They say if you want something done right, you should do it yourself.

Elayne didn't exactly believe in that, though. She liked being alive, and she enjoyed watching others suffer on her behalf. So if the job was done messily, horribly, and disgustingly, at least she hadn't wasted her own energy doing it.

But she figured, you know, a bit of encouragement might help.

"What are you doing?" Elayne hissed through her teeth at Ultraviolet, golden eyes narrowing into slits. "If you're going to get caught," her voice raised above the clatter, her voice demanding, "at least put up a fight!"

To say that Elayne was not helping was something of an understatement, but...

She was, uh, enjoying herself?

survival was a touch more important right now than fighting to the death against a boar with tusk and spines larger than itself, but maybe that was him being selfish.

ultraviolet elected to ignore elayne at that moment, blinking the horrible spots from his eyes. his vision swam in a swath of hot white and pitch black static, everything too sharp and too indistinct to make out. he fully expected, however, that the tank and its fellow tanks were going to come crashing down around it any second now, so once more it twisted on its heels, spinning to face the horde once more.

the shadows surrounding ultraviolet seemed to come to life on their own as he honed in on his target, eyes straining to discern the outline of the massive white boar. in reality, the shadows were corrupted insects, which swarmed and fled from the feline toward their target.

the bugs would fly into scorn, trying to bite and spread the infection of corrupted cells. the carapace mother had given scorn would protect them from a majority of the flies, but if too many managed to squirm into the dense fur and bite the flesh, the chaotic magic that ultraviolet gave would accelerate the disease they spread.

it was best not to stand still for too long. ultraviolet trembled with the effort, then pushed his feet to a sprint again. he hoped that would at least give him a fighting chance.

@Scorn (check UV's profile for information on Corrupted Cells!)

Bone banked, swerving down toward the round winged creature that had blasted its light for her. The cutting knife. The drowning well.

They were going to 'eat Dontacael.'

And they were rhyming, apparently-

But Bone's thoughts were drowned out by a horrific white haze. Mother rarely controlled her children directly--it was barely needed. In the moment, though, Bone was as if her mind had been wiped away. A white-hot fury drove her, a directed rage, and her own thoughts were subsumed by Mother's intensity of purpose. It did not matter--her will was Mother's. Whatever the Hive needed, Bone needed, too.

And right now, Mother wished to ignite blasphemy in righteous fire. (And perhaps drag it back to the Hive to rejoin family, whatever that meant.) If Bone had met Temperantia--she didn't remember. If Bone had been a merciful, kind soul--she didn't remember.

She was dragon, now: chaos, collared by Order and then unleashed.

She swept down, white leathery wings folding, limbs tucked up to chest and tail, jaw snapping open. White eyes went blind to detail, yet Mother saw through them.

There were no words, only that feral fury as a torrent of flame guttered out toward the angel, intent upon engulfing her.

@Temperantia

Temperantia hissed, eyes blinking in a wave along their shell. They followed the eye wave with a methodical stretch of their wings. They would judge that drone. As much as it wanted to seek its own righteous vengeance, Temperantia was thrown off course. The corner of their topmost eyes caught a mass of white, followed by a wave of orange heat. Their eyes snapped to the side, facing Bone.

They, too, sought Temperantia's punishment early then. Temperantia pushed themselves to the side with a heavy gust of wind. It was never a thought that they could, or would fail. Their purpose had been laid out. Their will was their fate, and their fate was their will. Which only made it ever more ironic when Bone's wave of radiant heat hit Temperantia anyways.

The angel, already once charred, felt a familiar pain blossom. Again, they would burn. The work of the opposite faction this time. Another delicious case of irony. In any case, Temperantia was engulfed in excruciating pain within seconds. Their screams were twinned as they caught alight. Their wings and shell burning to ash in the wake of that attack. An acrid scent hit the air as Temperantia was burned alive, shell, feathers, oil, and all.

"When I speak."

When I think.

