- Jun 9, 2022
- 551
- 276
- 63
There was a plague spreading. Pulsing through the roots and blooming sickly blooms. The air is thick with poison, smog-soaked air, and no one can catch a whiff, aside from him. This was how life has always been, and how it will continue to be. The burden that lies heavy on his shoulders. The price to pay for being the messenger; but how is he to bring a stop to it all when the rest of them are so naive? When the rest of them are so quick to scuttle between their legs and share tongues with their very plague-bringers. When they're lead to believe that they as deputy hold a modicum of power...
And here, there, right there, a prime subject. The brunt of it all seems to have nestled between each whisker on that rotten face. Between every crevice, every pore, every wrinkle that should not be there. It oozed between the cracks and settled in deep, warping it into something monstrous, a face that made him flinch with the slightest look (only in fear that he too could catch such an aliment. He knows it to be impossible, but for a pale moment fear grips him at the thought of become a thing so gruesome, in body, and not just mind).
Shadow slipping across the clearing, he moves; careful, careful, less he scares the plague buzzing beneath his skin into jumping hosts. Even in front of the subject, he remains a safe distance. His body shutters with effort, holding his weight up on his toes. There's a subtle, subtle (not so much-) lean away from the tom. "It has... C-come to my attention," he drawls, eyes dark at the muttled planes of his face. It's not so sad from here, from up front where the the tapered plane of his nose isn't so noticable. Bug eyed, elderly, thick-headed from here? Oh, sure, but not necessarily... ill. He knew better though, than to be fooled. "You spend quite some time with the witc- h-hmm-deputy," gritted between gnashing teeth. "don't you?"
He does not wait for an answer. Bending forward on the tips of his toes, his eyes flash wide and wild like the midday sun. "I- I've got it now, your face has curdled with her very presence. I- I recommend you abstain." Who knows if the damage could ever be reversed, though...
[ Please wait for @CRIMSONBITE ; he's a little silly . ]
And here, there, right there, a prime subject. The brunt of it all seems to have nestled between each whisker on that rotten face. Between every crevice, every pore, every wrinkle that should not be there. It oozed between the cracks and settled in deep, warping it into something monstrous, a face that made him flinch with the slightest look (only in fear that he too could catch such an aliment. He knows it to be impossible, but for a pale moment fear grips him at the thought of become a thing so gruesome, in body, and not just mind).
Shadow slipping across the clearing, he moves; careful, careful, less he scares the plague buzzing beneath his skin into jumping hosts. Even in front of the subject, he remains a safe distance. His body shutters with effort, holding his weight up on his toes. There's a subtle, subtle (not so much-) lean away from the tom. "It has... C-come to my attention," he drawls, eyes dark at the muttled planes of his face. It's not so sad from here, from up front where the the tapered plane of his nose isn't so noticable. Bug eyed, elderly, thick-headed from here? Oh, sure, but not necessarily... ill. He knew better though, than to be fooled. "You spend quite some time with the witc- h-hmm-deputy," gritted between gnashing teeth. "don't you?"
He does not wait for an answer. Bending forward on the tips of his toes, his eyes flash wide and wild like the midday sun. "I- I've got it now, your face has curdled with her very presence. I- I recommend you abstain." Who knows if the damage could ever be reversed, though...
[ Please wait for @CRIMSONBITE ; he's a little silly . ]
