[Nemesis/Flashback]Devourer of Hope (Naama)

[Ssafirarhysati]

Timestamp: 57th of Fall, 508 AV Location: Jungle Wilds, North of the Kandukta Basin Reader Advisory: Contains excessive violence The serpent sat languidly on the upper branches of a tall tree, her thick cream-colored coils wrapped around the similarly hued trunk, effectively camouflaging her as she took in as much sunlight as she could. So well did she blend in with her surroundings that a trio of bloodbills sat a mere arm's length from her, oblivious of her presence. She knew that if she wanted to, she could get at least one of them into her mouth, crushed and lifeless, before the others could take flight. But instead she remained unmoving, content to watch the birds with lazy, half-lidded eyes. Her forked tongue would occasionally dart out of the mouth, smelling the air for anything out of the ordinary. This was Rhysati in her snake form, powerful and deadly. She had been up in that position for the greater part of four days now, having devoured a small wild piglet before slithering up the tree to digest it. She had been thicker around the trunk when she first settled there, the form of her meal easily visible on her forty-foot long length as it made its way down her gullet. Several days of inactivity had returned her to her more streamlined form, and with the piglet but a distant memory now, she was starting to feel the effects of hunger once again. But not enough to move just yet. And so she remained motionless merely watching the three birds with mild interest. Sound of conversation drifted up from the jungle floor however, and Rhysati perked up. While she could not understand most of the words, she recognized the language and knew the truth about the speakers: there were Myrians down below. Or there was one at least, a female by the tone of it, though Rhysati thought she heard faint sounds of meaningless gibberish, like those uttered by small children who have not learned to speak yet. The realization of this fact made her smile, if snakes could smile, and silently, she slithered down the tree. The three bloodbills remained undisturbed in her wake.

[Naama]

Their steps were quiet, at least as quiet as one could possibly hope to attain with a small child nestled in a sling across a man’s chest. He was but an inch shorter than the woman who trailed ahead, moving with agile legs between tall ferns and hanging vines, her hand raised and fingers splayed before her. The air thrummed with life, and her senses, although useful when all was silent, vibrated and dulled in the heap of confusion. Onyx eyes scrutinized the ground after noticing what appeared to be a footprint of a wild boar; a fresh indentation in the mud.

“Over here, Neum.” Naama murmured, gesturing for him to approach. He obliged, and squatted beside his mate, with the baby girl clinging with olive fingers onto her father’s toothed necklaces. “It seems there is fresh meat hiding somewhere around here. Perhaps not five minutes ago.”

“You think Kohi will stay quiet enough for us to catch a kill?” Neum inquired with a grin. Naama returned the favor, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on the girl’s head. “She’s a natural-born hunter, she’ll know when the time is right to keep her cute mouth shut!”

It had only been minutes as the family worked their way around the flora so abundant after the summer rains, before Naama finally came to notice that her chaktawe gift was soon becoming more prominent by the second. She paused with her hooked swords in hand and raised her arm up to halt Neum, who glanced around with his spear readied as if expecting a reaction from his mate. The halfbreed only stepped ahead beyond the tall tree housing several bloodbills and extended her hand in an effort to track potential movement of prey.

“The wilds are growing unnaturally quiet, Neum….” She said, “Keep your wits about you.” She turned to glance behind her.

[Ssafirarhysati]

