Re: The Relentless Slaughter [Round 2: S'kkoi]
07-22-2011, 04:54 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.
The Tormentor actually had much in common with his ol’ Bossman, the more he thought of it. They both enjoyed evil and pain. And as they continuously pursued their goal of wide-spread torment, they both quickly got irritating. Sure, you wouldn’t want them to turn their attention towards you and generally shit on your day, but after a certain amount of time, the things they did and said became…somewhat of an annoyance.
The Tormentor was certainly spicing things up a little, though.
It took a while for Samael to convince himself to get to what he was certain was an upright position. His legs tangled up and he stumbled. It was not exactly odd, as his legs had been long and gangly and easily tanglable before. But the number of legs was very different. Really, he was just completely different than how he was before.
He had changed forms many times, even before the whole banishment-constant-reincarnation fiasco. So first he concerned himself with his surroundings.
Yes. Definitely underwater. Sand and rocks everywhere. He could feel his hair flow lightly and knew that he was probably not going to be able to hide his eyes very well this round. They didn’t seem too deep underwater, though.
But speaking of flowing things, his dress was not exactly wieldy in this environment, all billowing and wet, and if he ever managed to get back on land, it would end up dragging him down. Wait, no, when a guy was wearing it, it was a ‘robe.’ Right. Dress or robe, Samael figured it was probably safe to take it off here. He was already pretty certain what the Tormentor had done and it wouldn’t really matter if he was clothed or not. And also he could figure out how to get used to this sudden new form.
His hands were no longer hands, though, but very unwieldy and large claws. (Still had those square holes in them, though.) He found he couldn’t get them through the sleeves and had to rip it apart instead. He hoped that the girl who he took it from, Dorin or something, wouldn’t mind. But she was probably partly aquatic now too and just realizing how much baggy clothes could get in the way.
And with the robe off (it was white too, everybody knows you shouldn’t wear wet, white clothing), Samael had a good view of all the extra, spindly legs he had, rather thin and segmented. All eight of them came up to his torso, which had a blue back now and a white stomach that had a long, triangular abdomen segment. Right above that, though, was the unholy, cursed symbol. Of course, it couldn’t be hidden under his new shell. It had to be emblazoned on it. Though if he had an exoskeleton now, why did he still have hair?
Samael decided to just take for granted that his eyes were the same, but he suddenly wondered about the rest of his face. He brought his hands up but remembered that they were claws now and more likely to hit him rather than just gently feel. He was probably better off trying to find some reflective surface.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel the spines that came out the side of his cheeks. And he experimented with his mouth. It was now no more than a flap. In place of a tongue and teeth, there were those…small, thin, grabby…things. Segmented, small tentacles? Maybe if he ever survived this, he should look up some crab anatomy. In any case, he didn’t dare try to talk. He probably couldn’t. If he could, he’d find out later. But he was pretty sure all he could do was froth at the mouth and eat some algae.
The city ruins were in the distance and Samael supposed that he was supposed to head there. He would probably meet up with some of the others as he approached. If they didn’t accidentally kill themselves panicking about their new form.
No, don’t make morbid jokes, people don’t like that in the middle of a horrible and scarring fight to the death.
Samael walked forward and realized very quickly that none of his legs were really built to walk forward. He only ended up travelling rather slowly. He tried hopping, as with all these legs, he certainly had to be good at that, but the sand did not make it easy to jump about and he tumbled slowly down the hill.
It was then he realized that, well, now he was essentially a crab. And crabs tended to walk a certain way.
With a small groan, Samael scuttled in a quarter-circle. Then he strode sideways.
Actually, could he swim?
Probably not. Hahahah. No. That was too easy.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ruins, of course, had been dilapidated. That was why the ruins were ruins in the first place. And something had to have happened for it to suddenly be in a rather unfamiliar environment it had not been built for. Half of it seemed to have broken off and fallen down into a nearby underwater crevice. But, if one had nigh Sherlockian skills in deducing, despite all the algae and overgrown seaweeds and barely recognizable structures, it would have been made apparent that some of the damage was rather recent, done after it had fallen. Scratches and scrapes adorned what were left of the walls. One large being seemed to have fallen in the middle of it and died, judging by the skeleton. There were carvings in the wall, carvings of a rather interesting symbol. This symbol could be best described as ‘suspicious.’
