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+--- Thread: Stage Two: Altar (/showthread.php?tid=8729)
Stage Two: Altar - Monstroid - Sep 23 2020
fatality, the Spire had nearly declared, but the baby had risen again. And then, It had traveled. It had "followed Its heart", like a Disney princess. Did Disney princesses often find themselves at a gibbering, pitch black hole? The cub didn't know. It had never seen a Disney movie before.
It had also never felt the presence of another before. When It had hatched, no one had been there. None to feed It. None to cherish It. Not that anyone would know how. It didn't need any of those things, either. It had come out for absolutely no reason, and yet It had come out prepared. For what?
The darkness was enticing, for whatever reason, to the fresh mind. The smoothness, the cold. Something drew It in. Something prickled Its skin. Whatever could've felt "wrong" flew over the baby's head. The deeper It descended, the more It felt... presence. Something new. Unintelligible whispers in Its ears. A baby's adaptiveness allows it to mimic. Was this baby supposed to follow along?
It would try, giggling and gibbering along with the whispers. The baby's pace would increase as It came ever closer, as the whispers grew not necessarily in volume but in consistency, until there was nowhere the cub could stand where the whispers weren't heard. Trying to figure them out might've proved maddening. But It had no concept of what language was meant to look like. This whole cave was the first 'adult' it had ever met. "Whah whaa wah wah ghoo shoosh beb wiff weh wooooo!" It proudly declared, to no one in particular. To the air. To the whispers! Like them, Its tone was hushed. It didn't know why what they were talking about was scandalous. It didn't even know what they were talking about.
The baby continued to wander around in here, having no where else in particular to be. It wanted to be here, swaddled in blissful ignorance and a bundle of baby fuzz. But then again, if It had known more about this place before entering, It would probably want to be here anyways. It might have even sought it out. And why? Well...
Who can say? I suppose only me, at this point. Anyways, HARK! Lo and behold, glistening and shimmering with a nefarious and malicious gleam, an ALTAR! The panda cub approached it, wishing to stand as "on top of it" as It could. "I'ma spooky! Don' wanna be rock anymore! WHO YOU ARE?!!?!" The panda began to yell at the top of Its lungs.
RE: Stage Two: Altar - Game Master Dark - Sep 23 2020
The white of the panda was black, in this malevolent gleam. The brown was a pale, unsettling gray-blue. Little claws scrabbled against Oilstone, the sound echoing, as if fighting the whispers for dominance.
The sense of the unnatural throbbed here, a smoldering, lurking threat of the unpredictable: but nothing happened. The child would be further tainted by the Altar's corruption--perhaps it could not meditate, but this was as close as a child could come, to such things.
The sense of the unnatural throbbed here, a smoldering, lurking threat of the unpredictable: but nothing happened. The child would be further tainted by the Altar's corruption--perhaps it could not meditate, but this was as close as a child could come, to such things.
@Monstroid
RE: Stage Two: Altar - Monstroid - Sep 24 2020
The panda cub stamped its foot down on the funny rock stuff, which is what I will now be calling the Altar. "FINE IF YOU DON' WANNA SAY!! I don' wanna say also." Then there had to be another way to communicate besides screaming and whispers. Something more... physical. What the child thought it was doing here was entirely unknown to itself. It wanted to talk to the whispers. It wanted to talk to someone. Maybe it would talk via... dance.
Its body felt the urge to move. It put its front paws in the air and started wiggling around like crazy. It then brought them down in an attempt to slam the funny rock stuff. And then it decided to dangle. To flop. To roll around and hop! To boogie and to woogie 'til it... got tired and dropped.
It would curl up in a ball beside the funny rock stuff, if nothing had happened all throughout its dance, and it would try to sleep. A good dance could tucker out some little babies real fast. Somehow the strangeness and the danger of this place was either like an airplane in the sky to the little panda, or that unnatural lurking felt... right at home. Perhaps the panda was making this state familiar to itself. Who honestly knew what it was doing. It was a baby panda for goodness sake.
RE: Stage Two: Altar - Monstroid - Sep 24 2020
"BOKAY I'MA GO GE' SOM FOODIES NOW!" The little panda was finding it hard to sleep on a... very empty stomach.
It crawled out, creeped down one of the tunnels. It'd take a while, but It was sure Its whispering friends could hold their appetites. Because that's what It had been doing. Ever since It had hatched. Twice.
Except, whispers seemed to... follow It? Huh. Maybe they were hungry enough to come with It and look for some foodies together. Well okay then! It wandered close to the big wompster peaking out from the entrance. That wompster didn't seem to move. That was okay! This baby wompster would be a moving one. And it would-- F̸̢̻͓͛̓̔Í̵̦̻̝͆͝Ǹ̸͎͔͇̚͝D̴̦̙̺͑̓͠ I̵͖̒̔̕͜T̵͍̻̙͋͝͠ D̸̢̺̪͐͒͝E̴̞̪͇͒̔̾S̵̫̘͖͒̈́̈́T̴̠̠͇́̈́͊R̵̞͑͑͆͜͜O̵̡̼͚̔̕̕Y̸̟͇͔͑͆͋ I̸̻̺̘͆̈́T̸͇̝̪̔̓͠ C̸̙̠͚̾̓̒A̴̺͉̺͛̀̕R̸̡̠͛̐̕͜V̴̢̘̿͆͝E̸̙͕̦̒̈́͠ I̴̘̻̓́͠T̵̠͓̫̒͐̕ Ö̸̝̟͕́̓̿U̵̡̪͌̐̕T̸̢̻̦͋͑͘ C̴̪̪͉̒͌̀O̴̘͔̻̾͛͠N̴̘̞̐̓S̸̙͖̿̒͆U̵͍̟͉̓̕M̸̡̦̙̽͝E̸͉͓͍̔͝͠ I̴̢͓͓͊̈́̿T̵̙̪͇́̔͝ C̴̙͔̈́͊̿O̸̠͙͉̒͒̾N̴̢̟͎̾̐͑S̴͖̙͇͊̒̀Ù̵̡̝͖͆̀M̸̺̞͠͝E̴͖̞̓͊̚ I̸̢̘̘͐͝͠T̵͕͍̪̾̈́̚ C̴̫͕̪͒̐́O̴͚̠͎̾̓͋Ǹ̸̦͖͔͠S̸̪͇̼̈́̔͒U̴̢͙͙̐̈́́M̴̢͎̼̐͠͝Ë̸͔̪̠́̚ Ì̸͉͓̪͠T̵̘͇͙̈́͊͌ --- Exactly!
And thus, the baby panda would take the time to find and beat up a scampering, stray rat. To death. It would take... long. Long. Was the panda toying...? No, not really, just inexperienced. Voices egged It on, visions flashed by as It went on about its laborious and gruesome task. Eventually, It finished, and in the end... there was oil.
"Foodies!"
A putrid and disgusting meal. It burned as it went down, and it didn't taste very good at all, and the panda baby wanted to get it back out but-- well, um, the voices kept egging It on, and, and, she... didn't know what else to eat... It felt so hungry...
Chaos seeping further. The little panda... did not seem too afraid.
When It was done, the baby panda went elsewhere, to sleep. It felt uncomfortable, but this was the life It had been born into, so this was the life It would lean to manage or die trying.
- exit via beloved snooze -