The Disciple (
feralfanatic) wrote in
vatheon2012-03-30 12:27 am
Entry tags:
Terror under the sea
Who: The Disciple and whoever
Where: The Plaza, The forest, and the path in between.
When: Early morning 3/29
Style: whatever suits your fancy.
Status: Open
Water. She was Wet.
She came to lying down, somehow drenched in saltwater. Blood mingled with seawater, on her hands and face. The Disciple was unable to remember how she got here. She seemed to be in some sort of city. A heavy fear caught in her chest. She shook herself awake to figure out where exactly she was.
"Where...am..." Her voice cracked from disuse.
Her conscious brain began shutting down as her senses were pounded with information. The sights and sounds of this new place, hammered into her mind. Unfamiliar beings were all around her, some even looking at her, in the open. Her mind scrambled for purchase. Worst of all was the scent. With so many...things together in this dome, compounded with the ever-present smell of seawater. Flooded with input, her animal brain took over.
FLEE!
DANGER!
Finally, she caught wind of a familiar scent. Trees; there were trees here. She flung herself after the scent, knocking aside anything in her path. Desperate for survival she attempted back alleys and other paths that didn't reek of these many strange beings.
She fled to the southeast.
Where: The Plaza, The forest, and the path in between.
When: Early morning 3/29
Style: whatever suits your fancy.
Status: Open
Water. She was Wet.
She came to lying down, somehow drenched in saltwater. Blood mingled with seawater, on her hands and face. The Disciple was unable to remember how she got here. She seemed to be in some sort of city. A heavy fear caught in her chest. She shook herself awake to figure out where exactly she was.
"Where...am..." Her voice cracked from disuse.
Her conscious brain began shutting down as her senses were pounded with information. The sights and sounds of this new place, hammered into her mind. Unfamiliar beings were all around her, some even looking at her, in the open. Her mind scrambled for purchase. Worst of all was the scent. With so many...things together in this dome, compounded with the ever-present smell of seawater. Flooded with input, her animal brain took over.
FLEE!
DANGER!
Finally, she caught wind of a familiar scent. Trees; there were trees here. She flung herself after the scent, knocking aside anything in her path. Desperate for survival she attempted back alleys and other paths that didn't reek of these many strange beings.
She fled to the southeast.

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She snuggled up with her, completely trusting, one hand patting her ancestor's cheek as she gladly submitted to having her face licked or her hair fussed with or whatever the older troll thought was appropriate grooming at the time.
Each lap or hug was met with a giggle, hoping to perhaps hear the Disciple laugh with her, having caught that earlier giggle and wanting to hear her make the sound once more. It was an echo of a different troll than the feral one she'd met here mere minutes ago, an echo of who she knew the Disciple to really be.
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A look of confusion crossed the elder greenblood's face. She had stumbled upon a strange marking on the skin of the young one, during her attentions. Carefully, she traced a small part of the design with the tip of her claw.
"What...this?" She asked, her voice still raspy. One eye raised in query.
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"It's a mark everyone that was brought here has. It shows that we're not locals. And since they were the ones who took us away from our homes, if we show it to them in their shops they let us have food and blankets and things, and whatever else we need. A hive, too. I've got a very nice hive, I share it with Tavros. That's my matesprit. Would you like to visit it purrhaps?"
She spoke slowly, trying to make it easy for her ancestor to understand her. She'd feel a lot better if she had her safely with her and Tavros rather than leaving her wandering on her own out here, not that she doubted for a moment that the other troll could look after herself.
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At the mention of the visit with her matesprit, finally looked up from her search. She had already examined the easily viewed parts of her arms, and had started on her legs. Her right foot held aloft, she had been looking at the bottom of her foot, still no success. But the young greenblood's question managed to grab her attention.
"Meet mate, yes. Make sure he safe, yes." She nodded then recommenced her search.
She had finished her legs and had started on the hard to see parts of her arm. The odd mark becoming visible just above her left shoulder-blade. Impossible for her to see, but quite visible to Nepeta.
and then Equius ruined everything
"Nepeta?"
He follows the sound, blundering through the bushes and into the small clearing, where he sees his moirail and... who is that?
One would think he'd immediately make the connection and realize that's Nepeta's ancestor, but no. No, he's just going to stand there stupidly and stare.
Re: and then Equius ruined everything
Highblood.
Her feral mind smashed free of its cage, instantly resuming control. In one smooth motion she exploded up from her position on the ground into her savage fighting stance. She bared her fangs and claws at the interloper, announcing her ill intent with a fierce hiss.