If you visited these ruins on a daily basis and managed not to run into anything with teeth and a bad attitude, you might have never been able to find a secret area secretly hidden somewhere under the ruins that led to a secret cavern with more secret carvings and skeletons that did not have the sense to be hiding in closets. You would never find an important altar (that was in actuality a fixed up counter dug up from an old kitchen). You would never find a group of gathered sea creatures, some more fishy than others.
You would never hear someone that appeared to be a well-decorated shark and leader raise some sort of important artifact and bellow, “…Today, we test Brother Kum’ai’s worthiness, so that he may be invited into the Brotherhood. Brother Kum’ai, please come forward.”
You would have never seen two secret tests, done in quick succession. The Joining of the Blood required one to slit a fin or an equivalent. The blood would diffuse and the other initiated would breathe it in. The leader shark always seemed to enjoy this much more – his pupils would always, without exception, dilate vacantly and he would stare off into the distance for a few minutes after the test was concluded.
The second test was a stronger test of devotion. It gave the potential Brother the honor of sacrificing. It was always somebody they knew. The sacrifice was always allowed to plead for their life.
If you had come upon this, you would have probably agreed that this was some lame teenager angst emo fish crap, albeit rather deadly. You would be right. You would also probably be slated for a quick sacrifice to their god, lovingly named The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Conqueror of All That Can Be Seen, Ruler of the Bottomless Pit, the Great Beast Called Soggoth, Defiler of the Heavens and Light and All That Is Good, Spawn of the Deepest Fires, and The Once and Future Lord of Darkness.
This would probably cement your first impressions, and indeed, you would probably hold this as fact until your untimely demise. It couldn’t be said to be false.
You would have also probably brought them one step closer to reviving The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Conqueror of All That Can Be Seen, Blah blah blah blah blah and Future Lord of Darkness.
The Tormentor actually had much in common with his ol’ Bossman, the more he thought of it. They both enjoyed evil and pain. And as they continuously pursued their goal of wide-spread torment, they both quickly got irritating. Sure, you wouldn’t want them to turn their attention towards you and generally shit on your day, but after a certain amount of time, the things they did and said became…somewhat of an annoyance.
The Tormentor was certainly spicing things up a little, though.
It took a while for Samael to convince himself to get to what he was certain was an upright position. His legs tangled up and he stumbled. It was not exactly odd, as his legs had been long and gangly and easily tanglable before. But the number of legs was very different. Really, he was just completely different than how he was before.
He had changed forms many times, even before the whole banishment-constant-reincarnation fiasco. So first he concerned himself with his surroundings.
Yes. Definitely underwater. Sand and rocks everywhere. He could feel his hair flow lightly and knew that he was probably not going to be able to hide his eyes very well this round. They didn’t seem too deep underwater, though.
But speaking of flowing things, his dress was not exactly wieldy in this environment, all billowing and wet, and if he ever managed to get back on land, it would end up dragging him down. Wait, no, when a guy was wearing it, it was a ‘robe.’ Right. Dress or robe, Samael figured it was probably safe to take it off here. He was already pretty certain what the Tormentor had done and it wouldn’t really matter if he was clothed or not. And also he could figure out how to get used to this sudden new form.
His hands were no longer hands, though, but very unwieldy and large claws. (Still had those square holes in them, though.) He found he couldn’t get them through the sleeves and had to rip it apart instead. He hoped that the girl who he took it from, Dorin or something, wouldn’t mind. But she was probably partly aquatic now too and just realizing how much baggy clothes could get in the way.
And with the robe off (it was white too, everybody knows you shouldn’t wear wet, white clothing), Samael had a good view of all the extra, spindly legs he had, rather thin and segmented. All eight of them came up to his torso, which had a blue back now and a white stomach that had a long, triangular abdomen segment. Right above that, though, was the unholy, cursed symbol. Of course, it couldn’t be hidden under his new shell. It had to be emblazoned on it. Though if he had an exoskeleton now, why did he still have hair?
