Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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It was supporting itself on its arms, reared back and swaying softly, silently, like a mantis on a stick. Its feelers, each as long as a child's leg, tasted the pressure of the fear in the air, tickled over dreams, nuzzled sickeningly at reality. It was in the process of flooding this realm with its presence, filling every nook and cranny. It had begun the same way as it always does. A pin poking through the fabric, planting itself as a seed from the outside. It grew steadily, a bubble of food coloring in a jug of water, expanding bit by bit until it burst. There can be no nightmare without a dreamer, but a dreamer's distinction between reality and dream is the barrier it had needed to overcome. It could flood an uninhabited universe immediately, but in one that had life, it needed to, at least temporarily, take on a physical form to begin its work proper, a quantum demon that needed to defile the mind before it could defile the matter. It had finally turned the tide by manipulating the minds of more than half the population, and now its power was like a tidal wave.

But, not here. For some reason it hadn't been able to influence this area, as hard as it tried. There was life here, something not sleeping, and stubborn in its grasp of what is real and what isn't. The Magna Pater had searched, and found nothing that it could immediately interpret as an Earthly lifeform. It was stumped, and in its timeless intelligence, utterly infuriated. Something was holding it back, and whatever it was, it was sentient. The monster cast out another powerful sonic volley, seeking to vainly echolocate biological matter that stood out against the environment. Rocks, trees, grass. Inside the cave was smooth, marble-like stone, as the monster interpreted it, and little else. In its frustration it arched its back and slung open its dripping mouth to more than ninety degrees, yowling as would a baby, or a hyena, or a cat, or a droning cicada, if all four could somehow coherently combine form a single, terrible cry, reverberating for countless leagues, even through the black barrier of imagination that marked the end of this world.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by LeeRoy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by LeeRoy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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As he stretched out, Facere might feel like wandering over to take a closer gander at the lumpy log or fallen tree stretched out forty feet ahead of him. It'd be inexplicable, faintly curious, as if it were an modestly interesting object you'd just happened to notice on the ground. Undeniably he had awakened into a strange and malignant world, but nothing catastrophic seemed to be befalling him where he stood, and that fallen tree... It looked different from the others. There were few clues, if any, to his circumstance, but what harm could come from checking that thing out...

The Pull was a subtle strength. Rarely do fish know the hook from the bait. The emotion of faint curiosity was just that, faint, so that the victim wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't their own feeling, but a projection. The Magna Pater could imitate a fallen tree, deprived of its branches, quite well. It didn't need to shift with breath, and what features it did have that bore a similarity to moving creatures, eyes, nose, ears, arms, ect, could be folded down, folded in, glazed over with a light layer of dull mucous nigh indistinguishable from mist dew in the gloom. Even Facere's eyes, likely far sharper than those of a hawk, would probably not be able to tell that the inert form was or had ever been a living creature. No bark? A decomposing tree in damp conditions could easily take on visible textures hard to differentiate from the Magna Pater's flesh.

Were Facere to move within six yards of the object, the interest would wane, and in its place, for only a fraction of a section, would the weight of an immense sense of danger loom, overshadowing all. The pressure of the imminent activation of the Malocchio, a power that briefly warps the laws of nature, inevitably forecasts itself on a psychic level. He'd know without a doubt that if he continued looking at the form in front of him, he'd see something that might very well wind up not only dooming him, but his entire existence as well. Such petty fears as tigers and bears could only kill and eat the mortal body. Facere would know that whatever was before him ate souls as a bonus. A moment later two huge, glassy eyes would be turned in his direction. They were Facere's eyes, enlarged horrific parodies that pierced the fog and stood apart from the shape with such stark contrast and detail, that they might as well have been holographic images seen through 3D specs.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by LeeRoy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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"How da-!"

Everything went black before Facere could finish the word or phrase approximately meaning 'dare', as the monster reclaimed his sight at that moment. Facere would have no specific instinct warning him to shut his mouth that instant, nor to not finish the word on his tongue. At almost the same moment he'd be liable to feel something sock into his throat at high speed. As if it had eerily known and prepared for Facere to bellow at it, it had pegged the slime drenched rock into his open mouth the moment it had taken his sight.

The rock would have a thick layer of juicy, sopping mucous surrounding another semi-viscous layer with a greater density than saliva, so as to force the more malleable slime and saliva out of the way and squidge up against the walls of the throat, sticking fast and blocking the airway. The juicier saliva might ooze down into Facere's stomach as he tried in vain to swallow on reflex, an added touch of lethality, as the Magna Pater's mucous wasn't merely a venom, but a poison. The bufotoxic properties might cause Facere to begin hallucinating depending on how fast he might digest, unless his immune system recognised and stopped poisons as well.

If it got in there, the only way Facere would be able to dislodge it would be to tear out his throat lining, even if he could avoid having his fingers stick to it, which, in all likelyhood, he might try given his lack of insight about the monster's slime.

It didn't know how well Facere could survive without air, but the monster had decided to give this little trick it a go and see what the mischief wrought.


