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A(n Un)Familiar Problem

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Concrete Jungle Pt.1
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    • Adhoc vote count started by Farseer Sen'Zabl on May 6, 2021 at 5:05 PM, finished with 17 posts and 15 votes.
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    And heres No.3 in this sudden and unexpected burst of stuff getting done. I can't say how long I'll be able to keep this up, so enjoy it while it lasts!

    Hunting. You've done it before, but you would almost say that it had been for fun: stalking unsuspecting prey was one of the most entertaining things you could do back home. And successfully pouncing on and killing your target was frankly an almost addictive feeling, even before thinking about how much your choice prey insisted on harassing you day-in day-out.

    Hunting the Glyt to make them pay for tormenting you? it was simply right, like you were fulfilling your purpose in life.

    Yes, you were an adept hunter when solely motivated by petty grudges. But now things are different: you're not hunting for the thrill of the hunt nor to avenge your constantly ruined naps, but because you need something. Food presumably. You shoot a second glance at the flyers, dedicating a bit more of your focus to them than you had while a few moments ago, speculating again about their viability as a meal. As if sensing your train of thought, the entire flock took wing with indecent haste, scattering away from the bridge as if their lives depended on it.

    Which to be fair, they probably did to some extent.

    Oh well. They didn't look all that tasty anyways and you can't imagine they'd be any fun to eat with all those feathers. Plucking them first would likely take more time than such a meagre-looking meal would be worth anyways.

    Especially when there was bigger prey on offer, like those Rumblers. You could still hear them racing across the bridge overhead. Do those things never tire of rushing around?

    No. Nothing is inexhaustible, nothing is eternal: Everything must tire eventually. a determined hunter can wear down any prey with simple persistence, you can feel every ounce of your instincts declaring such to be a fundamental truth of existence. If there are Rumblers still rumbling along, then that just means they must have been resting while the ones from last night were doing their thing, and thus the ones from last night must be resting somewhere right now and thus should be easy pickings.

    All you have to do is find where.

    As contemplation turns to determination, you in turn begin to make your way along the walkway, towards the next length of metal latticework that spanned the length of the bridge's underside. It's right here after all, and easily takes less effort than climbing along the underside. Faster too, come to think of it. why didn't you think of this sooner?

    The walkway led straight to something that wasn't quite a wall so much it was as built into one, a door of some kind unless you were mistaken. Though you're not quite sure how to open it, not that it mattered too much. Not when you could probably 'apply foot' until it opened if you wanted. But kicking open a random door that could have anything on the other side sounded like a waste of time.

    You were simply going to stick with the more direct option of climbing the wall and dismounting much the same way as you'd climbed onto the underside of the bridge in the first place, though not before remembering to summon your camouflage again: you'd still rather avoid being seen if you can help it.

    And wow, keeping the camo up is taking far more effort than you remember. You're going to have to keep an eye on that, lest you end up letting it slip at a poor moment.

    The world seems very different than it was before you fell asleep: the shadows, or at least the ones dark enough to be useful, are all gone. It's a lot brighter now, enough to sting your eyes a bit and thus be generally a lot less comfortable than it was when everything was dark. At least it's not as hot as it was back home though, this place seems to have that going for it.

    That still leaves you with some issues though, such as there now being almost nowhere to hide. No shadows, no long grass, just open space all the way down the streets. You can't help but find that far more alarming now than it would have been last night, and for good reason too. The streets seem to be far less desolate now, and you're not just talking about Rumblers here:

    Two-leggers, and more than a few of them.

    This… could be a problem: you'd kinda-assumed that Drills was one of a kind, if only because you couldn't fathom the idea of there being more than one unstoppable murder-machine running around and out to put an end to your existence. Then again, she could still be one of a kind: you haven't seen any other blondes thus far, and certainly none with such big Drills in their hair. Maybe she's just a rare kind of two-legger? Some kind of super-powerful combat breed perhaps?

    Just to be safe you should probably avoid the two-leggers entirely, or as much as you can anyways. They don't seem to have spotted you yet, they aren't even paying attention to their surroundings for the most part, so sneaking around them shouldn't be too difficult hopefully. The trick is just to keep a respectful distance and make sure not to drop your camouflage…

    Like you apparently had during that brief contemplation session. Oops.

    You quickly, and rather sheepishly, corrected that little error. Luckily you don't seem to have been noticed, further reinforcing your point about them not paying enough attention- and you did it again.

    Once more, you will yourself to blend in before anything can see you. Clearly you need to do a lot less thinking and a lot more doing right now.

    Hunting: that's the plan and what you should be focused on.

