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sensitIV
[ Everything fades to black...and you awaken in a run-down one-room shack
You're wearing raggedy/a regular/fancy versions of your uniform/servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh. Don't you remember something about that, actually?
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]
You're wearing raggedy/a regular/fancy versions of your uniform/servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh. Don't you remember something about that, actually?
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]
no subject
straight into the trash bin.
And you can barely even settle in amongst the detritus before something else happens: writhing vines come crawling down the sides of the bin, entangling and wrapping everything within, including you. The squeezing is a bit painful, but surprisingly light - as far as punishments go, it’s pretty mild?
At least until thorns burst from the vines, piercing you all over your body. Not nearly enough to kill but still very painful and the moment it happens your blood begins to drip down to the bottom of the bin and you can feel something - crawling up your body, sucking up what blood it can, before delving straight into each of your wounds. They feel like threads - fibers which worm their way everywhere beneath your skin before hardening and thickening. There’s a flash of heat, and suddenly you feel like you’re bursting as vibrant red flowers rip their way out of your skin, protruding from each branch that now exists beneath your outermost layer.
Everything else in the bin seemingly sinks beneath your blood, dissolving into it. But that’s fine, isn’t it? That’s just the sort of thing you are. You kill everything around you.
At least once you’re back with the rest of your unit, you’re all sewn back together again - you’re still covered in flowers with rigid branches stuck painfully beneath your skin and the heat remains and you’re so so so hungry for -- blood? Flesh? Ah, anything, anything from any creature with blood…!
But that’s nice, isn’t it? Another chance to be worth something! ]