ORIGIN - Epidemic: Heat

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E P I D E M I C

The heat was sweltering. The black horse paced through it, picking his way along the deep gorges and canyons of Monoceros. He'd been here before--been offered, briefly, sanctuary amongst a group, here. They hadn't remained long enough for him to really accept, but for the most part, they had been kind.

He remembered the big, broad rhinoceros Nemesis, who had given him shelter and shown him kindness, teaching him how to survive, taking him under her wing. Now she was gone--where, he did not know. He'd been wandering for hours, trying to make sure she was not present before releasing his plague, here. As much as he knew that it all had to end, somehow he did not wish to hasten the end of the one who had been as close as he had ever had to a mother.

It was a bat that he found first, rather than a rat, this time. There were several cave bats hanging under a ledge, in the darkness of the bottom of a gorge, and Khloros stood and watched them for a time in silence. His approach had not gone unnoticed: they were awake, aware, watching him warily, the clicking of his hooves on stone (no matter how soft) loud and clear to their hypersensitive ears.

He stepped forward only slowly, reaching out his thin head on its emaciated neck, trying to greet them as beast to beast. To trick them. To offer them kindness, as had been offered to him--kindness laced with death.

They hesitated, at first, his gentle mannerisms not driving them immediately off. Two dropped down, one crawling away, one flying. His soft muzzle brushed one, and he felt the plague immediately pass to it, crawling as legion within the miniscule smear of pus he left behind.

Then the bats were all following the one that fled, taking flight, hesitantly fleeing their resting spot. Khloros watched them go; unless they were stopped, it would hopefully spread.

Faster, and farther, on wings than on the ground. I should have thought of this before.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

((Ooc note - see this link for details on this plot, or feel free to post 'blind'!))

ARTUME

Not far from the monstrous horse, walked a sickly looking fawn. It didn't seem to be long for this world, rather resembling Khloros but without the infections and bleeding wounds. Her pelt was a dull, grey color, like it was made out of stone. She could have been mistaken for blind, with dull, glassy pale green eyes. The fawn didn't walk, so much as stumble, her left foreleg seemed to cause her trouble. The fawn, having not yet learned to care for herself, was sickly skinny, with a pelt that clung to her skeleton alarmingly. It looked as though something was very wrong with her right forehoof, seeming much too big and misshapen for her.

She slowed to a stop, hearing an odd cracking, flapping noise. Her long ears twitched this way and that, and she looked up, seeing a bunch of black things fluttering overhead. What was going on? Had something scared them? Well, she couldn't stand for that.

So the fawn headed to where the black things seemed to be originating from, the 'clip-dggg-clip-clop' of her hooves echoing around her. Up ahead, she could make out a shape, and she called out a friendly "Hello!"

However, as she neared, the shape came into better focus, and it became clear something was very frong with the Gembound. Its skin seemed to cling to its skeleton, and there were several weeping wounds. She frowned, and the worry in her voice was obviously as she called out, looking up to meet the horse's orb-like eyes, "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm speaking..."
'I'm thinking...'

@Khloros

Khloros turned away from the bats, slowly, upon hearing the voice. Lamplight eyes turned to watch the fawn, unblinking.

Sickly, and in pain? In need of release? Or perhaps another ally..?

He slowly paced over, long, thin black legs clacking hooves on the stone. He lowered his skeletal neck, and extended his emaciated head to peer closely at the dark little fawn. He took in her glassy eyes, her oversized hoof, and he gave a soft snort and a shake of his mane. It is not right, that they are being born deformed. It is not right that one so young should suffer so.

At length, he rasped, and though his voice was twisted by disease, his tone was gentle. "I do not need aid. Are you in pain, little one?" Nostrils flared as he sniffed over the fawn--albeit from a few feet away. But he did not touch her, careful not to; if she were not in pain, he had no intention of sickening her.

The plague would find them all, in time, but the black horse had never been one to harm the young.

He remembered all too well the pain that resulted.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Artume

ARTUME

Concern would be obvious on the fawn's face as Khloros turned towards her. She didn't let his frightening appearance affect her, although her ears did twitch back, just for a moment. Her nostrils twitched, picking up on the scent of rot that surrounded him like a cloak.

His appearance was definitely concerning. He looked sickly, with skin that clung to his bones, and visible wounds that bled. His eyes were large and orb-like, and for a moment she felt fear. But, no, he needed help more than she feared him, so she shoved it aside.

Meeting his eyes, she stretched up to sniff at him, even from far away. He smelled of rot, and sickness, but even from here she could smell under it, the smell that signified him to be Khloros, not just walking sickness.

She tilted her head, a worried frown on a velvet muzzle. He did not need aid? But he sounded sick, and he looked poorly. She couldn't just stand by! "I will be fine." she said surely, before looking around. Surely, there was something she could do?

Her eyes brightened, and her oddly shaped hoof began to glow. Something yellowish, and oblong, formed before her, and she leaned forward to take it in her mouth. "'il 'is 'elp 'oo?" she asked around the banana, tilting her head.

However, before she could offer it to the plague horse, it began to smoke. Her eyes widened, and then there was a sudden pop as it exploded, splattering her face in its innards. She looked taken aback, for a moment, before, unharmed, saying, "That... wasn't what I meant to happen."

"I'm speaking..."
'I'm thinking...'

@khloros

Khloros stared down at the fawn, and at what she was trying to do. This most certainly was not his normal field of magic, but-...

Briefly, he focused, and then--out of thin air, though with a great deal of concentration required--a banana sprang forth. It was not large, nor impressive, but he let it fall to the ground before the fawn nonetheless. He did not touch it.