    ---​

    It was slow going as you stalked through the streets, constantly having to stop, change direction, or otherwise cross the black strip quickly to avoid the two-leggers. Fortunately, they seemed to be utterly oblivious: too lost in their own goals to pay any attention to what was going on around them.

    Seriously, one of them had even tripped over a leg you'd left in a poor spot and barely reacted beyond hopping a couple steps. Do you even need to be camouflaged here? Not to hide from them evidently.

    Well, whatever, You'd found your prey: a lone Rumbler that appeared to have fallen asleep, or so you were guessing. It's eyes weren't glowing, though that proved little given that none of the other Rumblers eyes were glowing either, but more notable was that this one wasn't growling anymore and was utterly motionless. This wasn't the first you'd found, a fair few of them seemed to be sleeping like this along the edges of the black strips. This was, however, the first one you'd found that was alone and entirely isolated from two-legs and other more lively members of their kind: The perfect prey.

    Slowly and silently, you leant onto your springier back legs, further and further back as your muscles coiled tight. It had only been a few days, or maybe lifetimes considering what you've learnt, since the last time you'd prepared to pounce like this. And yet it was an almost nostalgic feeling, which was a touch weird given how little time it had been since you'd last done this. Then again, you could almost say that you've lived more in the past few days than however many came before. The risk of being brutally murdered kinda sucked, but you had to admit it was far more interesting than doing the same thing day-in day-out.

    Finally you felt the slight stinging in your legs, demanding release from the tension you were applying to them: So you obliged happily.

    In an instant, you went from a stationary, camouflaged object, to a chitinous missile flying at your target with far from inconsiderable force. Your aim was perfectly accurate: landing you just in front of the still-slumbering Rumbler in a fashion that would likely look like you'd missed or fallen just short of it, right until your forelimbs came down on what you presume to be the things head with nothing less than staggering force: Hard enough that its back half leapt up into the air just as far as its front was driven down by the ferocious might behind the crushing blow.

    The thing seemed to wake up instantly: its eyes flashing a lively amber as the now-wounded beast began to, for lack of a better description, honk loudly in alarm. Clearly your first strike wasn't enough to do the job, something you instantly set out to correct before the thing either gathered its senses enough to fight back or its honking cries attracted unwanted attention.

    Strike after strike rained down upon your stunned prey, your strong forelimbs crushing its metalic carapace mercilessly as you deeply gouged anywhere you weren't stomping with your claws, slashing through and shredding the plate until it simply ceased to exist. Finally, your flurry of attacks came to an end, and after one last stomp you let the violence of your assault cease, your prey having fallen silent and its eye lights gone dark.

    Black-ish smoke was slowly rising from the Rumbler's ruined head as ichor slowly pooled beneath it, leaving you to bask in your victory for a moment or two, before a more pressing question arose: how are you meant to eat this thing? As far as you can tell there's nothing soft enough to chew without hurting your teeth, and if you're entirely honest it doesn't smell all that appealing to start with.

    Have you just wasted your time?

    Well at least you have a good idea of what it takes to kill one of these things, and it is far from unachievable, at least when they're staying still. Which they generally don't seem to be. Maybe you'll just to to write this one up as a learning experiance and move on. No! There has to be a way to eat something from this thing. Maybe it's like you: coated in armour but with soft-spots dotted around? You've already sunk the time and effort into killing it, you can afford to spend a few more moments jabbing its remains and investigating further.

    Lets see:

    Hard.

    Also hard.

    Still not chewable.

    Hard and sharp, not sticking that jagged lump of its husk in your mouth if you have anything to say about it.

    Ah! There: Soft spot. The round bits seem less tough, or at least something that won't de-tooth you if you try and bite it.

    A quick slash with your claws freed a chunk of black hide-like stuff from the body… and left you immediately and immensely disappointed at the revelation of the round-bits being hollow. Seriously, does life hate you? Successfully track down some prey? Check. Kill it? Check. Find out that there's basically no part of it you can even try to eat only after you've wasted all that effort on killing it? Quite possibly check.

    The tough black stuff better be damn tasty, or you're gonna have to write off the Rumblers as a potential food source. It's got to be better than nothing though, right? It should be food and you are hungry… At least worth an experimental bite.

    Pluh! Yuck! It tastes worse than boot! Screw this: You're leaving! Rumblers? Totally inedible, not worth hunting. Peace out!

    ---
    A few hours later...
    -    ​

    "My car!" The voice yelled, laced both with shock and a hint of despair, as a set of now redundant keys dropping to the pavement with a clink.