Rhysati reached the jungle floor, the patterned scales on her back making her look like part of the background. Unmoving, even the best hunters would have a hard time distinguishing her from the rest of the detritus at first glance; her light colored scales against the earthen hues made her seem like a patch of ground hit by rays of sunlight. It made for effective camouflage. The Myrians were easy enough to detect despite their attempt - pitiful attempt, in the Dhani's opinion - at stealth. Their clumsy feet crunched up dead leaves and broken twigs, giving away their position to the acute senses of Rhysati. Better they just lose their legs and slither underfoot beneath the thick foliage like her if they truly desired to stay hidden. And do away with the noisy brat they brought with them. Realizing that the rest of the jungle had detected her presence, the collective racket of the creatures in the immediate area growing silent and thus alerting her quarry, Rhysati snaked her way parallel the direction the small group was taking. She found it amusing that when inexperienced hunters such as they often looked back to where they came from as if fearing an ambush from behind. Paranoid little twerps, she thought. Attacks usually came from the side, in the prey's blind spot. She caught sight of them now, a male and a female, the former with the babe hanging on a harness on his front, thought they still could not see her in her snake form. Time to change that! But first... Rhysati's head reared back, her jaws opening wide as she regurgitated a leather-wrapped package: her twin bracers. There were already loaded with poisoned needles, one with blue whinnis, a powerful poison from the extract of a root of one of the local plants, the whinnis, which induced weakness on the victim and eventually unconsciousness. The other was covered in a dark brown powder, ashes of a certain seaweed that amplified pain, Rhysati's favorite concoction. Using it on others always brought a smile to her face. As she watched the Myrian couple resume their trek, the Dhani's body suddenly began to transform, her bones shifting and rearranging themselves around the length of her body to form limbs and her scales being replaced by milky-white skin. Bleached blonde hair sprouted from her head and her skull - her whole body, in fact - reshaped itself to resemble the form of that of a humanoid, a pale ghost against a verdant green background. The transformation took half a chime, long enough for the Myrians to move several paces ahead of her. Rhysati gave them a couple of more seconds to secure the bracers on her wrists. This will be fun! she exclaimed to herself, her lips twisting into a wicked grin. Silently, she slipped her naked frame between the fronds and worked her way to the rear of the pair, using tree, plant or large leaf as visual blocks to hide her white form should one of them glance behind again. Her bare feet made no sound as she slid them over the soft earth. At ten paces behind them, arms raised and bracers aimed at each Myrian, Rhysati called out, using the one Myrian word she knew. "Meat." Rhysati fired off the poisoned needles the same time the Myrians turned. Caught by surprise, both had no time to dodge the attack. The female was hit on the neck - negligible damage were it not for the blue whinnis extract coating it. The male was less fortunate. Whether by luck or skill, the needle powdered with the Phantom's Shell sped unerringly to his left eye, puncturing it. Rhysati was moving even before he could begin to scream. Ignoring the man, knowing him to be the weaker of the two, the Dhani threw her fist at the woman's face. Her strength, coupled with the speed of the attack and the fast-acting poison now coursing in the Myrian's veins gave her an extreme edge over her victim. Over both her victims.

[Naama]

The thrums of movement that impacted her fingers was too late. Naama was too late. Her head had whipped around at the sound of the wretched creature only to see her blow what was an unmistakable blowdart, sending one into the eye of her mate and one straight into her neck. It was a prick, and her hand reached up instinctively to pull it out, but the punch soon collided to her cheek, and for a fraction of a moment her sight was blinded. She fell to the floor, with only the hollering screams of her mate crumpled on the ground with her daughter possibly crushed beneath him....

"NO!" Naama shrieked, as she whipped her head around to find him, but the only person that soaked up her vision was the pale, female woman. She spat blood, charging the distance between them to send a vicious elbow punch to the woman's face and seconds later, attempted to shove her to the floor. It was then she made for Neum and the child, clouded by her fear of her baby, the utter mistake of a mother's decisions in the heat of danger. Naama tried to keep him still, but the pain was excruciating, and all he could manage was to sit up and secure himself against a tree. It was Naama who pulled the dart from his eye, as quick and painless as she could manage, but only a cry of agony escaped him. "Neum, Neum stay with me!"

The screams of her mate were heartwrenching. Coupled with her baby's was nearly unbearable. But it was becoming harder to focus. Naama blinked furiously, stumbled on increasingly weak legs and she knew that soon her body would give out. It was instinct that took over, even with the poison making her movements sluggish, she tried to stand. Tried to send some semblance of an attack toward the creature's gut, but only found herself colliding into the moss-coated trunk of a tree. "I have failed.." She gasped, "Myri, protect them... protect them..."

