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originally posted in:The New Dojo
11/23/2016 2:29:19 AM
1
[i] Madness was right..as a rule of thumb, darkness was a second home to a Wetboy, shadows holding them when no one else could.
But this darkness..it felt alive, and completely abysmal at the same time. It felt..wrong.
And that was baby/goat not withstanding. Whatever the hell that was, and whoever was singing a lullaby..it gave Desmond the creeps. [/i]
English
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All of the sudden, Desmond feels something stab into the front of his shoulders. Two skeletal limbs that were disjointed and oozing an unnatural black essence were digging themselves into his shoulders, drawing blood that somehow made the child cry even louder. The limbs seized his legs as the figure stood up with the child. Tentacles of slick darkness extended from the empty space where its face would be beneath its hood, extending hungrily towards Desmond.
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[i] Desmond screamed unintentionally, the abrupt feeling of having his shoulders pierced enough to get him to exclaim out in pain. What the hell had he gotten himself into.. He tried to take a step back, only to find his legs were being held in place..while a very weird and scary figure approached him. Great.[/i]
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The roiling figure of darkness stood in front of him with its demonic Satyr child. Nothing about it seemed malicious, but the mere sight of it inspired thoughts of insanity. Madness crept through Desmond's mind as his sanity slowly began to slip away into the infinite void swirling within the figure's face. With more painful stabs that drew blood, the tall skeletal tree-like figures holding Desmond in place cut open his chest. The figure proceeded to place the child within his torso, the pain eventually turning into more madness - for not even pain could wake Desmond from this nightmare.
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[i] He continued to scream..and scream..and scream. It was like he was in a pit of nothingness, with nothing but pain for a companion. It was maddening and frankly, he wanted it to stop. His mind was blank except for the screams and the misery, the darkness and pain threatening to swallow him whole..[/i]
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"Damn, we're losing him!" Lucien shouts as black smoke rolls off of Desmond's body in waves. His back was splayed open like some red blossom, held by metal spikes placed by Lucien as he extracted the knives embedded into his flesh. Inoculating Desmond with the Black Ram's inoculation was a risky move, but a necessary one to keep him alive. Lucien looked over to his blade for a moment before shaking his head. He would make it through. He placed his gas mask over Desmond's face and turned up the fume release to maximum. This amount of Tribal herbs would kill any normal man, but the sheer power of the hallucinogens would be somewhat of a countermeasure against the Black Ram's maddening power. ~~~ The child is somehow absorbed into Desmond's chest, its cries still somehow reverberating within his body. Insanity scratched at Desmond's insides like an angry tiger, and had it not been for the creatures holding him in place he would've clawed his insides out himself. [i]Focus.[/i] A voice rang out amidst the darkness, past the cries and lullabies of insanity. A voice unseen, yet felt in Desmond's mind. [i]You do not control the Dark Aries or its younglings. Embrace the abyss. You are an extension of it, not its master. Men have interpreted dreams and the Gods have laughed. Accept that you are another part of the beast and your mind shall hold onto consciousness for longer.[/i] This voice was not Lucien's - not anyone Desmond has heard before. [i]Gaze into the pit and let the Ram take hold. Gods do not trouble themselves with the desires of man, but respect it nonetheless with acceptance.[/i]
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[i] If the voice in Desmond's head had phrased it any differently, if it had spoken like Desmond would serve this Dark Aries, he would've laughed in it's face. He didn't serve anyone. But he could feel, that it didn't want control of him, it didn't want to bend him to its will. No, it was exactly what it said. He was an extension of it, he was a part of it now. And he had to live with it. Prices had to be paid sometimes. Desmond attempted to clear his head of the maddening darkness and encroaching insanity, focusing on the one solitary beacons of sense; the voice in his head. [/i]
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[i]Loyalty is a human objective. The Gods do not worry themselves with such things. But be warned - the beast that lurks within you is always hungry. Yet you must sate it to the point of bare control. Do not think it is your friend. Do not think it is your enemy. Do not think it is below you. Do not think it is higher than you.[/i] The lullabies slowly faded away as Desmond's focus on the voice cleared his mind of most of the madness. Within his beating heart, where the infant had been placed, a monster roared and battered within his chest. Flesh knit with smoky black limbs, intertwining to heal his body. With a painful withdrawal, the creatures let go of Desmond and let him fall to the ground. The tree-like skeletons fell and set their roots into the ground once more, as did all the surrounding skeleton-trees watching Desmond. It was like the entire dark forest had kneeled to him. No, not him. They weren't kneeling either. Their tableau expressions were ones of a child's maternal link with their mother. Otherwise known as whatever was inside Desmond. [i]If we looked at the face of God and only felt terror, would we ever pray?[/i] Cracking marrow emerged from the man's spine, extending upwards onto his face. His head felt squished, claustrophobic but eerily comfortable within whatever encased his head. Bones lanced through his entire body, growing extra muscles over them soon after and giving the muscle tension of a Titan. Pain burnt within his upper spinal cord, until it burst as two serpentine beings emerged from his back like the heads of hydras. Their jaws were like demonic snakes themselves, terrifying but somehow tempting with power. It was a beast akin to the true form of Eden's serpent.
