Foster van Denend (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
criticallyfucked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2018-04-10 03:46 pm
criticallyfucked) wrote in lostcarnival2018-04-10 03:46 pm
Entry tags:
[ALSO Closed]
Who: Foster and Tyki, later Foster and The Man Gongenzaka
When: D34
Where: Lakeside
What: Foster raises an abomination of a squirrel at Gongenzaka's request.
Warnings: Foster, animal death, self-injury, the creation of an undead squirrel-man.
This is the second time Foster's been asked to do this. Not this specifically, of course, but 'this' as in the creation of some sort of... made-to-order necromantic test subject for soul-based magic. If he counts Herbert's secretive experiments (and he's trying not to think about that, how directly he contributed to his own present misery in physical form), that's three. He can't help but feel a little like he's being taken advantage of, but he can't quite put his claw on why. Maybe it's just that he knows he's really meant to be used in a more literal fashion.
He's never tried to put a body into this particular shape before, and he's not stupid enough to do it by the barn, so he's brought the squirrels he's trapped (three of them, just in case) up by the lakeside, where his magic can be worked undisturbed... and mistakes are easily disposed of.
When: D34
Where: Lakeside
What: Foster raises an abomination of a squirrel at Gongenzaka's request.
Warnings: Foster, animal death, self-injury, the creation of an undead squirrel-man.
This is the second time Foster's been asked to do this. Not this specifically, of course, but 'this' as in the creation of some sort of... made-to-order necromantic test subject for soul-based magic. If he counts Herbert's secretive experiments (and he's trying not to think about that, how directly he contributed to his own present misery in physical form), that's three. He can't help but feel a little like he's being taken advantage of, but he can't quite put his claw on why. Maybe it's just that he knows he's really meant to be used in a more literal fashion.
He's never tried to put a body into this particular shape before, and he's not stupid enough to do it by the barn, so he's brought the squirrels he's trapped (three of them, just in case) up by the lakeside, where his magic can be worked undisturbed... and mistakes are easily disposed of.
TW: Death of an undead.... thing.....
"... No." But that's why he has three of them--or had three of them, he's going to be down to two in just a second. He doesn't even bother to wipe his blood off the knife--it's still flowing fresh out of the back of his arm, soaking into the dense, semicurly blond fur.
He steps forward into the circle and sinks the blade into the meaty part of the thing's back without any change in his strangely mild expression, and the Thing doesn't resist or even shudder; it just drops, dead (again) before it hits the dirt.
no subject
It's why Tyki watches carefully as he answers, then eliminates it all together. It's quick, a little disappointing, and soon enough it is no more than a dead body on the ground. Disposal should be easy enough and if Foster discards it well, he could.
"Well, I suppose it is good then that you have two more," comes his instant reply.
no subject
"I'll need to remove this one first. It's in my circle." Foster has no sympathy for dead things--nor for undead ones. It's not really surprising, considering what he does, but it's rooted less in practical matters and more in the lack of sympathy he has for himself.
Or is it the other way around?
Either way, this dead thing is in the way now.
It's too big for burying, or leaving in the woods. Too humanlike to tow to the barn. There's still a couple of options, but the more a circle is used, the less stable it becomes. So that eliminates a couple of them.
He steps back decisively and walks to the side of the lake, searching for large stones.
no subject
He makes a noise in his throat as he gestures to the side, "If you mean to speed this along, simply leave it aside and I will take care of it later." To which he means his babies. He's not being helpful as much as he's ensuring his own personal means of gaining more numbers of them. Wismuth had been a place he had lost a lot of his own pawns.
He's not expecting Foster to trust him, but then again, he barely knew Foster at all.
no subject
Then his eyelids drop, just a couple of millimeters--and it changes his whole expression immediately.
"How ominous," he notes, picking up another stone. "But I don't have til later." His voice is still bright, light.
He turns, his furry arms full of large, smooth rocks, and dumps them in a pile off to one side before coming back retrieve the wasted squirrel. Foster isn't... strong, really, and his lack of visible muscle mass is evidence of chronic physical neglect, but he is big. And under the fur on his arms is a layer of muscle he's earned from months in the labour department. He wraps his claws around the corpse's distended stomach and hauls it up to his chest, its head rolling morbidly along its weak shoulder. He doesn't appear bothered; he simply drapes it over his (equine) back to carry before returning to the water's edge--where he unceremoniously dumps it off into the mud.
cw; bugs, devouring, corpses
Well, if he's going to be impatient about things he may as well impose his own will upon the other.
"Tease," he responds, his lips part softly as he speaks. Commanding and devious are his words. More than thirty Tease emerge from behind him into the air and sweep past him towards the Foster and the corpse. They are a hungry swarm and starving all the same. Food is food and they are ready to feast, "No, not him. Only the corpse. It's a quick correction as they deviate from the live meal towards the wasted squirrel. They are smothering it in a blanket of beating wings.