shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

*Snicker.*

 

(playfriends! One the huskies bounces around and woofs excitedly, and wags her tail)

(the big white lusus huskie trots over to inspect @The Dolorosa, who smells just a bit too, well, jade, to be her charge. but it's good to know the neighbours.)

 

Anhelia sits down next to the Dolorosa and hands her a small heating pack. There's a pull-tab with "PULL FOR HEAT" written on it.

"I think the Mis might like it too."

 

More cold ones! mi! -some mi conference later, two sunspot appear over the undead ladies. The mis help by cuddling-

Mi! -more chasing, though one mi is climbing his leg-

 

Pirrr!pirrpirrpirr! -the mis most certainly do-

 

Anhelia strokes the Mis and spoils them with affection.

 

(one of the mottled huskies carefully sniffs at @Anhelia Aescar, remembering the strange person and smell from the place where their troll sisterfriendpackleader is now!)

 

Anhelia holds out a hand for the husky to sniff. She's pretty sure these are Oneira's huskies.

 

Fingers dance across my wires
Lighting little burning fires
My tiny world is set to burn
But then to where would you turn?

Oh, this place again.

 

-gratefully takes the heating pack-

Yo+u're undead as well then? A rainbo+w drinker o+r a shado+w dro+pper?

 

(the strange person smells inedible, and is awfully cold! maybe she's one of those people who have cold blood? the huskie isnt quite sure if she smells calm but she doesnt look like she'll be mean to the huskie, and so the huskie noofs her in the offered hand. pettings!)

 

Anhelia pets the huskie with cool fingers, scratching under its chin and behind its ears like dogs seem to like.

 

"Another troll tried to explain those to me and all I got was confused. I died, definitely and absolutely dead. Bled out." She displays the scar low on her throat where the shell fragment had ripped through her arteries.

"The nails did their job, though. My soul didn't leave the body. So they ... basically used my dead body as source material for the new creature they fashioned from it. Almost nothing you see is actually human anymore. Just grown within the template of a human. And then they put my soul back in and anchored it down with the Eternal's Nails ..." (she points out the metal heads of them in several places, driven deep into her skull) "... and there I was, a cold dead fish that could move. I feed mostly by draining energy from living people within about a half mile radius. It's useful but dangerous."

 

Ahhhh...So+ so+mewhat like so+me o+f the ridiculo+us sto+ries peo+ple tell abo+ut rainbo+w drinkers elsewhere. That we can steal energy and the like. It's no+nsense, o+bvio+usly. It's blo+o+d we need no+t so+me vague "energy".

Ho+w were yo+u killed? If that's no+t to+o+ rude to+ ask. I was ritualistically slaughtered by my fello+w sisters as part o+f a religio+us initiatio+n ceremo+ny in the Bro+o+ding Caverns. Standard stuff.

 

"War," Anhelia says. "Seventh year of the Northern campaign. I was a tank commander and had recently become commander of the Third Squadron of the 710th Armored. Problem is with armored vehicles, you can't see a damn thing when you're inside them. So it's always a tradeoff; close the hatches and rely on periscopes to see anything, or be more vulnerable with the hatches open but have a better chance of noticing an ambush before it happened. So I was standing in the hatch while we advanced in column, and the enemy got lucky with some airburst shells. Big chunk of metal went through my throat and I didn't do so well without blood.

"Initiation ceremony? That sounds fascinating."

 

Fascinating and secret. We're an eso+teric faith, yo+u see. There's just an endless line o+f secrets do+wn there. It's a bit silly, ho+nestly. They'd have my head and set my bo+dy o+n fire fo+r sayinf that much. Which is just fine. I'm never go+ing back.

If yo+u're curio+us it has to+ do+ with o+ur search fo+r the Vast Cro+ak. It reso+unds mo+st clearly in the blo+o+d, so+ there's an advantage in drinking it fo+r sustenance.

And yo+u're a military wo+man then?

 

"Military family," Anhelia tells her. "Aescars have been soldiers for generation upon generation. My father Anhel retired as Colonel of a guards regiment, and of course I wanted to make him proud. Poor fool I, thinking war might be heroic and my duty. And now I'm the last Aescar and the tradition ends with me, so I guess at least it ends as it started. I'm no longer an active duty soldier, though; I find employment far from home as a police captain in the great city of Ahn where they hire foreigners to be the police because they don't trust their own."

 

*inquirestigative chortles*

 

*The grub strikes out on its own, making a mad dash for FREEDOM.

It may or may not be charging directly into the closest pack of Mis.*

 

Rhubugummit banarbles!