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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming; PHASE II
    #10
    Noctosa was the first to feel the suckling at her shell when the earthly demigod severed their nebulous chains and set the sisters loose. Their galaxies are undefinable, unfathomable. The Great Old Ones liked to believe they wrought the knowledge to fully manipulate its infiniteness, that their corporeal souls could actually wield its final and omniscient power. They knew nothing and the petty magic that bound Nctolhu & Noctosa to be battered in the forever-storms of the Great Red Spot of Jupiter was voided when the faceless summoner broke the seal in the continuum of their spacely prison.

    Nctolhu felt it too and placid, leaking smiles slid across the seven elongated, leech mouths that swung independently from her face like nightmarish trunks. The thunder and acidic rain clouds were the first to be sucked through the wormhole that formed above their storm-brewed cells, spiraling up into the cavernous black sky hole like smoke through a straw. Nctolhu kept her lidless eyes locked on her twin as she felt herself begin to lift from the planet’s surface, with a sloppy ‘pop’ she was plucked through – clawed arms dangling like a crab being lifted to the pot for boiling. Gail, Gail, Gail, Gail - the sisters would remember the name. 

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    Kratos comes crashing into the swollen, dry ground when he’s spit from the wormhole with a left flank (external abdominal oblique muscle) that both oozed blood and a gelatinous, black substance that smelled like sulfur and hydrocarbons. Not too deep, but enough to make him uncomfortable and probably in need of a trip to the Falls. With a grunt he rolls onto his feet, shaking the loose soil away. The sky was a dead grey that cried ash onto his flesh, the combination of the burning in the distance and the putrid scent of flesh in the air had him tentatively curious as to what type of skewed hell he had been sent into this time.

    Neither Rhy nor Lagertha are within eyes-reach as he did a once over of his immediate surroundings, he sees a bay girl not far away and in the distance – something behind her approached walking up-right on two legs in front of him. When he swings his heavy white head to the left he sees another bay girl and a painted chestnut that takes to the sky. With neither Rhy nor Lagertha in sight he heads for the sea when he hears their summoner’s voice in his ears, the dull roar of bubbling water in the distance. But his attention is raked away when a cacophony of sounds clattered through his nerves, instinctually his muscles clenched in response to the twisted, deviant cries that forced him to turn away from the sea and back at what came for him. He didn’t need to see them to know that it, them, they came for him – came for all of them.

    The ground beneath his hooves began to break and crumble away, fissuring deep red wounds in the distended earth and temporarily drawing his attention away from whatever was coming – he had to deal with what was here now. He leaps away easily enough, although not gracefully, until the breaking of the earth stops for the time being. Kratos takes a final long-legged step from a crumbling now precipice, feeling a minor stab of pain in his injured flank as his body twisted. When he rights himself again he nearly collides with the two, viscous bodied monstrosities that were plopped down from the sky like twin rotten egg-yolks.
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    They couldn’t know how long those jealous sacs of nothingness had kept them prisoner in that forever tumbling, forever raining, and forever raging clusterfuck of a planet. Time was unimportant and insignificant to the Twins, all that mattered now was eventual retribution and for now – to soothe their barren, dusty stomachs (they each had three and they were neither herbivorous nor carnivorous, their bellies sought the atoms of all things tangible). The sisters were eaters of the flesh, land and sky and today they have stumbled upon Kratos.

    "Oh, look at him Tol-tol, isn’t he positively glorious? Let’s keep this one, please!" Noctosa beseeches, although the words wouldn’t be logical to Kratos, just a series of mushy plops and wet groans from leech-like mouths that swiveled and intertwined with each other like snakes. 


    "Stop calling me that and no he’s not, He’s fodder for my stomach, now stop fucking around." Nctolhu was in no mood for her twin’s peculiarities, her infuriating curiosity. She was hungry and the beast before them had begun to drip something bright and hot from his mouth as the sisters idled. "Hurry, grab him."

    Although the twins are lumbering, they are not clumsy – they each wielded six long arms that allowed them to crab-walk quickly, albeit quite fucking terrifyingly. Nctolhu lunges forward while her twin stays behind, reaching with a sickeningly long claw Although the twins are lumbering, they are not clumsy – they each wielded six long arms that allowed them to crab-walk quickly, albeit quite fucking terrifyingly. Nctolhu lunges forward while her twin stays behind, reaching with her heaviest claw (much like lobsters or crabs the Twins had two main pincher claws and the rest were for motion) to clench around the back of the fleshy beasts neck.