Her vision darkened. The cries of woe vanished in a wash of black and soon Naama had collapsed onto the floor, with only the darkness for company.

[Ssafirarhysati]

Rhysati saw the elbow strike coming a mile away and had a block in place even before the Myrian woman connected. The blow still staggered her however and the follow up throw sent her sprawling on the wet earth. The Myrian did not press her advantage however, a foolish mistake, one the Dhani intended to fully capitalize on. As soon as she hit the ground, Rhysati's body took on another transformation, her frame growing bulkier, her creamy white skin replaced by alabaster scales, and her legs joining together to form a thick and powerful tail. It took a mere half chime for her transformation to complete - plenty of time to get back at the female who dared strike at her. The woman was trying to make her man as comfortable as possible, easing him against a tree as she carefully pulled out the needle from his eye. How he had howled right after! It excited Rhysati to hear the sound, but she knew it would only bring more of their kind at their spot. She needed to act quickly. Slithering closer, she dealt another strike at the woman's head. Her fist connected solidly against the Myrian's temple and the woman toppled like a rag doll. The male, the one called Neum, squinting through his one good eye, tried to pull out a weapon against Rhysati, but she was much quicker, slamming her fist again and again against his mouth until she saw his eye roll up into his skull. His chin hit his chest as his head fell limply, several bloody teeth falling from his mouth upon impact. It was then that the small bundle on his chest issued a loud cry. Rhysati winced at the sound, sure that a Myrian patrol would rain arrows upon her head. But she knew none were near enough to come to the couple's aid, however. Angrily, she pulled at the straps the bound the babe to her sire's chest, exposing the child. "Stupid brat!" she hissed at it. "SHUT. UP!" Rhysati clamped her hand against the Myrian babe's nose and mouth, not letting go despite its feeble struggling and ceaseless crying. The Dhani took pleasure in its useless attempt to escape her grasp, a twisted smile blossoming on her reptilian lips. It only took moments for the child to pass out, its small body deprived of air. Rhysati held her hand in place a moment longer to ensure that it would not wake up any time soon. "Petching brat," Rhysati muttered. She picked up the limp forms of the two Myrians, the babe still bound to the male's chest, and slung each over her Dhani form's broad shoulders. She bore their weight quite easily. She turned, scanning her surroundings to make sure that no one had witnessed what had just transpired, before plunging into the underbrush with her latest playthings. OOCDon't post yet after this. I'll set up the next scene.

[Ssafirarhysati]

