E P I D E M I C

Here, his third target.

There was enough stagnant water here, enough mist, enough rotting, muddy earth and half-forgotten carrion, to hold and to spread his disease. Cetus' dark fog held myriad scurrying rats, buzzing insects, bats... It would be perfect. An incubation: a nest, a home for his illness to fester and spread.

Khloros began to make his way through the thick mist, a shadow in the dark, the sickly green-white glow of his eyes illuminating the fog with a dim, blurry glow from a distance. He had not yet explained why he was doing this--nobody knew, yet. They might not realize until it was too late.

With a soft snort he lowered his head, nuzzling over a dead fish that some predator or other had left behind--and spread a thick layer of half-clotted blood over its slimy scales, leaving a touch of his illness behind.

Lie there, and rest; grow there, and spread. Serve, as I serve you.

The disease would hopefully linger in the rotting fish--only to infect anyone who consumed it, be they Lesser or Greater Gembound.

Khloros, meanwhile, moved onward into the mist, searching for the next medium for his disease, his black silhouette rapidly fading from sight.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

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

Bahamut

Not too far from Khloros, was a Chrysalis. It fit the environment well, a sickly brown color, half buried in the swamp. Once couldn't be blamed for overlooking the Chrysalis, as it didn't gleam, or draw one's attention in any way.

However, if anyone did happen to notice it, they would find themselves unable to look away. It was beginning to jerk from side to side, as though something inside were trying to get out. Little cracks would appear before, suddenly, a very large white paw would break from. This was followed by shoulders of the same color, and then a large cub, easily much larger than a tiger cub had any right to be, would tumble out of the Chrysalis.

A large, square head, covered in light brown stripes, shook from side to side. The little creature was cute, much too cute to belong to anything in the swamp. But large, feral, eerie red eyes would glisten, looking around as he became aware. 'This is mine.' He looked around, nodding. Yes, this would do nicely.

After getting to his feet, he would begin to walk forward, observing his domain. However, as he did so, he became aware of a large, black silhouette, and he rushed forward to meet it. "You!" he thundered, with a voice too deep for his frame. "What are you doing?"


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

Khloros paused. He remained facing away and broadside, his tall form shrouded in mist, and only at length--after listening to the newcomer's words--did he slowly turn his head to stare down.

The creature was young, by all appearances. Some distant part of Khloros knew that this cub, even less than others, might not understand any if not all of what he was doing, should he explain it clearly. He considered, anad put it as simply as he could.

"I am," he rasped, quietly and carefully, "spreading death throughout the caves, little one. I am sorry for the era into which you are born."

Faint pity stirred him. The young ones--the newly-born--they should not be involved in this. Could his timing have been wrong? ...But no. His replacement had already arrived. Perhaps...

Were these replacements? Were they the cave's way of trying to undo his work? If so, he was just on time. The young, too, would perish--as sad as it was. It would save them, in the long run.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Bahamut

Bahamut

The cub stood, his stance wide and proud, as he waited for the horse to turn to face him. If Khloros didn't turn to face him, he'd make him. Although, some instinct deep inside him told him he really didn't want to touch the horse's oozing, dripping flesh. That didn't stop him, however, from glaring up at Khloros. He didn't even flinch at the sight of the inhuman beast turning to face him. Feral red eyes met dead-seeming white ones, which had a sickly gleam.

He snarled, baring needle-like fangs. However, the other's words drew his attention, and he flattened his lips over his fangs. "Spreading death through the caves?" he echoed, tilting his head in thought. After a moment he nodded. He wasn't strong enough, or powerful enough, to do such on his own. But with Khloros on his side, perhaps...

"I am going to help you." he declared, squaring himself up and staring down the horse. "What do I do?" His voice brooked no argument.

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

Khloros stared down at the little thing sidelong, with one glowing eye, then slowly shuffled and stepped forward. He examined it closely.

Another youth. Do they truly know what it is that they ask? Yet this one seems to know. It is his purpose. A black horse; a white cat. Perhaps.

He lifted his head again, standing silent in the mist and considering, and then explained.

