A Bone Dance

[Garuga]

In shattered realms, the past screams more loudly than ever. A faint whispering, at times beckoning for attention and at times demanding release. Scars that could never be fully rid of, marks that will forever be left imprinted. Memories, whether his own, or memories that were taken from others. Those are the imprints in the mind that will stay forever, just as The Devourer wished. This place, this emporium of lost memories begging to be known, this immense altar, dedicated to those billions that had taken their final breath there. Ruins, of course, but ruins of such promise. Blast marks, rubble, random trinkets of little apparent worth. This was a lovely place, which is why when The Devourer revisited the place, he made sure to undergo his own version of a community cleanup every time.

By community cleanup, other than him browsing through the fallen structures one by one like he would at a supermall, he searched for cannibals. Within these ruins, the inhabitants were many. Outcasts, of the society above, or degenerates and criminals, along with the occasional innocent and pure soul that somehow ended there formed the bulk of this shadow population. Unlike him, who moved in and out as he willed, and those below have learned since some time ago to not bother him. But still, when he was not here, the conditions of this shadow realm meant that food of all things was certainly hard to come by. Nevertheless, food still always had to come from somewhere, and what other crop was there other than these revenants of civilisation?

Of course, disease, both physically and mentally had meant that eating each other would be a tough chore even for the most maniacal of the population. That was why outsiders, with their untainted souls and bodies, were so desirable and rare here, for being able to hunt one down meant solid food for quite a period of time. But of course, they were rare to find, so the raving groups of loosely assembled scavengers and cannibals tended to have to resort to hunting down each other. Rag-tag teams and groups, at times of a larger scale, combated each other, for the victor could lay claim over not only bullets and other resources, but most importantly, meat.

The Devourer was a fair man. He knew that food needed to be obtained somehow, but cannibalism was as close to an irrational dislike as it could be for him. Every time he passed by, he would hunt down the most volatile of the cannibal groups, to prevent any one group from achieving permanent dominance. Of course, these deaths provided others with resources and food, but as a reward to those who had managed to stay alive through grit and skill, he herded flocks of clean and untrained beings into this fallen city after he was satisfied with cleansing every time. In this way, he made sure that the fun would never end. Of course, those that weren’t hunted down by the earlier residents would become exactly as them, and in this way hope and strife were one.

Entering one of the many wrecked buildings, The Devourer was greeted by a mangled set of a skeleton. Even without close observation, he knew that this set was fresh indeed. Placing one hand on the skull, he could see everything. Oh, this was one of the ones brought in by him last time. Name he knew, but it was insignificant to even consider. What he wanted was the information of the group that had finally got him. Some say that his methods drives one to insanity, but for The Devourer, watching one’s death through their own eyes was simply another trip to the theatre. Oh ho ho, they were particularly cruel to this one, letting him live for quite some time as they harvested only what they needed. And finally, a dagger to the throat, but the blood was carefully collected into a bowl. Nothing was wasted, nothing was thrown away. Marrow, any single trace of sinew or fat was rid from the now bare skeleton.

The Devourer stood up, smile hidden beneath mask and robes. If only these people could learn to cook properly, then perhaps he would not be nearly so peeved.

 

[Veritas et Lux]

She was well endowed with the fierce boggling sense- she could hone in on them from distant systems sometimes. The force was alive and well, not like her ghostly cold self. Snow flakes tattered the ground around her feet leaving the smallest patches of grass and dirt frozen and covered with a white kiss and marked by her presence on the long tattered planet. Taris- it's undercity for eons has been a long hidden nexus crossing over to the dark side. It was magnetic in nature, in space, and in time, pulling ignorance towards it only to devour them whole.
She had felt it, despite the immense surrounding dark side energy steaming out of the core of the planet, that he was here on taris. Somewhere, anywhere, just not sure where. She was too close to it now, too close to the planet. Hell she was on the planet and it's nexus threw her senses aloof. She spent many days out here, wandering around aimlessly following leads. She knew though that it was only the planet toying with her. Giving her bait and then pulling it away, laughing at her with it's hot molten insides.

"I will find you...", she whispered to herself in the hushed, saddened voice that was her ghostly apparition.

She honed in, once more sensing close by a source of animosity. The shrill cold winds followed her wherever she went. It followed her even inside the dusty buried shelter that was indeed ruins...

Among the darkness she witnessed herself, animosity at it's prime, but it wasn't him... The snow began to wander, she was close enough to him that the snow flakes began to nestle themselves along his skin now. She observed him closely now, awaiting the silence to be broken.

 

[Garuga]

It was slightly chilly, even more than normal in this city of shadows. Indeed, all that here is shade, and without bright fires it would be uncomfortable for those that dwelled here. But it could not snow down here, and yet that distinct chill could be nothing else. The snow flake that brushed upon his black, all covering coat was certainly real enough, but it was unnatural, in principle and essence. It’s cold attempted to bore through him to the inside as opposed to being content at freezing his body. The Devourer smiled, and those dwellers who had seen his teeth exposed before would be thankful that he still had his mask on if they were watching. It was rare, oh, so utterly rare for others to search for him without him having arranged for the ordeal.

But this frost, of all the places to approach him, the cold chose here. But if they thought they could bring a chill within The Devourer, they would have to try harder. Still, a guest was a guest, especially since it was rare of him, the host, to ever receive one here. "Welcome, cold mother, I could not say that you have come here during the best time of the year, though seeing as this is your work, surely you could tone it down enough for me to prepare two mugs of beverages?"

 

[Veritas et Lux]

She slithered through the shadows, in the darkness she was everywhere. The cold breezes that followed her caught up, finally. She didn't understand that it was her, however she never questioned the cold winds, keeping tabs and tracing footsteps, but innstantly accepted them in her old wisdom. Through the shadows she was translocational, appearing all around him. It was her that was present in this absence of light, in the cold shrill nipping that was her frost. She lay form before him within his eye-sight, almost instantaneously.
"I can't, the winds follow death.", she whispered within his ear- now behind him, instantaneously. She referenced herself, although he surely would understand what she meant- she wasn't confidential however that he would understand whom.

She could sense him easily throughout the ruins- sense his primal aura, it bypassed the force nexus for it wasn't through the force that she felt him.

Heee.... She thought. He will find him for me... He will easily sense his dark animosity, he'll easily be blind to this foolish planet's heart...

She crippled him, weakened his legs and brought him to his hands upon the now chilly ground.
"Obey me, mutt...", she commanded of him. She would proceed to rub his face within the ground. His nose- she would bring it to him, the scent he needed.
"Yeeees.... That's it, find him for me... hound.", she snarled and snickered with her words. Olivier would not hide forever... No, she would find his ass.

She dug- deep at the topsoil protecting his consciousness. She would bring it up at the roots. And once it was exposed, she would plant a seed, his primal instincts- they would run wildly. They would bring him to that most familiar, suppressed state of red eyes and foaming mouth, snarling and growling at the scent he would follow for her...

He was her krath now-