Her new found protective instinct refused to be utterly forgotten, she would protect the little one from the filth. She positioned herself in between the two other trolls. Without looking back she took a deliberate step forward.
"Run!" She announced to Nepeta, unable to keep the hatred from flavoring her voice.
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She lifted one hand to tap just over the Disciple's shoulderblade to let her know where the mark was, but then she found herself tumbling off the other greenblood a splitsecond after she recognized her moirail's voice.
Ever agile, she landed on her feet in spite of being startled and twisted around to try and sense the danger, to locate whatever it was that had made the Disciple react so fiercely and prepare to defend both her and her moirail.
It took her a second to realize that it was her moirail himself that had her so spooked.
"No!" she cried out, flinging her arms around her ancestor's waist to make sure she didn't try to pounce him. "It's just Equius! He won't hurt us!" She darted a panic-filled glance at her moirail - no, no, no, this wasn't how she wanted things to go at all!
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Equius freezes, suddenly aware of the very feral, very wild-eyed troll standing between he and his moirail. He's not afraid of getting hurt himself, but he has no idea what this adult might do to Nepeta, and while he's stopped believing adult trolls will eat wigglers on sight... this one tests the theory.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, keeping them out of sight and out of danger, not realizing how that might be misinterpretted as threatening, not realizing that not everyone knows about his STRONG problem, and lowers his eyes so he's looking at the ground.
"I won't hurt you. You or Nepeta."
feels bad, man.
Something grabbed her around the waist. Her mind refused to process what had actually happened.
A TRAP!
DANGER!
She dropped herself even lower, attempting to catch her assailant off-balance. Then, taking advantage of it, the elder greenblood attempted an anger fueled throw over her back, flinging herself free of her threat.
no subject
And then she found herself flying through the air
Skills honed by years of hunting helped slightly so that she fell in a way that softened the worst of the blow, but the Disciple was far stronger and faster than her, and as she hit the ground the impact hurt, jolting her so hard she was sure she'd broken something. Green poured down her chin from where she'd bitten through her lip and she couldn't manage to get to her feet, but she was still trying to crawl in between them, to stop either of them from hurting the other.
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Equius' voice is a cry of anguish, and he springs into action, rushing towards his moirail. What if she's hurt, what if something happened?!
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The still standing highblood yelled a threat and starting rushing forward. The greenblood readied herself for a lethal strike. The Highblood headed not for her, however. It rushed to the side of the downed enemy, a look of concern obvious on its face. Olive blood still covering the downed troll's face. The young female troll...young...female...
No... no... no no....
The little one, she had...
Realization hit her like a plummeting meteor. The elder greenblood recoiled from herself as if struck, falling to her knees. She had hurt the little one. She was a monster. Her claw-tipped hands clutched at her head, breaking skin. Olive blood starting to flow from fresh gouges.
She would need to get away, she could not allow herself to hurt the little one any further. But the Beast craved blood.
She tried to say something, anything, to the little greenblood. All that came out was a feral scream. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER!?
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"It's the Disciple, she's my ancestor, Equius, she's just scared," was the most explanation she could manage, wincing even at that much, and outright shuddering when at the same time the other greenblood let out that awful scream.
Her head jerked in her direction, looking shocked, afraid to see her charging at them but instead noticing the way the Disciple was clutching at her head, rough enough to make herself bleed.
"No, don't, please, you'll hurt yourself!" She struggled to get to her feet, scrunching her face against the pain. The Disciple was...upset? Unhappy because she'd hurt her? She couldn't be sure but she wanted to hope so, because that meant maybe she'd stop and listen to them. "I'm okay, really, look..."
no subject
"I won't let her hurt you again, Nepeta," he tells her, his teeth gritting together, partially in anger at the older troll, partially in frustration at his own inadequacies. "I don't care if she's scared, she's not hurting you again." He looks up, his face half-contorted with rage, at the cowering adult. He's not afraid of the grown troll; he's Darkleer's descendent, he carries the blood of Archeradicators, and this bitch is not hurting his moirail again!
The Disciple needs...help.
The elder greenblood pulled her hands back from her head, still stained olive. She briefly stared at her hands, looking almost puzzled. She was unable to recall how the blood got there. Her gaze raised to take in the highblood.
It had all been fine till it showed up. Now the little was hurt, and the filth was next to her. Her eyes flared angrily in false realization. It had hurt Nepeta. Kill it. KILL IT.
She let out a growl, her voice growing low and bitter. "Touch...her and...DIE!" she forced through bared fangs. The Disciple took a single step forward, claws outstretched.