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[i] Desmond gritted his teeth as the serpents burst from his spine. It hurt..but it was more empowering than anything. He'd had a monster placed into him, what that was a part of him..and it needed to be fed. In exchange, he got it's power. Would he pray to a God if all he saw was terror in it's face? Desmond didn't believe in a god. He was the ruler of his own fate, he was the master of his own soul. [/i]
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But then something went wrong. Desmond continued feeling the sensation of his new body, but was also losing the feeling of his own. His skin, muscles and bones were becoming a part of the rapidly developing flesh devouring him. He felt every thick black hair grow on his outer body, while his original began to liquefy and transform into something new. Another heart was grown in his chest. His digestion track became bladed and whipped, mouths lined what little muscle he had left and unholy signs were etched into his very bones. Massive hooves replaced his feet as the outer body grow in length whilst transforming Desmond from within. More fanged tendrils burst from his back as the main two heads screamed in accuracy to his agony. The ram's skull stop his head had multiple eye sockets. They began growing eyes, small portals to an endless abyss that bathed in darkness. A child's crying, an eerie lullaby, millions of screaming souls damned to blindness. An entire orchestra of demise within Desmond's mind played out. [i]Do not let your pride get the better of you. The Ram shall always charge within the walls of your very heart, mind and soul; forever seeking a means to free itself from you and become pure in flesh. In other words... It will always try to free itself from your skin and take on its true form. If you wish to keep your body and sanity, never let that occur.[/i] The last thing Desmond saw within his mind's eye was an emblem of a blue bird engulfed in a ball of fire. And then he awoke with Eve's dismembered arm halfway eaten in his mouth with Lucien in front of him, sitting on a tree trunk with his revolver pointed at Desmond. "Seems that you have accepted your inner demons," he says with a smile. Yet his smile hid a faint reluctance.
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[i] Desmond's eyes widened as he spat out the flesh and promptly turned to the side, throwing up whatever food he'd had in his stomach into the grass. He gasped for air, turning to Lucien.[/i] "I'm..like you now. I have another being inside of me.." [i] He uttered, staring at the revolver pointed at him. Something told him if something had went wrong, Lucien wouldn't have hesitated to shoot him..not one bit.[/i]
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"A piece of their divided God," Lucien said with a grim chuckle. "That is what the Abbatial believed in - that all Infected abominations were divided parts of their God. You'll need to feed, Desmond. I shall teach you to feed without tasting the flesh of your victims." Lucien stands up and walks behind Desmond, picking up the furry body of something he hadn't realized was there. It was a wolf, injured and crippled. Its front paws were burnt clean off whilst its eyes were boiled from the inside out. It whimpered and practically begged for death. "Concentrate on your body. Will it to shift into anything - an arm into claw or a mass of fanged tendrils, mouths to open within your palms to feast upon your meal, anything of the sort. Now feed, boy."
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[i] Desmond looked down at the wolf and felt..hungry. No..he wasn't hungry, the thing inside him was. The Black Ram..it had been called. They were one and the same now though. It's hunger, was his hunger. He outstretched an arm, willing his hand to do what Lucien had instructed. With a grotesque transformation, from his elbow down became a mass of thick tendrils, with tiny mouths on each that gnashed with hungry teeth. They leapt at the wolf, ripping it apart in a matter of seconds and and tearing it to pieces, absorbing into Desmond's body. The worst part..it felt [b]great.[/b] Like he'd been starving and he'd just feasted. Wounds and burns on his body began to heal and knit themselves back together, all to the shocked expression of Desmond.[/i] "Jesus..."
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"Yes, that's it. Do you feel the wolf within you now? They say you assimilate its genetic code, able to use it once more through your inoculation. But either you use your own flesh as material or find sustenance beforehand," Lucien continues. He gestures to a pile of various animal parts, with Eve's dismembered limbs included. They seemed to be an ample amount that was roughly equatable to the wolf's mass. "Mutated stem cell regeneration virus. In layman's terms, the virus allows for you to have control over your mutated stem cells. This allows for such things as creating living thralls of your bodies - proxies, as the Iconoclast calls them. Create the wolf in your image."
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"Like those sparrows." [i] Desmond muttered, holding out both arms. In a grotesque show of tendrils and blackish, purple flowing energy, a wolf took form on the ground. But not just any wolf, no. It was equal in size to the one he'd absorbed, except for the murderous looking spikes running down its flanks and legs. That, and the fact it had two heads. Both snarling and frothing at the mouth, with one too many rows of sharpened teeth. The oddest thing though, was the fact the entire thing didn't look like it was made of flesh. No, it was made, or rather covered, in a glossy black oily substance.[/i] "The Ka'kari.."
