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The stone halo
(Personal RP)

It was sometime very early in the morning when the vulture's thoughts began. They permeated Kaveri's mindscape, drawing black and jagged lines along the corners of her mental vision; fragmented and broken sentences in a raspy, hissing voice sounded out her line of thought.

[go to] (the red) {clearing}

Kaveri did not know that these instincts were not hers. She did not know to suppress them, but instead let the scavenger bird's instincts take over when it saw fit -- it wasn't a real part of her, but she didn't know better. The shadowy black tendrils curled around her thoughts like a sickly vine.

She rose from her bed, putting on a shirt and carefully tiptoeing over her projects - the still-drying sign she had painted earlier, as well as the half-carved mask - until she reached the door of her duplex, opening it and vanishing outside. As she walked along she collected medium-sized rocks and held them in her skirt, frequently stopping to pick one up. There was no particular reason for this, but the human part of her that was not tainted by the black lines felt the need to take rocks with her -- something to mark her path so she wouldn't get lost, perhaps?

Kaveri went into the jungle, her skirt full of rocks, as she started going back to the familiar clearing -- the clearing was practically burnt into her memory. The sun had just started to climb up into the sky, casting a faint orange tint on everything. She entered the clearing to hear the familiar sound of the flies and see the shining little gnats hovering in the air. Stepping into the middle of it, she surveyed the area and fidgeted with the held-up hem of her skirt.

It took her a moment to figure out what she would do with those rocks. She began to walk around the area, dropping a line of rocks around the edge of the clearing. Before long, a stone halo circled the clearing and the remaining rocks were piled in the middle. When the rocks were no longer being carried, Kaveri dusted off and smoothed out her skirt, looking over what she had just done.

She paused as human consciousness started to crawl back from the vulture's grip -- after all, she was not that far along in her transformation, so the instincts faded after a little while. What had she just done? The long-necked woman jumped back, suddenly startled by the fact that she was here at this hour of the morning and not at her duplex. "What the ******** am I doing here?!"

The black lines begun to recede from her mind. Kaveri wheeled backwards to the edge of the clearing before she turned and ran away, bolting home as quickly as her legs could carry her through the dense jungle. She shouldn't be here. She wasn't supposed to be here. Of all the places on this awful isle, why did she have to be drawn here?

Needless to say, this was not a good way to start off the day.

Zach followed Kaveri doggedly, not wanting to get lost or lose sight of her. Every once in a while Zach had to look and make sure nothing further was slipping out of the rabbit's punctured chest cavity, but it seemed Kaveri had made short work of the loose organs back in the village. The bloody mass of fur was carried dutifully for however long they walked. The brightly colored stones caught his eye as they walked past each path marker, as the shadows of the jungle were no obstacle for his improved nighttime vision. When the space between the trees finally cleared out into something of a breathing space, he glanced around. This place was certainly new. He was unsurprised he hadn't seen it before - the jungle was a very large place.

""Wow..." If it weren't for the lucid cloud of gnats that seemed to roil over the stone-marked ground, it would have seemed like a nice place to get away from the island's usual grip of terror. "How did you find this place? And what's with all the bugs?" With his free hand he made a casual swipe at the air in front of him. The last thing he needed was to breath in a mouthful of tiny bugs.

He started to proffer the bloody carcass at her from behind the ring of stones, but then changed his mind. His feet were already dirty anyhow, and it had been his stupid rampant emotions that had killed the rabbit. He'd have to bury it or it would probably haunt him. Taking a deep, gnat-less breath, he stepped across the stones and into the middle with Kaveri. "So, uh, where should I put it down?"

Quickly he scampered over to the other side where Kaveri had dug into the dirt. He continued to swat around in front of his face. The thought of bugs in his mouth... was not as terrible as it could have been. But still, it wasn't something he was eager to experience.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He quickly set the lump of fur and blood down in the scratched-out spot. Some of the blood that had been dripping out had coated his hand again, and splattered in a short trail as he withdrew his hand. He squinted for a moment while he straightened up again. Was it just him, or was the ground here a bit more red than mud usually was?