Rhysati carried the unconscious Myrians to a secluded area, one beneath the jutting outcrop of a strange rock formation, perhaps formed by the long ago cataclysm that was the Valterrian. She had made good progress in her Dhani form, for no creature strayed into her path. None dared, not against such a formidable predator. The place was familiar to her - she had often thrown live prey over the edge of the highest point of the outcrop, enjoying the sight of their mangled bodies and the sound of their bones breaking as they hit the ground - and she reached it in no time. Tall, stout trees littered the area, their thick trunks serving as excellent cover from anyone who may be spying in them, as well as visual breaks and obstacles from pursuers should Rhysati need to make a quick getaway. They also provided another use for the Dhani: the thick and durable vines that hung from their branches easily doubled as a rope. She used them now to bind the two adult Myrians on separate trees, making sure than even she, with her greater strength, could not break the bonds. Propping them up facing each other, she bound each on the wrists and ankles, waist and thighs, making sure that the vines bit deeply on their skin so that even the smallest of movement would chaff their skin. More vigorous attempts would have the coarse material cutting into their flesh. The unconscious baby Rhysati left at the foot of the male. She would use it later as a prop for the show she had prepared for these two. She actually couldn't wait for that moment. As she shifted back to her human form, a wicked smile twisted her pale lips. --/-- "Wakey, wakey, little Myrian." The blows that followed the words were what Rhysati called love taps – not much strength behind them but lovingly painful enough to rouse the man from his unconsciousness. She had tied him spreadeagled against the thick tree truck, his arms and legs pulled so tautly that the only thing he could move was his head, and not without a great deal of pain if he did. With the Phantom’s Shell still coursing through his veins, the Dhani knew that every little movement was torture in and of itself. That knowledge widened the smile on her lips. There was a battered groan from the man as he stirred. Rhysati knew from the quality of the sound that it wasn’t like those made by someone just coming into wakefulness, but from one who was being assaulted by the rush of pains and aches he felt from all over his body. While the Myrian’s head still hung limply, hiding his face from her, Rhysati could easily picture in her mind the rictus of anguish that distorted his features. From his position, she imagined that all he could see was the stark nakedness of her human form. She cuffed him on the head to gain his attention. “Hey! Meat! My eyes are up here. Stop staring at my tits.” Rhystati cuffed him again. A louder groan soon followed. “Keep your eyes on me when I’m talking to you!” The Dhani pulled the man’s hair back forcefully, craning his neck so that he was face to face with her. The sight of his eyes, one pain-filled the other a bloody mess, greeted her. Rhysati laughed, remembering that it had been her poison needle that had caused the gruesome wound. “I forgot I already took out that one…” An idea struck her. “It looks like you won’t need that any more,” she said. It was all the warning she gave him. The Myrian’s one good eye widened as he realized what she had planned and he tried to pull his head away from her. But Rhysati held him good and the tightness of his bonds left him with little to no wiggle space. With one hand, the Dhani held him under the chin, securing her fingers along his jaw to prevent him from turning his head away. With deliberate slowness, she opened the swollen lids of the damaged eye and dug her long, sharp nails around it, watching closely as the man’s silent wincing quickly became a ceaseless stream of begging as he pleaded for her to stop. She chuckled, finding it amusing how the Phantom’s Shell could turn a hardened warrior into a spineless crybaby. Ignoring the man’s blubbering but keeping him still with her firm grip, Rhysati pushed her fingers into his eye socket, taking her time, until they clawed around the damaged orb. By then, the man’s cries were reduced to unintelligible whimpers. A twist and a yank had him screaming once again as she tore out the eyeball. She covered his mouth with her own before he could cry out too loudly, turning his pain into her pleasure as she kissed him deeply. The sounds, despite her best attempts to mute it, must have woken up the Myrian’s mate, for Rhysati heard muffled noises from behind her. She had gagged the female to keep her silent and not draw attention to their location when she woke up. The ball of cloth that gagged her, secured by a swath of vines that was tied around her mouth, did not prevent the female from cursing at the Dhani, however. “Ah, you’re awake,” Rhysati said to her as she turned. “Excellent.” She released her hold on the poor Myrian, letting the blood from the now empty eye socket to pour onto the ground, as she moved towards the female.

[Naama]

There was only darkness. Utterly nothing but the void that filled her thoughts and the last vision that lay muddled in her mind’s eye. Neum screaming. Her baby shrieking. In fear? In pain? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. If death was to be their fate when she awoke then let Myri guide them into her arms. Embrace them, Goddess-Queen. They deserve to start anew. She didn’t know how long she’d been out. The halfbreed was barely roused by the sounds of unintelligible screaming. Her dark onyx eyes blinked slowly, the blurry vision gradually decreasing with each passing moment, until she was staring at her own bound body. Naama jerked and tried to yelp in pain, but found something slick and rough in her mouth, and the constricting vines that kept her immobile and silent. It was saliva that coated the edges of her lips, with a mixture of blood that trailed down her chin. Her heart raced. There was another agonizing scream coming from directly in front of Naama, and she glanced up by instinct. What she saw made her stomach twist. Then came the muffled shrieks. This time from the bound Myrian halfbreed. What was she doing? What was she doing to him! NEUM! She wanted to scream, BITCH! DEMON! But her words only met the gag. There were tears trailing from her eyes, paving a path down the dirt that soiled her cheeks. What pain her mate felt was ingrained in her mind. She shook in her bonds, tugging and screaming from the fresh wounds sliced into her skin by the vines. Fury. Anger. Hate. She seethed behind the gags, only noticing her baby girl laying at the foot of her mate. But the tears remained fresh. She wished she would be dead, so as not to suffer as Neum suffered. It was only then the Dhani noticed her smothered protests. When the creature approached her, the struggle renewed. Naama wanted to kill her. To cut out her tongue and slice her into individual pieces to toss to the crocodiles. She wanted to rip the skin from her flesh and make her eat it. But there was no denying her vulnerability. Naama was in the hands of undeniable evil. She was at her mercy.

