ORIGIN - Gembounds, Beware

Any Lesser Gembounds ran in fear.

Many Greaters did the same.

Of course, there were not many Gembounds in Tunnel K. The mist and chill seemed to drive them away. But that, and the feeling of emptiness, was what drew Bahamut.

Atop his back, a pair of desiccated corpses rested. They both had had all the moisture removed from them, leaving their skin tight over the bones, unable to decompose any further.

The tiger was looking for a den. A cave, where he could keep his trophies.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

The tiger raised his head, seeing a cave.

And it was perfect. There were long, poined rocks sticking up out of the ground and, yes, they would do. He dumped the corpses to the ground without caring, and slipped inside. The tunnel was rather small, barely wide or tall enough for him but, he found, as he walked in, that it widened and got taller, until he could jump straight up without worry, and pace his body length five times without worrying about hitting the walls. Yes, this would do.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

It just needed some... personal touches.

The tiger looped back around, making his way back through the tunnel. He stopped to observe the rock spires, butting it with a paw. His paw came back with a cut to his pawpad, and he nodded. Yes, this would work.

He picked the Aardwolf's corpse up in his teeth, and approached the nearest spire. It took him only moments to force the corpse down onto it, until the point was sticking out of the other side, and she was hanging limpy from it on her side.

There, that looked rather nice.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

Next was the head.

It fit easily in his massive mouth, only the dried nose and lolling tongue sticking out.

He plodded over to the next pike, and reared up, forcing it down onto the spire until he heard something crack. Then, he backed away, nodding. The head was on the spire with the pointed tip sticking out, eyes glazed over, and dry tongue hanging out of a dropped mouth.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

Last, he needed to mount the dog.

It was easy enough to pick up, especially without its head. He dragged it over to the nearest pike, and reared up, forcing it down onto the spike.

The spike made a bit of a mess, creating a gaping hole in her stomach. Entrails fell out, covering the pike, but he didn't care much.

That done, he retreated into his den.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

He had hatched, here.

At times, he still returned to the tunnel to muse--to stand in still silence, and to think, sometimes for motionless hours.

Now, however, the faint scent of blood reached him, and his nostrils flared. Lamplight eyes glowed as too-thin head lifted on spindly neck, and the emaciated, disease-wracked black horse shifted from the shadows into lurching motion. Hooves clicked on the stone as he walked, his ears pricked up.

What he found were bodies.

Dead, and torn apart; impaled upon spikes. It was a gruesome thing, and he stood there, again still, watching them. Their eyes were glassy and dead. Faint pity stirred, but it was distant, a half-forgotten remnant of emotion. Faint, too, was the indignation that told him "this is wrong." He himself killed. Rather than rage and grief, or fear, he felt curiosity: why would someone display these trophies?

Was it a warning? A threat for others to stay away, erected out of fear? Or was it gloating, some sort of triumphant territorial marker? Had some sort of group of Gembound moved into the narrow-mouthed cave ahead?

Khloros did not call out. Instead, he stood there, motionless in the shadows just outside the cave--not hiding, but not making himself known, either. He simply stood facing the entrance, so that whoever came in or out would be sure to spot him and his glowing pinprick ghostlight eyes.

Quiet, watching, he waited--wondering who had done this, and more importantly, why.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Bahamut

The beast slept.

But he remained aware. Ears twitched every time a Lesser dared to move, and his nostrils flared with each scent. So when hooves began to clatter against the ground, he quickly came to life.

Blood red eyes opened, gleaming in the shadows. Silently, he stood, tasting the air. It smelled familiar, of sickness and disease, and of horse. He knew this Gembound, although it had been a great while since he had seen them. The tiger had returned to his Chrysalis shortly after incubating the horse's disease, and had yet to put it to good use.

Slinking low to the ground, he stalked from his den. Looking around, he prowled towards the lamplight eyes of the plague horse, head high and muscles rolling beneath his hide.

"Khloros, hello. It has been a while." he greeted the plaguebringer idly.

@Khloros

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

The horse watched with absent curiosity as Bahamut strolled sinuously forth. This suddenly grew into recognition--the white coat, the black stripes--he knew this cub. Or well, this fully-grown tiger. His head came up, nostrils flaring and ears pricking in obvious interest--and Bahamut, it seemed, recognized him as well.

He found himself--of all things--faintly pleased. Perhaps it was merely the familiarity--the social connection. Or maybe, he reflected, he was only happy that his little plaguebearer, who had so readily accepted the spreading of death even so young as his true goal, was still alive--and so clearly working at his task.

"You are still serving death," Khloros noted, looking to the spiked bodies. The cub had never been friendly or loyal--in fact, their brief interaction had proven him demanding and dominant--but Khloros, truth be told, hadn't been paying much attention to that. He felt himself in little danger, instead interested in the cub's life and how he had grown, and what he had accomplished.

"And you have grown greatly. This is good. Are you well..?" he added. He looked to the bodies once more, lamplight eyes straying to them, wondering what had become of them. Wondering why Bahamut had chosen them--was it random, or had they aggravated him? Was he distributing death evenly to all of those he had met, or was he merely a predator?

It mattered little, perhaps, but Khloros did wonder.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Bahamut

The tiger observed the horse's reaction to him, head raising, nostrils flairing, and ears pricking. He couldn't help but to wonder if, perhaps, the horse felt fear. But the air did not smell of it, and the body language was not right.

Well, he didn't much mind. After all, Khloros had proven himself to be a worthy ally, and one he intended to use until he proved himself no longer of use.

The horse's appearance had changed little, and so he sat, wrapping his tail around his paws. The question made him nod his head, "I have, and yet you appear the same." he observed. "I am well, I still bear your plague. Do you still continue on with your task?"

@Khloros

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

Khloros considered, for a moment.

"I have been grown for a very long time," he answered at last. He wasn't sure how old he was, exactly, but he knew he'd been around for awhile, at least; he knew he'd been adult for far longer than a colt. And he knew that he'd been an adult for a long while, already, when he had met Bahamut.

Empty eyes travelled again over the white coat. He stood, for a moment, seeking thought in himself--looking for any reaction. Yet he felt only dulled: no emotion. He was not excited to see the cub, and the faint relief of seeing it still alive was faded. There was no curiosity or interest.

"I yet carry Death," he responded, at last.

And then, there was nothing more else to say. They were both killers, and Khloros had made little progress beyond wandering aimlessly and distributing his plague. For a long time, Khloros simply stared, his gaze still empty. He wasn't looking at Bahamut, but rather through him, past him, his own mind blank.

No... nothing more to say.

Khloros slowly turned, ambling back along the tunnel, slipping back away into the darkness.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Bahamut

exit Khloros (unless for some reason Bahamut wants to stop him)