    The owner of said keys followed a scarce moment later, slumping to their knees at the sight of their beloved, once pristine vehicle, now reduced to a wreck that was fit only for the scrap heap: the bonnet crushed in, no doubt destroying the engine block in the process, and utterly shredded like some madman had taken a chainsaw to it. Cracks spider-webbed the windscreen, though somehow it seemed to have remained unshattered.

    And to top it all off, some nutjob had clearly stripped a chunk from one of the tyres.

    For a few moments, they just sat there, mourning, before finally muttering a few words in begrudging acceptance of the situation that had befallen them:

    "I guess that's what I get for driving without insurance."

    ---
    Meanwhile, back at the story…
    -​

    Well that was just brilliant, you groused to yourself, having found a decently secluded alleyway to hide in for the moment while you worked some frustration out of your system.

    There went a whole chunk of the day: wasted on hunting something that wasn't fit to chew, much less eat. And boy were you feeling hungrier after all that work, hungrier and tired-er. All you had to show for your work was some newfound knowledge about the local wildlife, which while certainly interesting was sure not the sort of thing that you had use for.

    With an exhausted sigh, you let your eyes slip closed and take a brief rest from the way the light out here stung your eyes. It was almost welcoming how everything had been reduced back to vague outlines. Though it wasn't a perfectly familiar experience: Back in the caves, anything that wasn't an outline was simply a mundane grey-black.

    Here? It seemed to be a bit different: less dark. You were still seeing in shades of greys mostly, forty-nine or less by your reckoning, but they seemed to be less dominating: fading out in the distance and becoming more defined they got closer. Depth perception! That's what it was! You seemed to have gained depth perception in your dark-vison now, a fact that seemed to be further refined as you glanced arou-

    Woah! That's a bright pink! It's definitely far away, very far away, but that didn't make it any less like staring into a sun! albeit with less eye-burning.

    What is that doing there?

    You flick your eye open briefly, confirming that there wasn't a blindingly bright pink light in front of you: There wasn't.

    And yet the moment you closed your eyes again, there it was! Perhaps with a *very* faint speck of blue next to it, unless your eyes were playing tricks on you.

    You take another random glance and- hey! If you really focus There's a purple dot and a yellow dot somewhere in that general direction too. Possibly: It's hard to tell with all that pink.

    What's going on here? Where did these glowy-bits come from? What are they?

    Yet another curious glance around, and… well it's not a colour. More of a faint blob of familiar grey-black. You're not quite sure how you can tell but you're pretty sure this blob wasn't too far away, where as the others felt distant: on the edge of your ability to see.

    Whatever was going on here, it was… interesting. Perhaps worthy of taking a break from hunting to investigate.


    [] Get back to hunting: you're not getting any less hungry.

    [] Investigate (one of) the Colours:
    -[] Pink! It's the brightest.
    -[] Purple.
    -[] Yellow.
    -[] Grey-black.

    [] Something else. (Write in?)
     
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    • -[x] Pink! It's the brightest.

    I'm guessing these are people.

    We don't want to go to Mami and die again. Purple is probably Homura and would have the same result. That leaves Madoka and the mystery gray-black thing which I'm guessing is a Witch. That or an OC magical girl.

    Between those two, I want to see how Madoka reacts to a large semi-sentient spider.
     
    Yay! You accepted my idea! It turns out that the Rumblers weren't very tasty, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
     
    [X]Investigate blue
    Or
    Take head count of the colors
    Wait is green noticeable amongst them?
     
    [X] Investigate (one of) the Colours:
    -[x] Grey-black.
    Let's visit a still unhatched Charlotte, shall we?
    And to top it all off is always better to go with something familiar.

    And is the closest one too.
     
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    [X] Get back to hunting: you're not getting any less hungry.

    Grey is likely Kirika, who also murderslaughter us very quickly
     
    [X] Investigate (one of) the Colours:
    -[X] Grey-black.

    While going to say hello to Madoka would be fun, I can't imagine Homura would be too interested in letting a familiar get that close to her stalking target precious friend.
    The grey-black is apparently somewhat familiar, so probably a witch or familiar, so let's go cannibalise!
     
    [X] Get back to hunting: you're not getting any less hungry.

    Most of the investigate options make sense, but are very dangerous given it's walking straight into a magical girl or a witch, in all likelihood.
     
    [X] Investigate (one of) the Colours:
    -[x] Grey-black.
    The least lethal option. Homura will murder us if Pinky doesn't bond to us quickly enough, and we're a murderball. Bonding will not happen quickly.
     
    [X] Investigate (one of) the Colours:
    -[x] Grey-black.

    Funny that everyone assumes cannibalism is the only option here. Maybe we'll make friends instead!
     
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