[Ssafirarhysati]

"I bet you want to attack me right now, don't you?" Rhysati taunted, a smug expression of superiority stamped on her face as she stood an arm's length away from the bound mixed blood. She slapped Naama, hard, then tore away the vines that bound the woman's mouth. The half-Myrian's head was yanked violently forward in the process. It came back up immediately, Naama spitting curses at Rhysati. The Dhani watched her impassively for a few moments before punching her mouth while in mid-tirade. "Why don't you shut up?!" she hissed at Naama. To emphasize her point, Rhysati grabbed the Myrian by the jaw and stuffed the woman’s mouth with her own mate's eyeball. She could feel her recoil from her touch in an attempt to spit out the grisly object but Rhysati slugged her once more, before gagging her again with the vines. The eyeball remained in Naama’s mouth. “Maybe if you behave, I’ll put something in there you’ll actually like!” She walked away, laughing as she did, and returned to the male’s side. Neum appeared to be unconscious, most likely having passed out from the intense pain of his wound. Blood still seeped out of the empty socket, dripping off his chin to stain the ground red. Rhysati began to slap him on the side of the head again, her way of rousing the man. Faint groans could be heard coming from him. “Honestly, why are you even with this man? He’s so weak and pathetic,” she called to Naama, her tone conversational as if they were two friends discussing about their lovers. All the while, she continued hitting the man. “I thought you Myrians were out to make the best warriors of yourselves. Copulating with this fool here was definitely a bad choice for you. That would explain the runt of a child that sprung from your loins!” Again, Rhysati laughed, a rude and crass sound in the face of the suffering she had inflicted on the small family of natives. “Now I’m curious what you even see in him.” It was a cruelly delivered line, one that would send shivers down Naama’s spine as Rhysati glanced her way, that malicious grin splayed on her lips, as if she was making sure that the half-breed was watching her every move. With obvious exaggeration, she picked up the knife she had retrieved from Neum and pretended to study the blade. “Oh, I suppose I should look...” It was almost with glee when she stabbed the knife in the Myrian’s gut, sawing his belly wide open such that his intestines and other internal organs spilled out and fell to the jungle floor. A whoosh of air escaped the man’s lips, like a death sigh, though Naama, and especially Rhysati, knew the wound did not kill outright but rather left one lingering to suffer a slow and very painful death. “Nothing special,” the Dhani said as she inspected her handiwork. Turning to Naama, she opened her arms wide and shrugged theatrically, for it was all a show for her, the whole act of causing suffering to others. She enjoyed it, whether it was twisting the proverbial knife to cause heartache to others or, like what she had just done, ripping open real flesh and spilling blood and guts. The stench of the fresh entrails must have woken up the baby that lay nearby. As it began to bawl out in protest to the offending odor, Rhysati’s expression darkened, its cries clearly irritating her. “You have an annoying family, do you know that?” she told Naama.

[Naama]

oocSorry it's so short! Only so much I can write. XD Rhysati’s strikes were brutal. Naama spat blood, her vision blotched with flashing dots. What the petch was there to do when you were helpless? It was the most pathetic situation she’s been in in her life, and now it was spiraling to a tragedy. Then the snake struck her mouth, splitting her lip, and shoved something slick into her mouth. When she realized what it was, Naama gagged. The vine was shoved back into her mouth and there was nothing to do but let the eyeball sit on her tongue, and watching with growing nausea as the wretched dhani sliced Neum’s belly open like a boar. The halfbreed raged. Screaming against her binds and forcing the bile back down her throat. The eyeball was swallowed whole. Naama coughed and spluttered against the vine, choking up blood and bile. When her daughter awoke, it was all the Myrian could do but to keep silent, her eyes tearing up from the throbbing pain.