There was no respite for Sergei, and surely not rest for the wicked. Alcina, too, had been blinded by rage as she preyed on the bear. Unlike Bone, it was not the controlling strings of Mother, but the drone's own fury at a potential sibling lost before she was born.

There was nothing ambiguous about how dire Sergei's situation was. White talons were decorated with the sprays of red blood. "How could you abandon us! Abandon Mother!" she howled, braying into the chaos of combat, inevitably drowned out by others' pained screams.

Her jaws yawn wide again, inner mandibles clicking eager together, before she latches onto him one last time, shaking him like a horrible evil crocodile, teeth flaying through his flesh.

By the time she finally drops him, they're both a bloody mess.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

The bear roared, a guttural, agonized sound. His head snapped back, skull smashing on stone, then lurched forward, desperation driving him. His spear--it was gone, clattered away; he could feel teeth tearing in his flesh, the jaws of Alcina hefting his bulk and ripping through it. She was perhaps mercifully saving him from the brutal venom of the Praetors lingering just behind her, but Sergei did not know that--perhaps neither did Alcina. All he knew was pain.

His head shot forward, jaws tearing for Alcina's in turn, massive paws with wicked claws slamming for the face that tore at him, trying in desperation to rend and tear. If he were lucky--perhaps he'd at least leave a scar. But he would not, as he'd hoped, fight Alcina off.

Nothing like.

The mass of white flesh and muscle thrashed, and he saw the world flung this way and that with terrible violence. Everything was going gray. Flickering. A spray of blood crossed his vision, and the bear had the distant, horrified realization that it had been his own.

Then the teal stone at his shoulder was crackling, spreading, rising up to consume him--dragging him down like a coffin, choking and enclosing. The terror of being buried alive nearly woke him, and as the blood-spattered chrysalis sealed, Sergei was visible just behind its translucent shell: savaged, afraid, trying even at the last instant to claw his way free of this form of death.

exit Sergei to chrysalis; @Alcina for visibility!

Look, Edric didn't know what was going on.

He didn't know about a war or any of that. He just liked coming to Canis because it was close to the Hole, and the vibes with the Bones and Death and all that were Simply Immaculate. There was simply no earthly pleasure like eating a dinner of half-rotted rat carcass, going to a dark, morbid Hole and getting amped up with some otherworldly Voices whispering Chaos into your brain, and then charging into Canis for some DESTRUCTIVE DESTRUCTION AND KNOCKING DOWN ALL THE DESPICABLE ORDERLY BONE TOWERS.

Only THIS time, there was a FIGHT ALREADY GOING ON! Edric LOVED fights, because HE ALWAYS WON. He had NOT GOTTEN INTO A PROPER FIGHT FOR CYCLES, which was a DARN SHAME because he had been ITCHING FOR AN EXCUSE TO USE HIS MUTATED WEAPONS.

HEY! That right there was another HUGE SPIKY BOAR! Edric HATED that. EDRIC DID NOT APPROVE OF PLAGIARISM. AND it was TWO FEET TALLER than him! That was simply NOT ALLOWED. Edric roared with fury and immediately broke into a limping charge at the thing, aiming to SLAM RIGHT INTO IT with all his ARMOR and SPIKES and every thing. HOPEFULLY GET IT TRIPPED UP AND ON THE GROUND SO HEIGHT WAS NO LONGER AN ISSUE. EDRIC HATED BEING SMALLER THAN THINGS, ESPECIALLY INFERIOR PLAGIARIZED COPIES OF HIMSELF.

"ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" he roared as he went. For, you know, INTIMIDATION PURPOSES.



@SCORN

δεξιά . κέντρο . αριστερά

Allies of anyone but themselves? Kerberos didn't know what to make of that comment, but if Giggle believed it, it must have been true. (Such was the steadfast belief he held in his adoptive mother.) Kerberos shifted on his paws, restless and uneasy as the sounds of bones and carapace crunching set his nerves on edge.