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"Interesting shape. They say a proxy reflects their creator - and judging how your relic adapted to it... I believe that such a statement is the most true when it comes to your ability, Desmond." Just as he says this, a sparrow lands atop Lucien's shoulder smelling of brimstone, with tendons still hanging from beneath its black feathers. "Considering the Infected I inoculated you with was quite powerful, it is most probable that your powers have extended into your proxy," he states as the sparrow flows a faint bioluminescent blue.
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"It isn't a power." [i] He says bluntly. Focusing for a moment, his arm shifts into a mass of mouth covered tendrils once again, absorbing the wolf into his body and fully healing the cuts and burns on him. There was still the issue of the Red Ka'karifer... That damn thing was supposed to have created Mount Veseril.. so why did Revenant have it? To Desmond's knowledge, up until today, the only remaining Ka'kari were the black, brown, and silver. Now there was the Red to worry about..[/i]
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"I use it as a broad term. You look to be worried, boy. What was it about that man with the fire? The one who made a comment about your... Ka'kari, is it? Yes." Lucien was beginning to put the strings together in his own mind. The comments the man made about having two of those relics, the way they were matched against each other as well as Desmond's strange blade. Speaking of which... Lucien tossed Iures towards him, remembering that he wouldn't need it if he didn't have to mercy-kill Desmond.
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"He has a Ka'kari, like mine." [i] Desmond caught Iures, but it vanished once within Desmond's grasp. Strange..[/i] "The Ka'kari are sentient magical artifacts that choose a host, giving that extraordinary abilities depending on the Ka'kari. My Ka'kari, the Black, was the original one. A man by the name of Ezra The Mad decided to replicate its abilities, but ended up with six, inferior Ka'kari." "The Red, Green, Blue, Silver, Brown, and White. Some of those are lost or destroyed, courtesy of my former master. The Red was supposed to be at the heart of a volcano.." "Until now. Ka'karifers, those who wield Ka'kari, are extremely rare and dangerous. And that man, Revenant, wielded his with ridiculous skill."
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"Well judging by the resources they have, I wouldn't be too surprised at the acquisition of such items. With that kind of gear, I would believe anything is possible with their tech." Lucien paused and holstered his gun before speaking once more. "Sentient magical artifacts? Ah, I see. I recall a voice other than yours speaking within my mind earlier. If the Ka'kari are mostly hidden within volatile locations, may I inquire as to why they haven't collected more?"
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[i] Desmond shook his head and shrugged.[/i] "I don't know. Only two of those, the Silver and the Brown are still up for grabs. Where they are, is anybodies guess. The Blue was destroyed and created the Tlixini Maelstrom back home. The Green was destroyed and covered an entire country in forest land." [i] Desmond says, smiling as if he was remembering something.[/i] "The White is lost in Ezra's Wood..which is a place no one dares venture. As for why they can't find the Silver and Brown, i don't know. When the Ka'kari are lost..they are lost. Most people spend their lives searching for them. My master spent 20 years searching for one, and never found it."
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"And your Ka'kari has the power to corrode - or something similar, correct? It seemed to eat all of the flames that man threw your way. Your ability with it is malleable as well, since I have seen you weave it around yourself like armour. I suggest you train more with the Black Ram, Desmond. Learn it, extend it through your body. I don't suggest trying to comprehend it, however. Such things have driven men mad. How do I deal with it? I don't doubt myself of the demon within me. And I use that term broadly - I do not believe in God, nor His angels or demons. I only believe in monsters and men, as well as the monsters hiding within men." Lucien looks at Desmond carefully before glancing at his own blade. "I can forge you a... Weapon of sorts, if you so desire. They call them Youtou; weapons with strains of Infected living within them. I created Talidikkit a long time ago, and it contains a separately-bred strain of my own Inoculation that has developed almost into its own being. But I warn you. The path you walk now is one of a monster."
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"I've walked the path of a monster ever since I took Durzo's offer, Lucien." [i] Desmond said, glancing at him sideways.[/i] "I'm already in deep, might as well take whatever plunges there are left. So yeah. Forge me a Youtou. God knows I've got enough demons already, one more won't hurt."
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"Be wary, boy. Your indifference may be the end of you. Would you like me to modify that blade of yours into a Youtou or have me create a new one? And if I were to forge a new one, anything specific design-wise?" While Lucien disapproved of Desmond's disposition, he knew it was necessary to give him a Youtou not only for convenience, but to grant him further control over the Black Ram; a medium of sorts to wield it. But with the Youtou came a danger. The danger of creating a new demon.
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"No. Retribution stays how it is." [i] He says, sounding almost defensive. And he was, it was the only thing Durzo had left him. [/i] "A curved blade. No longer than a katana, but specifics doesn't entirely matter." [i] It really didn't. He was trained with every weapon under the sun. [/i]
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Lucien bites his tongue within his mouth. No regard for fine weaponry - kids these days. "So be it then. I must extract part of your spinal fluid for the Youtou. Show be the back of your neck, please." He brings out a heavier-looking syringe and gives it a tiny knock before looking back at Desmond.
