What Comes Next (Open)

Existence was misery. It had been for some time now. The constant roar of souls within had grown to something akin to white noise but still somehow worse. It was like a dull headache one grew to ignore over time but that would eventually overtake the senses. The being that was the gillian had lost count how many times it had shifted consciousnesses. Lost count of how many new masks had been produced to replace that of the fallen consciousness. It was a living war but all wars had an end. A large hand black as the sky tore into the shifting sands at the edge of the pit. Another raised above the first groped for a hold strong enough to support the massive body before the beast began to heft itself off the ground.

Branches reached every now and again to tear at the beast's hide. What ever kind of mind the beast had was too determined to reach the top of the pit to be stopped by something as trivial as a non vital wound. It proceeded to climb despite the blood that dripped from its flesh. Even as other hollows began to crowd the larger branches to leap at it, the beast persisted. They would not stop it. They couldn't. It roared right along with them as it climbed, the cry equal parts pain and refusal to succumb. The flesh they tore from it wouldn't be missed. It didn't know how it wouldn't be, all it knew was that it wouldn't be.

The ground itself shook as the beast tore into the landscape for a hold. It had finally made it. With a few pulls the beast tore itself from the pit that lead to the quartz forest. The thing stood tall and let out a roar of triumph, the smaller hollows adorning its flesh like macabre trinkets. Its limbs were terribly slow as it began to pull off the hollows that clung to it. Once it had a decent few in its grasp, the beast dropped the handful into its mouth. It didn't care, or notice really, the crunch of the bones as it chewed through the flesh. Blood dripped through its teeth as it bent its huge frame to grab at the lower hanging beasts. Likewise, they'd eventually be food.

With the last of them rounded up, the gillian consumed its last mouthful. The hunger was the only thing it knew. It was endless and as vast as the night sky that it could now see. As it let the last of the hollows slide down its throat and into its gullet the beast stood admiring the moon. It was pretty. It had forgotten how pretty it was. No, not it. He.

He remembered. He remembered just in time to feel the most fleeting moment of being sated. As quick as it appeared the feeling of being full dissipated and in its place was a hunger more vast than he'd ever known. It was painful. So much more than he remembered it being. He needed it to end. Now. But there was nothing else to eat. The desert was a wasteland he remembered. Seeing no other option the hollow began to tear off its own limbs, stuffing them into its maw as quickly as he could. When even those weren't enough, he began to carve out his own flesh.

 Eventually all that was left of the beast's feast was the one who'd begun it all. As he looked down, the hollow realized with a shock that his sack was gone as was his charred skeleton that had lay beneath. In their place was a sleek body comprised mostly of sinew and lean muscles. As it raised its thin hands, it felt the reassuring firmness of his mask. That much was still there at least.

[WC: 639][TWC: 639]

Crowe yawned gently, stretching out on his back upon the soft sands of the desert. Much like five years ago, and further back then that, his anxieties and fears clawed inside him like a beast, scraping away at his resolve. He frowned to himself, feeling that deep hunger run through him once more - with that awful, awful feeling of consumption that he'd become accustomed to, came the need to feed more of ten then the bare minimum. Even as he thought this - the air grew that little bit more heavy, like a few drops of rain in a rainforest. Crowe had wandered the lands long enough to realise, at the very least, that a Gillan was making it's way to the surface - as the signature grew closer, Crowe got to his feet, looking down in it's direction from his perch on the high dune.

As the Gillan began to claw it's way out of the abyss that undoubtedly lead to the Cavern of Menos, a thought crossed over Crowe's mind, unheeded, sending a sickening feeling to his stomach. Whilst it was true, devouring a Gillan would sat his innate hunger for a long while, the idea of actively encouraging his cannibalistic urges sent chills down his mind. But, then again, those chills came whenever he needed to feed, no matter what kind of Hollow he was hunting down. Crowe hesitated on any action for a long couple of moments, watching the Gillan force itself from the dark chasm it had emerged from. That feeling of energy was growing as the creature fully emerged, feasting on the Hollows that clutched to it's body like ticks, making Crowe almost want to turn away from such brutality.

And then... like a flash, quicker then a second, it was... different. That feeling of power had grown so much in that fraction of a moment, and Crowe realised he'd finally witnessed the evolution of a Hollow. An Adjuchas now stood below the dune, basking in the light of the moon. Crowe felt saliva form in his mouth, unwanted; those thoughts began to bubble to the surface, and Crowe felt his interest grow in the new creature.

"Perhaps..." Crowe thought to himself, trying to justify his actions. "Perhaps I shall simply... approach it, for the moment." Yes, Crowe figured. It would be important inflammation to himself, to see how such a creature behaves in the moments of evolution. Even in the little he remembered of his life as a base Hollow, he'd never emerged from the towering from of a Gillan prior to his ascension. There was much he could learn... at a distance. Pulling his coat close around him, a few steps of Sonido brought him before the creature.

"Yes." Crowe thought to himself again. "I have grown since those days."

The creature still stood, running it's hand over it's face, as if it was trying to convince itself it's mask was still there. Crowe kept his distance, walking in a circular direction around the Adjuchas to judge it from every direction. His hand lay beneath his overcoat, one hand on the blade on his left, the other on the treasure of his comrade - it would do little to injure, but it could surprise them enough. Crowe knew he'd grown more powerful in the last five years... but he wasn't foolish enough to take on an Adjuchas, if he was to, without a plan.

"Now..." Crowe murmured to himself, trying to restrain the hunger rapidly growing inside him. "What... will you do next?"

---

WC: 588
TWC:1148

The moon was pretty. He'd forgotten in his madness how much he liked the light it gave off. It was the only thing in this place, his home, that offered light. Pretty as the sight was it couldn't hold the child's attention for long. His eyes quickly fell from it only to lose themselves in he abysmal black of the sky before finally falling back to the white sands beneath his feet. 

Feet were a new sight, he thought to himself. He didn't recall all that much of his life before but he remembered what he looked like well enough. It had been nearly impossible for him to see his feet thanks to the fleshy sack that had encompassed his body. As he thought about it he realized he had vague recollections of people he'd met. The image of their faces brought out feelings inside of him though he couldn't remember what caused him to feel the way he did. There was a girl appearing to be just slightly older than he'd appeared to be. She was kind. A friend. There had been a man, too. He was smart. But he was also mean. Though he couldn't remember exactly what the man had done, phantom pains plagued his body as he tried to remember before eventually giving up. 

As the hollow's eyes wandered they came to land on the castle in the distance and as they did, his stomach sank. He also remembered he hated that place. It made him uncomfortable. It exuded power that was intoxicating if you got too close. It made people do silly things and while that was fun to watch, it wasn't fun to be the one doing the silly things. But there had been someone there, hadn't there? She'd said something about hailing from the castle. The memories of her were muddled, probably coming from just before he'd become the amalgamation. All he could remember was her voice. He'd liked it because it was different.

Caught up in his thoughts the beast had entirely missed the sensation of someone else being present but movement in his peripheral quickly snapped his mind to attention. Whoever it was was on the move. Bending himself over backwards, Cayo was able to catch a glimpse of the person. From the distance, and being upside down, it was hard to tell the person's gender but they had red hair. More so than he remembered his own having been. To their credit they hand't attacked him yet which was good. He didn't want to fight so soon. He wasn't sure what exactly this body was capable of yet. Then again, what better way to find out than a fight?

"Hey~!" he called not bothering to right himself, his body still bent over backwards and hanging. He'd decided this could be fun without a fight. And if it wasn't, well, he could always change his mind. "C'mere!"

[WC: 486][TWC: 1,125]