Death wasn't an option. Not for them. Maybe-- Definitely not for Giggle. "I won't let them hurt you," Kerberos promised, raising his heavy front paw. The deep scar that lined his forelimb lead down to the mookaite stone in his paw, glinting in the light. If he had to fight them all, he would.

It sounded like the best option was to fall back and regroup. Giggle would undo whatever strangeness these strangers were bringing here. "Ask the bones," he agreed with a wag of his tail.

Kerberos reached his noses down, gently prodding at Giggle. It would have been a better idea to fully communicate, but it became clear as his magic reached out to Giggle exactly what he was doing. No matter what, we will be okay. His thoughts washed over Giggle, their minds linking together. The surge of protective energy, a massive wall of confidence and determination rose up from under their paws.

He did not-- intentionally-- try to pry into Giggle's mind, but the wall had crumbled between them. We cannot be separated, his promises stacked upon each other, like a shield raising to defend her. It might have been a bit overwhelming, the constant tirade of his thoughts-- but at least Giggle had some familiarity with sharing a mind with another. The Bonebound will survive this. Let's go! The bones!! The bones will know what we must do.

He nudged her with his snouts again, turning about to make his retreat away from the forces of Order-- to regroup and seek guidance.

@Giggle kerb exit unless stopped <3

The blinding light from the false angel, the shape of the oil beast as it scrambled away from Scorn's goring tusks, Ace diving towards the former and sending it clattering against a cavern wall - They sent the Juggernaut into a stupor. so many things happening at once, so many creatures, friend and foe, to keep track of, its blessing of its many eyes twisting into a curse as it was overwhelmed by so much visual stimuli.

But he was brought back, retrieved, rescued - he felt Mother's voice wash over his battle-weary mind. His siblings in Eridanus had succeeded - and so would they.

He did not flinch at the second burst of light, Bone's response to the previous offense. The pained screams fell on deaf ears - as did the roars of the bear. Its eyes glanced to the flash of blood, drawn to the contrast more than anything else. It watched a shell of stone form around him as Alcina ripped and shredded and tore at whatever flesh she could reach. He felt love - she had done such a good job, protecting them from the threat, razing the caves of one undeserving of Mother's embrace, even if it was only for a few weeks.

She would win. They were going to win.

Another complication (insignificant, of course) charged his way to intercept Scorn. As much as it wanted to interfere, to skewer it on a bloodied claw and begin to feed, it settled for the smaller of the two attackers, hoping to ease its sibling of some of that weight. It clicked after the little cat, tendrils shooting out and seeking flesh - he would baptise them in blood, which was a completely sane and normal thing to think and want

@Ultraviolet

ultraviolet might have objected to being called little: it had been many cycles since he had been a little kitten, full of innocence and naivety.

it was just that everything else was fuck-off huge.

including the tendrils that lunged at him like heat-seeking missiles. there was little ultraviolet could do-- perhaps, if he had more time, more practice with his magic, less time spent being torn down and remade-- he would have the capacity to hold his own against the relentless Order that sought to destroy his almost perfect form.

... he did not have that, however. his time was quickly running out of grains of sand, dwindling away.

run, little kitty, run. you have nine lives. you had nine lives. where did they all go?

the feline scrambled through the bone-laid cave, dodging one after another of the juggernaut's relentless strikes. but he simply couldn't dodge it all, nor could he completely outrun the mammoth tank of Mother's Divine Creation. though he was reaching the tunnel exit-- not the one he had come from, but a different tunnel entirely: one of crystals, perfect and imperfect reflections-- one of the tendrils skewered him in his rear leg.

immediately the limb was disabled, tendons severed in a way that made it drag behind him even after he wrenched the rest of himself free and continued with his five good legs away from danger. the cavern itself may as well have been lit on fire for how his nerves screamed from the toxins that flooded through his body. his vision swam, but adrenaline continued to pump through his body, surging him onward.

oh well, complained a voice that belonged to no one but a false phantom conjured by ultraviolet's agonized mind, next time, you'll be perfect.

ultraviolet will be attempting to flee for tunnel L next round, but is pretty badly injured and vulnerable