justwantsafety: (peeking)
[personal profile] justwantsafety
Somarium application sample:

((because rabbits are carnivorous and sheep are harmless and Harley really is this full of fail.))

Harley regarded the small brown creature.

It didn't look threatening. It looked... soft? And it had such large eyes, and funny things on its head that flopped down. Were those its ears? He watched the way its nose twitched as it sniffed around between the rocks, looking for something.

He was pretty sure that it wouldn't be able to eat him. Couldn't be a threat. It was actually quite... what was the word? He sort of wanted to try petting it, to see if it felt how it looked. He found himself liking it more and more as he watched it. He found himself crouching down. He found himself extending a hand to the little thing, his mouth daring to form a sadly rare, honest smile.

He also found himself with the creature's teeth in his finger shortly thereafter.

He yelped, jerking his hand back and springing to his feet. "Don't eat me!"

With a few choice words more as it stepped after him, he sprinted away, only pausing when the building he had been near was nowhere in sight, and he was once again completely lost. Not as though he hadn't been lost before, of course, but he was lost once again, and if he couldn't find the small, furry monster that had wanted him for dinner, maybe the small, furry monster couldn't find him, either.

Or so the logic went.

Unfortunately for him, he was so intent on watching to make certain it wasn't following him, that he managed to completely neglect to watch what he was approaching, and bumped right into something else. Something vaguely resembling the first creature he'd encountered here that had tried to eat him, brown and soft and fluffy, with dark eyes, and four legs, and holy crap that was the biggest... whatever it was... he had ever seen. And it made a sound at him, a bleating one, as it lifted its head, its nose and mouth coming closer, sniffing at him...

He barely managed to choke out a scream as he turned and ran once again.






Wrote it to use as an intro post for somewhere...

It was hard against his head and collarbone, and he felt the impact, felt it crack and break, the sound loud inside his head as he screwed his eyes shut against it.

Cold. The chill remained even after it slid down, and he heard it shatter into a hundred little pieces. Maybe that would happen to him somehow? His legs were giving out already; he was leaning too far back, too far to the side, and he tried to correct it. He stumbled on one of the slick pieces, over correcting, and didn't open his eyes again yet as he pitched forward, trying to tense against the impact he knew would come. He could already hear the guttural roar from the red demon as he closed in for the kill, and then he landed.

He was still, the pain in his ribs and chin blocking out everything for a moment. It was only after he'd attempted, with very limited success, to draw a breath again, that it registered that he wasn't actually dead yet. The floor was hard beneath him, but without the regular edges of the stonework in his Tribe's conference room interrupting it. There were no shards of ice beneath him, adding to his discomfort, just the throb of his ribs -- oh god, how many of them had that red demon broken? He was only now mildly surprised that that particular attacker hadn't grabbed one of the low tables in the room and beaten him with that; he was certainly strong enough to heft one of them easily -- and the chill that would not leave, something not really from the ice he'd been slammed with physically, but something else one of the monsters had done -- oh god, what had they done? -- that made him cry out, nearly doubling over, feeling hearth turn to frost inside him. He shuddered, trying another breath, grimacing as it took more effort than he ever wanted to admit, for such a simple act.

What the hell was I thinking?

There had been three of them... they looked human enough, as they'd walked into his office. They'd still looked like themselves, as he tried again to plead his ignorance; he was as lost as they were, surely. He'd seen the light flying around after the explosion, seen the chaos, not that he knew what was happening, except that there were monsters everywhere, grotesque forms, claws and teeth, oh god the teeth, and he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the people standing across the battlefield from him had changed, and they were the demons, and they were coming closer, rending limb from limb, flesh from bone, whatever they got their hands -- claws, blades, teeth -- on. He remembered slipping and falling backwards, hitting his head on something, and opening his eyes again to the sight of most of one of his friends' heads, giant tooth-marks where the other half of it should be. He didn't remember if he'd screamed then, but he remembered running after...

The three of them had looked human, even as one lifted him by the front of his jacket, single-handedly, and threw him across the room, into the computer's display set into the back wall, leaving a spiderweb of cracks as evidence. He remembered sinking down to the floor, his back and ribs already protesting the rough treatment, and something in him clawing its way through his mind, desperate, determined, fearing for survival. They wouldn't stop. They wanted to eat him, devour him like they did the others. They wanted to kill him, sink their teeth in--

hunger.

--and he had to hit them harder, keep them from killing him. They wanted to eat him, but they couldn't, if he ate them first.

It had all made sense at the time, anyway, even the eating them part. At the moment, not so much. They'd beaten him, and badly. The white and gray monster... he'd done something, made him freeze on the inside. That would account for how he shivered. He'd probably been the one hurling ice chunks at him -- where had he gotten those? No, it didn't matter any more, it really didn't -- and the red one, he didn't even want to think about how the red one reacted, when he'd -- what had he done? -- tried to tackle him, to tear into him somehow, and he saw flames and... and he'd hit the back wall of the room again, and... it was all such a mess, it hurt to simply think about it, but he remembered that last blow, and a horrible sound, not quite a cry, that had come from him at it, dying out even before he'd lost his balance and hit the floor.

He tried to take another breath again, shivering harder. The seconds passed, and he managed to draw another, letting it out again slowly. Something was wrong.

He wasn't dead yet.

What were they waiting for...? Why hadn't they finished him off? Were they going to draw this out even further?

A choked sob escaped him, and he continued to lie there, waiting, not even daring to open his eyes...

((I didn't end up using it... :/))
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Harley, Leader of the Vanguards

April 2015

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