    "I want to keep that one, I said!" The stationary twin warbled, her many mouths squealing and vibrating malevolently like angry eels. Nctolhu never indulged her, always belittling her idiosyncrasies like she was so much better than her. Their father Cthulhu had left them BOTH on that fucking boring planet, left them there to rot. She was no better than her and she wanted this beast, she would have him! She could see it already, she would cut off the arms of some other wretched creature and sew them onto his sides, which would make him better, yes – she could see it already. A couple of more arms and maybe she’d even eat the mouth he had now and give him one like her uncle Hnarqu. Yes, she could see it already, she had plans and her sister was fucking it up. Noctosa, in a fit of childish temper, reaches with her own claw to wrench her sister’s arm away from her would be-pet.
     




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    Kratos didn’t have time to ponder on the impossibility of these creature’s existence – they were a living meld of all things that frightened foals and left the old to hope that when their end came, they wouldn’t be sent for the bellies of these wretches. While his muscles instinctually screamed for flight, he acknowledged that such a luxury was not an option here – he was too close to reel away from its grasp.
    They stand directly before him, so near that their the fishy, infected scent of their flesh nearly chokes him and he isn’t imagining the smell of burnt flesh that was rife in his nostrils – he just doesn’t recognize it’s his own nostrils that are burning. The Twins breath (as well as the rest of their bodily gases) were made up of sulfur dichloride and ethylene – essentially mustard gas. 


    As the first one moves to clench the back of his neck, much like a wolf to her cub, he doesn’t pull away. The flesh in his nostrils were flaking away and filling with blood, which was never good considering horses can’t breathe out of their mouths. The ground around him is splintered and he risked breaking a leg if he made the mistake of stepping into one of the many clefts that surrounded him, not to mention the exertion wouldn’t help his rising respiratory distress. He could have reared up but offering his soft underbelly to the shear-like claws seemed the most unwise of the options before him. Coupled with the fact that his hooves probably wouldn’t do much amid a myriad of leech mouths. His ears are flailing wildly as the second nightmare begin to wail, her mouths gnashing angrily towards her sister.
     
    When the claw clamps around the back of his neck, the vice-grip tightened and pinched the trapezius muscle there. It’s sharp edges slicing into the sides of his neck – albeit not deep enough to slice through the splenius’ muscles on either side, but certainly enough to cause him immediate discomfort and trouble moving his neck. Her claw lingers only long enough for the other sister to clamp her own around it and begin to wrench away, digging the cuts deeper into his neck before he lets the lightning explode from his skin. It’s a powerful strike, adrenaline and cold instinct pumping the power unchecked through his body and into the Twins. The claw immediately drops from his neck amid a cacophony of garbled, wet shrieks as the two sister’s reel back. In Noctosa’s tantrum she had latched herself to her sister so when Kratos sent his lightning through one, both felt his fury. He could see his lightning ricocheting through their gelatinous blobs of torsos before coming up and out through their cracked shells.





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    When Nctholu turns to her sister, who now lies in a sloppy puddle of what could best be described as chum, she lets out a torrent of howls that reverberate through his eardrums, threatening to puncture them as he angles past the grief-stricken twin who is slobbering and mewling in her own pile of pain. Kratos doesn’t hesitate any longer, perhaps the second sister would also succumb to her injuries, perhaps not. Perhaps she would rally to her father for the sake of a greater vengeance, or perhaps she would plead to the Outer Gods to gather Kratos’ soul for her to eat – but it would be hers to be had. She’d rip the dimensions asunder to feel his final breath in her mouth. 

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    Kratos can still hear the monster’s ominous sloshing screams as he makes it to the edge of the boiling sea, a wormhole collapsing and spinning in on itself like whirlpool just a few feet off the shore. Whatever was in the wormhole beat the fuck out of what was here, boiling water included. He’s tired and although the blood from his nose has mostly cleared, his chest heaves with the exertion to breathe. His neck is stiff and bleeding, as well as his flank and yet he still chooses to fling himself into the churning waters after encasing himself in a husk of lightning that he hoped would at least somewhat save his skin from the scalding waters. Just as he’s being sucked into the vortex he hears the creature’s nightmarish, garbled voice shrieking after him and he swears it sounds like, Gail, Gail, Gail….

     




    ooc - I saw some websites refer to her as "Nctosa"  and others as "Noctosa" so I just picked one 


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming; PHASE II - by Kratos - 05-14-2015, 11:50 AM



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