Shrugging his shoulders and waving at the gnat filled air again, he turned to Kaveri. "We're not just going to leave it like this, are we? I mean... something - or someone - might run off with it."

Zach nodded, not finding much in the way of words to express himself on the matter. He wasn't particularly superstitious or religious in any sense of the words, but he had learned his respect for death long ago. "Yeah, burying it would be a good idea."

He took a few steps back as she worked, surveying the area around them. it wasn't very large at all, and all those gnats... something was obviously attracting them - he hardly ever saw so many bugs in one place. Perhaps it was just the humidity or some odd behavior of the tiny bugs. He peered down as she worked with surprising and deliberate focus. It was all very elaborate. He had little idea what the symbols meant, but perhaps Kaveri would share later. He was content to move farther away from the grave, all the while batting gnats away.

It was the least they could have done.

"Wouldn't doubt it," he frowned, moving closer to the edge of the ring of stones. He surveying his left hand and the mix of blood and fur that coated it. "I don't think anything would try to dig it up anyhow. We should probably go. As nice a place this is... I think we should probably... clean ourselves off or something."

Zach gave the adorned grave one more look of puzzlement before he looked up at its decorator. No one had zapped him yet. Things were going much better than he'd first assumed, and his panicking had gone down a considerable amount. He took a careful step over the halo. "Yeah. Don't want to disturb its vengeful spirit or anything..." He was tempted to smile, but the whole situation was a little too serious for his liking.

"Believe me, I don't blame you. All that blood..." He unfolded his wings a little, stretching them as far as the tiny things were capable of spanning. "If soap doesn't, what will? Let's try. It has to come off eventually... Sure, your duplex works."

Newt had been wandering all afternoon. His heart just hadn't been in his sweeping that day, and he had decided that perhaps a mental health day was in order, allowing him to go exploring a bit. Lunch itself had taken a long while, as it normally did and he had followed the swooping and buzzing swarms of the various natives to the island deep into the jungle. He had been feeling sick and sweaty all morning- the prime reasoning for his half-hearted work earlier- but this deep away from the village and into the jungle heat, he was sweating through his jumper in wet, salty patches. His hair stuck to his face which glistened in the light that broke through the canopy above him.

Resituating his grip on his broom handle, (he had not too long ago finally removed the broom itself when he wasn't "on duty") The janitor was about to turn back when something caught his eye. The frog in him, still starving for a bigger breakfast pulled him forward after the large black spot, hopping and stumbling wearily but in a thouroughly detirmined fashion. His tongue missed it's first clear shot of the shape, and Newt was able to catch another glimpse of what he confirmed to be an enormous, fat, crunchy fly. His stomach growled, his skin crawling and aching. He needed to eat. He hadn't eaten enough and he was getting sick. Jungle sickness.

Suddenly, another fly just as large and juicy buzzed into his line of vision, and Newt veered in his path, nearly knocking his head on a tree and snagged himself in the underbrush. As the third fly joined the other two, he had no choice but to see where they were all seeming to flow to- and he wouldn't have known untill the smell suddenly hit his sences. The scent of rotted meat and carcasses was suddenly drowned out by the mesmorizing buzz of the jungle's insects that had swarmed to devour whatever the vulture had left behind.

Newt crouched at the base of the clearing, marveling at the smorgesbord laying befor him. Aim or not, all he had to do was hop-hobble through the afternoon heat with his mouth open and chew, saving his tongue for anything exceptional he wanted to grab.

Newt stumbled where he had been hunting as he heard the voice, his face paling. He had been caught! Someone had seen him and would yell and punish him and his head was spinning and the flies...

Durring his run, his sweat had completely soaked through his back and chest, his blue jumper showing the wetness in dark splotches. He had unzipped it to his waist in the heat, letting the top end drag behind him on the ground as he went and his white undershirt was drenched against his glistening skin. He turned towards her slowly with a terrified, appologetic expression, "I... I... I... ah- I wuh-was j-just-"

At the sight of the half changed bird woman, the froggish janitor gave another cry of alarm, scrambling backward to fall onto his bottom and into a carcass.