Samael decided to just take for granted that his eyes were the same, but he suddenly wondered about the rest of his face. He brought his hands up but remembered that they were claws now and more likely to hit him rather than just gently feel. He was probably better off trying to find some reflective surface.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel the spines that came out the side of his cheeks. And he experimented with his mouth. It was now no more than a flap. In place of a tongue and teeth, there were those…small, thin, grabby…things. Segmented, small tentacles? Maybe if he ever survived this, he should look up some crab anatomy. In any case, he didn’t dare try to talk. He probably couldn’t. If he could, he’d find out later. But he was pretty sure all he could do was froth at the mouth and eat some algae.
The city ruins were in the distance and Samael supposed that he was supposed to head there. He would probably meet up with some of the others as he approached. If they didn’t accidentally kill themselves panicking about their new form.
No, don’t make morbid jokes, people don’t like that in the middle of a horrible and scarring fight to the death.
Samael walked forward and realized very quickly that none of his legs were really built to walk forward. He only ended up travelling rather slowly. He tried hopping, as with all these legs, he certainly had to be good at that, but the sand did not make it easy to jump about and he tumbled slowly down the hill.
It was then he realized that, well, now he was essentially a crab. And crabs tended to walk a certain way.
With a small groan, Samael scuttled in a quarter-circle. Then he strode sideways.
Actually, could he swim?
Probably not. Hahahah. No. That was too easy.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ruins, of course, had been dilapidated. That was why the ruins were ruins in the first place. And something had to have happened for it to suddenly be in a rather unfamiliar environment it had not been built for. Half of it seemed to have broken off and fallen down into a nearby underwater crevice. But, if one had nigh Sherlockian skills in deducing, despite all the algae and overgrown seaweeds and barely recognizable structures, it would have been made apparent that some of the damage was rather recent, done after it had fallen. Scratches and scrapes adorned what were left of the walls. One large being seemed to have fallen in the middle of it and died, judging by the skeleton. There were carvings in the wall, carvings of a rather interesting symbol. This symbol could be best described as ‘suspicious.’
If you visited these ruins on a daily basis and managed not to run into anything with teeth and a bad attitude, you might have never been able to find a secret area secretly hidden somewhere under the ruins that led to a secret cavern with more secret carvings and skeletons that did not have the sense to be hiding in closets. You would never find an important altar (that was in actuality a fixed up counter dug up from an old kitchen). You would never find a group of gathered sea creatures, some more fishy than others.
You would never hear someone that appeared to be a well-decorated shark and leader raise some sort of important artifact and bellow, “…Today, we test Brother Kum’ai’s worthiness, so that he may be invited into the Brotherhood. Brother Kum’ai, please come forward.”
You would have never seen two secret tests, done in quick succession. The Joining of the Blood required one to slit a fin or an equivalent. The blood would diffuse and the other initiated would breathe it in. The leader shark always seemed to enjoy this much more – his pupils would always, without exception, dilate vacantly and he would stare off into the distance for a few minutes after the test was concluded.
The second test was a stronger test of devotion. It gave the potential Brother the honor of sacrificing. It was always somebody they knew. The sacrifice was always allowed to plead for their life.
If you had come upon this, you would have probably agreed that this was some lame teenager angst emo fish crap, albeit rather deadly. You would be right. You would also probably be slated for a quick sacrifice to their god, lovingly named The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Conqueror of All That Can Be Seen, Ruler of the Bottomless Pit, the Great Beast Called Soggoth, Defiler of the Heavens and Light and All That Is Good, Spawn of the Deepest Fires, and The Once and Future Lord of Darkness.
This would probably cement your first impressions, and indeed, you would probably hold this as fact until your untimely demise. It couldn’t be said to be false.
You would have also probably brought them one step closer to reviving The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Conqueror of All That Can Be Seen, Blah blah blah blah blah and Future Lord of Darkness.