUNTING-THAT-PRUNES-THE-WEAK!”
It lashed out, tangling itself into Reudic’s vines, tearing, whipping, and pain once again rocked The Plant’s body. He could take it no longer. For many solar cycles he had been beaten, mocked, shunned by his society, and he could take it no longer, he had to lash out. The pain reminded him of that first kill, that small-beast, and he released the psychoactive chemicals into the attacker, and much like that beast, it slid off the Viridofloran and crumpled in a heap onto the ground.
The plant looked into his former assailant, and the former assailant looked into him. Yet, like that small-beast, years and years ago, it did not truly see Reudic. It looked beyond. Beyond the earth and the forest and the rain and the endless survival, struggling, struggling to survive…
And before he could think, Reudic killed him. He wrapped his vines around the being, and suddenly it was in his stomach, digesting, dying.
And that marked the first official moment of the plant’s exile from society, along with the second thing he truly understood: To truly live, to look past survival, is to relinquish to death.
Suddenly, Lloyd, Karen, and Marcus rounded the corner, the three humans stopped at the sight of the spider.
“The creature ran this way from the far end of the hall,” he said in reply to their inquisitive looks. A few of them laughed, and then three of them then turned their attention to Sarika. Suddenly a commotion went on between them, and the name of the little girl was mentioned once again.
Lillian. The child. He turned to the massive amount of content that was downloaded into his mind. For some reason, humans revere children, in all ages, no matter what. Like they were some kind of pagan god, a representation of all that is good and holy, and childhood the veil under which this purity was protected.
Reudic knew enough from his own childhood to know that was false. Children are terrible, and there is nothing good, nothing sacred, about them. They’re monsters, beasts that shun anything abnormal, anything new.
The plant saw all this human knowledge, years and years of philosophy and storytelling. He stood before the horrible splendor in its entirety, and rejected it.
Something snapped, like the cracking of a neck, like the breaking of a heart, and years of repressed hatred, mindless rage, released.
Constantly constantly constantly reminded of the little girl who was worshiped praised always accepted never shunned never hated always loved. Who was she to deserve this always wonderful in the eyes of ignorant humanity the moronic other contestants that would GIVE THEIR LIFE for the stupid girl who couldn’t survive without them who would die in the instant without the prodding and protecting and watchful eye. Oh he HATED her he saw her eyes looked into them and she was looking beyond death and life and the rain and the forest and mere survival she constantly looked past and saw that wonder that demanded she died and so he would comply.
They were searching for Lillian the Mongrel and he heard the words of Lloyd the Idiot and his incomprehensible putrid magic now it glowed and pointed towards Lillian obviously because that’s all they ever went towards Lillian Lillian Lillian she had to die to free these men poisoned by their mammalian knowledge oh yes he would hunt he would become the animal that his society shunned and men feared give up to the rage oh he had to take that path to the girl and use it for himself so that they could not protect her and she would finally lose her life.
Lloyd didn’t expect Reudic to hit him with his vines, and his light Elven frame wasn’t really the kind to be hit by things. So when they pounded upon him, briefly filling his mind with toxin-induced illusions, he fell over without much effort. And before the group could react, the plant took the glowing, pointing pendant and floated off, looking for the girl who he intended to kill, calling out words in his native language:
"“N’kklatash pftara! N’kkrasar tanabir! Kostaptosho!"