"I do not require aid," he said, gently. He then paused, for a moment, watching Artume. "I am Khloros, and I carry death. It is who I am. I do not suffer for it. Do you have a name?"

He was not unkind, though with his rasping voice and somewhat monstrous appearance, it might be hard to tell. Bats chittered and shrieked in the distance as their illness took hold; Khloros felt almost... guilt, for a moment, as he gazed upon the young creature before him.

A shame, that all of this is required. But I serve what I serve, and it is better to feel, than to be unfeeling. For their sakes.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Artume

ARTUME

To her surprise, despite her failure, the horse didn't react much. Instead, it seemed, he cast the same spell, with much more success. The banana formed in mid air, before toppling down to the ground. She lowered her head to sniff at it, determining that it wasn't different from hers in the least. How interesting!

"Are you sure?" she frowned, tilting her head, "That looks really painful." and it did. She couldn't imagine walking around like that. And then he introduced himself, and she needed. "Well met, Khloros. I am Artume. May I ask what you are doing here? It's very windy." Perhaps not the best that she could have said, but she was young and naive, not yet knowing what it was the monster horse was trying to do.

"I'm speaking..."
'I'm thinking...'
@Khloros

Khloros stared, and for a time, he wondered how to answer the little one's questions. There were truths--hard truths--to which the very young ought not to be exposed; this he knew. Truths that they would not understand. Yet did she--as one clearly suffering, and who understood pain--not deserve the truth?

With a heaving, wet sigh, he lowered himself down, folding spidery black legs to lie on the rock beside the fawn.

"Artume." He began with just the name, turning his unblinking eyes to watch her. His voice came slow and rasping. "The caves in which all live are a lie. We are trapped here, born and reborn into pain. I was brought here to put an end to this. I carry death; death is a release from pain. A gift, to some, to the suffering."

He made no move to attack her, to drive his plague into her, nor did he give any sign that he were about to leave. Instead he lay quiet, watching her with his dull and empty gaze, allowing her to make what she would of his words. Would she understand him? Or would she perhaps condemn him? He was unsure, and he wondered in some distant, half-conscious sense if the condemnation of the young and innocent might affect him worse than did the blind accusations of the mature.
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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Artume

The howling wind sent an involuntary shudder through the body of Umbra as they fluttered through the cave where they had met a terrible fate. A dark place, especially for Crack, who was the only one that remembered the ordeal. It narrowed its eyes. It had been so close to taking the body. It had been so close from overtaking the other. If only it hadn't hit its head, perhaps it would have succeeded.

But that did not matter now. This was its day, despite the misgivings of the others. It did not have to fight them for this control so it had more time. They had an agreement - no matter what each of them did, they each had one day all to themselves.

And Crack knew just what to do with this day.

The bat, Valeria, had told it all it needed to know. It had scented the dead rat and had tracked the source here. It had taken a little while, but the scent was strong. They were here.

As it got closer, the scent was getting stronger and stronger until, finally, they caught sight of two black creatures, one of which Crack knew instantly was the culprit. Covered in pus and gore, with white eyes and with that terrible odor coming off of it in waves.

Crack...why are we here? What are you planning to do with this creature? Caliante's presence appeared in the corner of its consciousness and it growled. "Go back to the Inner World, Caliante. Today is my day."

With a soft sigh, she went silent and the pressure disappeared.

It then fluttered faster as it began to descend, coming to a graceful landing just in between the two dark creatures. It looked, first, at the black stag, eyes blank with disinterest, before turning to the diseased horse.

"You," it whispered. "I have been looking for you for a long time. You are spreading this disease through the caves. Spreading death, pain, chaos. I am Crack and I am here to offer myself to you."

"Caliante." "Salvation." "Rusty." "Crack."

@Khloros

ARTUME

Artume looked up at Khloros, her gaunt face covered in the innerds of the banana. She looked... incredibly young. If one looked close enough, she still had the spots of a fawn, only a few shades darker than the rest of her fur. Her horns had yet to budge and, if she weren't an Origin creature, she would surely still be suckling at her mother's side.

She was surprised when he lowered himself to lay down before her, looking at her seriously. It was obvious he had something serious to say, especially with how he said her name. So she looked at him as unblinkingly as she could, taking his words to heart.

Her ears flicked, and there was no judgement on her face, only thoughtfulness. "But, Khloros, you say we are reborn. So won't death just start the cycle over again?"

And then another showed up. A bat, if she remembered correctly. It approached Khloros, landing between the pair, before addressing him.

"I'm speaking..."
'I'm thinking...'

@khloros

Khloros leaned down, offering the fawn a soft blow of warm air--an equine greeting--through his pus-ridden nostrils. It was a gentle gesture, accompanied by a flow of magicka intended to strengthen the sickly-looking creature's own internal bacteria. He had heard the stranger's arrival, but first he gave a quiet, solemn response to Artume. "Not if there are none left to perpetuate it, little one."

He then turned, lifting his head, staring down at Umbra. No--"Crack." Examining her, detachedly. The creature was another bat--precisely what he'd just decided could be so useful; and yet, it was talking. Speaking.

Had word spread among the creatures so quickly? Could all bats speak; did they wish to spread his gift?

With this catastrophically misinterpreted realization, Khloros paced two ambling steps closer, and spoke.

"Offer yourself?" He asked this only after a long moment, his voice hoarsely rasping, eyes unblinking. He was slightly bemused, unsure as to what it meant, but he was perfectly willing to accept outside aid with his task.

"If it is your task, too, to carry death--then take it from me, and bear it by wing, as I bring it along the stone," he continued. He wasn't sure who this bat was, or why they'd want to help him. Perhaps Crack would explain. If not, however-... Well, it did not matter, so much as they were an ally in his goals.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Umbra @Artume

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