http://wetandbothered5.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] wetandbothered5.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tdr_backup2010-02-03 02:29 am

solomon lived but he stayed in the ground

~ Something shrieks through the sticky bogs of Five. It almost sounds like a bird or something more reptilian but it could be anything, really, or anyone. It's quite hard to tell one noise from the other in here. Sounds carry strangely over the water and through the gnarled trees, becoming directionally ambiguous and all the more eerie.
As the cry dies down there is mostly silence apart from some small native creatures slipping at the edge of a pit of filthy water not far off. Away from the agitated splashing of angry shades that can be found in the deeper waters of the swamp, this expanse of mud and tree roots oozes through forever fairly quietly when left undisturbed. That's why the noise stands out when it happens. The little creatures lift their jelly-like heads when they hear it, a slow sucking noise from somewhere deep. Something is moving under the mud.

When the hand claws it's way up, the creatures scatter. It's every man for himself in Hell, even if you're a jelly creature. The hand scrapes at the surface with sluggish, jerking, oxygen-deprived movements. It seems to take ages until finally what the hand is attached to unearths itself like something out of a horror film to claw for air at where it's face should be. It is coated in slick green-brown mud from head to toe, and from all the muck it's near impossible to see the boy underneath. Birthed from his self-dug grave, this gasping monstrosity that calls himself Regulus surveys the area around him... then promptly begins retching up sick, slimy earth. ~

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-07 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
*what follows Reg's mud-slicked form is considerably less recognizable, clumps of mud frozen solid all over, giving the apprentice of some lumpy, inhuman beast - it has difficulty gasping, it's mouth nearly sealed shut, as it writhes, scraping at the mud desperately with thickly coated hands*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-08 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
*the thing gropes blindly towards Regulus, letting out a muffled sort of moan*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-08 09:43 am (UTC)(link)
*the thing gets a hold of Reg's leg and uses this admittedly weak leverage to haul the rest of itself from the impromptu grave, a fanged worm still suckles on its back but the thing doesn't seem to notice it*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 06:22 am (UTC)(link)
*crawls clumsily forward, collapsing into a brittle, icy heap beside Reg*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 06:25 am (UTC)(link)
*Barty gives another miserable sort of moan as the worm fights to drill through the ice of his his back*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 06:31 am (UTC)(link)
*the ice comes off surprisingly easily, Barty's constant screaming in the mud having paid off - his mouth movements preventing the ice from really sticking*





[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 06:56 am (UTC)(link)
*spits out some dirt, its crawling with worms of the slightly less horrific variety*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 07:16 am (UTC)(link)
*Barty's mud encrusted eyes widen in comprehension, the predicament had caused Barty to forget its origin completely*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 07:21 am (UTC)(link)
*wiggles his fingers, causing ice to crack loudly at the joints*

[identity profile] madlymirthful9.livejournal.com 2010-02-09 08:11 am (UTC)(link)
*were Barty's brain less deprived of essential processes, he'd recognize right now as one of those rare situations where it's rather fortunate that they're both in Hell - had this happened topside they'd both be coming away with some significant brain damage - but as it happens, Barty's mind is already unfogging (as much as Barty's mind CAN) and hazy memories of beforemud seep back to him*

I was digging. Well, I wasn't - my hands were.