Oh noes...
At the same time she was stroking Equius' cheek, trying to calm him down and soothe him and hopefully show the adult troll facing them that he wasn't as dangerous as she was sure he seemed just then. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm fine, really, I'm not hurt, shhhh, everything's okay..."
casually makes things worse
"I will end you, oliveblood," he growls at the Disciple, hardly feeling the way Nepeta is stroking his cheek and trying to calm him down. "I will make you pay for hurting my moirail."
now she makes it awkward...
Wait...
...What?
Her eyes were not confusing her, that really was the little one carefully caressing the cheek of the highblood. Bewildered by what she was seeing, the beast inside of her hesitated. Making use of that as a springboard, the elder troll forced the beast to the side and took control.
Recent memories cascaded back into place. She was the one who hurt the little one, not this newcomer. He was acting in defense of her, and she of him. The highblood filth was protecting her from me, the crazed monster. One question stuck in her mind. Her fighting stance dropping to one of acquiescence, one arm stayed up, gesturing towards the blueblood.
"You said, mate was brownblood," she asked, speaking more surely, "Not this...thing." Anger still pulsed through her, but it was being kept in check.
SO AWKWARD...
There was a growl in her voice as she told him off, but that didn't mean she hadn't gone right back to papping at his face. He was more likely to listen if the edge was taken off of his anger.
And then Disciple blindsided her with that question.
She turned back towards her, hand frozen mid-pap, part of her noting with relief that she seemed somewhat calm and reasonable again. Another part of her flailing because damn it Equius wasn't a thing, and was that really how their relationship looked, or was the Disciple still just confused.
"Moirail," she corrected her. "Equius is my moirail." She held her hands up in front of her in the age-old diamond sign representing moirallegiance, since perhaps a visual would better help the other troll to understand. "My matesprit is a brownblood, I didn't have to tell you, you smelled him on me, remember?"
no subject
Deep in his chest, he keeps rumbling. From a distance, it might almost be mistaken for a purr, but up close, it's very glaringly a growl, a warning to stay back.
no subject
She had to somehow make it better.
KILL IT. BEFORE IT KILLS YOU! Her bestial mind howled for vengeance; for blood.
NO.
Not again. She would not lose herself again.
A unthinking step forward.
She knew what she would do. It was stupid, and the feral part of her mind screamed in protest. The elder greenblood, focusing arduously, forced it silent.
A second heedless step, then a third and fourth. The Disciple stood still for a a couple seconds, her features giving away her inner turmoil. Ultimately she allowed herself to fall, landing hard on her knees, arms slack at her sides. RUN. KILL. SOMETHING...NO. It would be this way.
With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and exposed her throat to the blueblood; Her mind on fire with opposition.
no subject
"Equius...Equius, put me down, please..." She'd jump down but wasn't quite feeling up to being jarred again so soon, and anyway she couldn't predict what her moirail would do if it looked like she was running back into danger.
"You know how hard it is fur a troll to make themselves vulnerable like that!" In fact, Nepeta hadn't ever even seen it happen before outside of quadrants, and it only made her need to rush over there and comfort her ancestor even more. "She really didn't mean to hurt me, you can see she didn't, please, Equius, let me go to her, she was looking after me before you got here, she was only scared you meant to hurt us." The small greenblood looked frantically between her moirail and her ancestor; the adult had made the first move to smooth over the sitation, surely Equius was capable of accepting it?
no subject
But then she knelt and exposed her neck like that, and Equius is lost. He has no idea what to do here, and so just stands there, stupidly, until Nepeta's voice and the way she's tugging on him penetrate the fog. He crouches and puts Nepeta down, but he's not leaving. He waits, unsure how this is going to play out.
no subject
A brief flash of insight struck her. She had been here before, or at least somewhere similar. Kneeling in front of a blueblood, terrified. When was that? where...? Just as quickly the thought was gone, leaving her unable to remember anything else from that night.
The Disciple stayed put, her disquiet growing.
no subject
A couple of steps brought her up close to her ancestor again and then she was crouching, lifting a hand to the adult's cheek before she thought better of it and spoke instead. "It's okay, Miss Disciple. Look, I'm fine. Everything's going to be fine, I promise."
She tilted her head, a strange younger mirror-image of the troll in front of her, offering the same trust and resignation that the Disciple had shown them. And if it was accepted she'd lean forward to nuzzle against the older troll's exposed throat, rewarding trust with kindness and affection, showing her it was okay to offer them that trust, that it was a welcomed gift that wouldn't be used against her.
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