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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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The creature divined Facere's attack before it came, using its sensory buds to keep tabs on his incredible muscle activity so it could react in time to his blind attack. It had been anticipating a harsh response, all of Facere's mortal body language forecast it. Even then, with all its preparation and greased eel speed, it was still a surprisingly close call. It was like a volcanic eruption of electro stimulation. The monster unleashed an ear exploding cacophony of disorientating noise to keep its opponent from locating it as it wrenched its fingers into the ground and simultaneously heaved and thrust the coils of its winding tail against the ground to propel its body out of the way to Facere's left, with a bit more haste and less tactful finesse than it had been gunning for. The weapon smashed a furrow into the ground where its midsection had been a fraction of a second before, and continued skidding and tumbling for quite a ways, barreling down dead trees and crushing in small hillocks.

Facere would feel its next attack before he heard it, the mass of its tail set to crash into his Adam's apple at nearly the speed of sound, packing enough of a wallop to rival an interstate car crash. If the blow landed the tail would effective immediately wind about his neck with the momentum of the swing, compressing even his steely muscles as it threatened to cut off his blood supply. His sweat would be forced out to the sides due to the stupendous pressure of the tail and the much denser mucous it was secreting, forming a nigh impregnable seal around Facere's neck. If Facere got caught, even if he managed to find the means to somehow find the means to separate the Pater from its tail, taking the tail off his neck would require the strength and resolve to tear his own skin off.

Meanwhile, after if it landed the blow, the Magna Pater would begin contracting its muscles, hardening, hardening, so that after three seconds it'd be six times tougher to put down than it had been before. It'd be that much slower as well, but so long as it had a hold on its opponent it had little reason to worry about escape on either side.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by LeeRoy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Facere was the first to have ever tried to choke the Magna Pater, and it might have come as a surprise to him that the irony was not lost on his opponent. The fact that Facere was trying to turn the tables on it was interesting. But, Facere wasn't on par with the monster in this regard. The Magna Pater was a veritable connoisseur of strangling, reigning high on the echelon of dark gods that enjoyed watching the animation of life leave the features of those they could catch. It enjoyed taking its time, but there was no need for such formalities when it could still consume this one's soul. It ached to know his fear more intimately.

The monster's throat was seized by Facere, but like how his sweat had gifted him another second or two of life, so had his intended prey's glossy slime saved its hide. His initial grip would be tenuous to start, as a thin second layer of slick, soapy mucous would have immediately risen beneath the gluey surface of the first layer, delaying Facere's grip for a mortal fraction of a second.

With merciless deliberation, the Magna Pater reached up with one rugged hand to slip its claws beneath and around Facere's thumb, and with a gruesome *CRIK*, snap it backwards with all the force it could summon using the full strength of its arm, thus seeking to foil his attempt at successfully maintaining a good hold on its throat. It'd have used whichever arm Facere's thumb was nearest to. Erstwhile the monster's tail continued tightening, tightening, tightening, to the point where Facere might feel the small bones in his hand grinding against each other as his neck was compressed and his circulation cut completely off. He didn't need oxygen in his blood, but it would probably be safe to assume that Facere did need blood itself. His brain wouldn't be getting any. A mortal animal can only retain consciousness for around seven seconds when placed in a blood choke, though a significant loss of muscular control would occur after five seconds.
That'd not be the monster's full intent, either. Facere was as hard as rock to be sure, but the Magna Pater could crush rock to dust with its phantasmagorically strong tail. Before he'd pass out, his hand would be due to fracture and his vertebrae separate.

His last hope might be to try and pick the monster up and dash it against something hard, or perhaps to try and stomp the evil bastard, but it'd for sure not make it easy for him. It was only a few seconds away from sextupling its durability. After those few seconds it'd be slower, sure, but by then Facere may be considerably weakened.
If he tried to imitate the monster and peel its tail off his neck, he'd find that the last foot culminating in the tail tip had more or less solidified into a slimy super-rubber to perfectly resist any attempts at prying it off. Facere probably wouldn't have much time for that, though.
Whilst he was bent over, thumb and neck captured, the monster would ferociously yank on both body parts, seeking to wrench Facere right off his feet and onto the ground, whereupon it could be presumed that he'd not be likely to rise from again, considering both his hands were trapped and this particular demon god of black dreams still had a very large, very powerful mouth with which it may be inclined to use for the purpose of biting heads off.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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As much as Facere tried to muscle and skin his way out of the Magna Pater's garrote, it'd not budge over his jawline and skull curvature. It'd have been easier for an average joe to try and escape the rear naked choke of a Gracie, or a condemned criminal from a hangman's noose. As for his own grip on the monster, it seemed not to have an immediate effect. This was a beast that could survive for hours fully decapitated, and even if it were, its muscles would only continue to tighten, a serpent's vitality.

That left smashing it as a primary option. It wasn't behind Facere, it was to his left with its body on the ground, neck gripped in his hand. It had only moved that far to the side to avoid the pillar he'd chucked at it, and hadn't needed to outright scale Facere to reach his neck. To slam it he'd need to use his arm, and he did have the monster securely in his grasp. Surely chokeslamming it into the marble cave would hurt it significantly...
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I concede defeat. My mental image of the fight was wrong, I didn't read your posts right, and learned the hard way what my mistake was.

GG, win to Doc.
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