[Ssafirarhysati]

The pale woman's frown deepened with each cry of the small child, the noise putting her on edge and ruining the fun she was having with the lone remaining Myrian. She would have gone to torture the woman, for clearly she would have more fun and challenge with that one than the pitiful male, but the ungodly wailing of the child was forcing her hand. Ignoring the sorry attempts of the child's mother as she struggled against her bonds, Rhysati stalked off towards the babe, grabbing it beneath the jaw and lifting it up one handed. "SHUT! UP!" she screamed in its face. If anything, her provocation only made it cry all the louder. Rhysati turned hatefully at the Myrian woman, her eyes clearly accusing her as if the child's crying was all the woman's fault, that her not fully enjoying her fun was all her fault. The bitch! her little spawn would alert the rest of the jungle of their location! Rhysati knew she needed to shut the thing up or other Myrians would converge on their position. Pulling her fist back, she punched the child square in the mouth. There was a loud crack, and the child was silenced forever. As she felt the body go limp in her hands, Rhysati looked up at the Myrian. She could clearly see in the woman's eyes the anguish her action had caused. False regret worked into her expression. "Oops," she said, her face almost believable apologetic. "I think I broke it." And then she laughed, a cold, remorseless sound that would forever ring in the Myrian's mind whenever she thought of her lost child. There was nary a care for others' pain in it, only revelment in their misery. It was a heartless sound, pure and simple. Holding the child by one leg now, Rhysati held it up to let the Myrian see her work. Blood seeped out of its small mouth, its head bent in a strange angle now because of its broken neck. "Shame to let it go to waste, don't you agree?" she taunted as her features began to take on a reptilian quality, showing her true appearance at last. It took half a chime as her body shifted - hair pulled back into their roots, skin turned into scales, legs joined and molded into a powerful tail,her slender frame bulking up to show rippling musculature, and her pretty if cruel human face turned wholly into that of a giant snake's head. It was Rhysati's Dhani form revealed in all its glory. She hissed at the Myrian, her forked tongue licking the woman's face, before she opened her jaws into a gaping maw and devoured the Myrian's child. Bones could be heard cracking as her throat muscles constricted to force the body down into her gullet. She did everything before the woman so that she would not miss a second of the action. In no time a large bulge could be made out on her belly, the mangled form of the child easily distinguished on it. "So this is how it feels like to be fat with child!" Rhysati noted cruelly, patting the bump on her stomach. "Your mammalian bodies have strange tendencies." Drawing ever closer, she asked, "So, my dear, it's your turn. How shall we play?" Rhysati caressed the Myrian with a clawed hand before slapping the woman with a dizzying blow to the head. She raised her hand once more but before it could land, the loud rapport of a tiger's roar erupted in the distance, followed immediately by another, this one much closer to their position. More Myrians! They were discovered! So that noisy child did not die in vain then, the little piece of crud. The Dhani knew she did not even have time to kill the bound woman in front to her before the others arrived to her rescue. And no doubt they would have stinging arrows with them. Myrians were very proficient in groups after all. Hatefully, Rhysati turned away, slithering back into the thick foliage to loose herself in the jungle. But her recent meal left her sluggish and she could not shift into her stealthier snake form with it fresh in her belly. Returning her gaze to the Myrian, her reptilian lips curved back into a grotesque approximation of a smile before she heaved and regurgitated the half-digested child, dumping it at its mother's feet. Its features had started to corrode from her stomach acids in the brief time it had spent in her belly. "Feh. I wasn't hungry anyway. And it tasted like shyke. Disgusting." And with that, Rhysati shifted back into a snake and crept away in silence. The Myrian patrol never found a trace of her when they arrived in the scene. -fin-