"I spread death, a black plague amongst the living. It is an end to pain. It is a gift. If you, too, can carry this illness, then you may spread it, too. But, if you cannot control the legion of life within, unseeable to the eye--then it will destroy you, as well. And in your work, others will all turn against you."

He gave this warning solemnly. If the cat accepted all of this--if it wished to be truly plagued--then Khloros would oblige. If not... he was unsure what else he could offer.

One ear flicked; he could hear a light scurrying some distance behind, where he'd left the fish. He strode over, and observed--there were rats, there, already tearing at the food.

With a sudden burst of speed he charged, pinning one by the tail--and a moment later, a single brush of his muzzle over it, slicking it with pus, and it was infected. He felt the gray flickering surge of power, and when he released it, he knew he was done.

He turned to move back to the cub, unless it had followed. "That one," he rasped down to it, "now carries death."

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

((Please do try to remember to tag! I didn't even see this x_x sorry!))

@Bahamut

Bahamut

The tiger cub's face was more serious than he had a right to be, glowering up at the horse's glowing eye as though challenging him to say no. If the horse tried to say no, he'd unleash his vengeance upon it.

"A black plague? A gift? An end to pain?" he echoed with a mocking snarl. Why would one want to end another's pain? But, this sounded like great fun, and as though it might cause suffering before their ends. He was, most definitely, in.

A rounded ear twitched, picking up a scurrying sound. Following the horse, he saw some caverats tearing into rotten fish. Before he could blink, the horse was pinning the rat, slicking it with puss, before... releasing it!? Oh, he understood. It would return to its fellows, and spread the illness. Oh, that was brilliant!

"I want to help." he spoke decisively.

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

@Khloros

The horse turned, pricking his ears, then bobbed his head slightly in a thoughtful nod. If this creature wished to help--if it understood the risks... well, perhaps its birth had been timed so by fate. Perhaps it was meant to be his aid.

"Then come, and I will give you my gift. You must learn to carry it carefully, and not allow it to overrun your body," he said, his rasping voice carrying a slight tone of gentle warning. The little creature's aggression was mostly lost on him--cats had attacked him before, and tended to set off all those instincts that warned him of predators, but his instincts were dulled at best, regardless. And this one was so small, so young, that he mistook its hate for mere youthful fire.

Quiet, he stepped forward, shaking his mane, and focused. His head lowered, the gray haze of bacteria shimmering in his mind.

I must let him take it himself. He must do it his own way, or I may kill him on accident.

The pus on Khloros's nose was thick, rank with illness. He felt the disease concentrate there, albeit slowly due to his caution, and again he spoke.

"If you bear the ability, then you must step forward, and focus. You must take what I carry onto yourself. But you must be very careful." He wasn't sure what magic the young one held--or even how to properly describe the spell. But surely, if he were Khloros's fated ally in his mission, he would know.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Bahamut

Bahamut

Bahamut stared at the horse, waiting for his answer. He wouldn't take a no, but the horse may be fool enough to try. Thankfully, the horse seemed to nod, as though accepting his offer. Good, the horse had some sense in it.

He furrowed his brow, trying to think on how this would be done. But something inside him told him it could be done. He just had to put his mind to it, he supposed.

The tiger cub stepped forward, reaching up to touch his nose to Khloros'. The pus on the horse's nose ran onto his, and suddenly his chest felt very heavy. Hell, he'd messed up!

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

Bahamut

Feeling his chest feel heavy, as though filled with phlem, the cub sneezed. He focused his magic, feeling some sense of relief as a sudden chill came over him. His chest felt much lighter, and he could breathe easier, as well.

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

Bahamut

Shaking his head, he waited for the Magick to run through him and fade away before trying again. Bahamut scowled, trying to focus his magick, trying to get it under control. Then, once he'd done so, he would attempt to use it to absorb the horse's disease, without getting ill himself.

The puss ran over his nose, coating his fur, and he smirked, baring needle-like fangs, as he didn't feel ill. Instead, he felt as though he had control over the illness, feeling it swirl in his gem.

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

@Khloros