DITO (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gutsgalore) wrote2020-04-19 06:17 pm
gutsgalore) wrote2020-04-19 06:17 pm
prismatica sample.
CONTENT WARNING FOR GORE.
With a sigh, Dito unwraps the paper that surrounds his sandwich. He’d been wandering for a few days, though he was not quite lost; he’d simply been tired of being in his apartment all the time, and had seen himself to the outskirts of Lunatia. Foolishly enough, however, he hadn’t packed quite enough water or rations for this trip. It’s true that he’s a Disciple, but it didn’t make him superhuman. Thankfully, he’d found an oasis to restock his water supply. The oasis was strange, surrounded by trees of unnaturally vibrant colours and crystals, but the water had been crisp and delicious in its own right. The sandwich was the last of his food, but travels with Zero had been rough and he’d learned to survive with little to nothing. This was a walk in the park in comparison.
Just as he’s about to bite down into his food, he hears it: The shuffling of a creature, somewhere. Dito’s muscles tighten and he drops his food into his knapsack, a hand flying to his spear. The atmosphere grows thick with an abundance of tension. Anything could be a hiding spot for an enemy, whether it be trees, crystals, or even the water or sand itself. He’d survive, though. He’s fought Intoners and Angels, and his skill with the spear had been unmatched in Midgard. The rustling continues, and soon enough, Dito recognizes the sigh of a horse. It’s odd, though -- looking around, there’s no horse to be seen --
Until he turns his head one more time toward the west, and there stands what can only be a unicorn. It shimmers, radiating its own glow of sorts. The creature is a holy white in both its mane and coat, and its eyes are a brilliant blue. Slowly, it approaches. Dito finds it beyond strange that such a mythical creature is stepping towards him, no matter how carefully it may be doing so, but perhaps it’s caught the scent of his food? He does catch sight of its slightly slender shape, the way its ribs emboss its coat ever so slightly. It must be lost and starving.
He’d heard tales of this thing, however. Originally, he’d heard it from a drunk man in Midgard, but somewhere he’d heard it in Lunatia, too. How eating the meat of a unicorn will grant you immortality. Dito cares not for a long life -- would rather live a fun and short one -- but he does see that it is still thick with its own meat, can envision the way its blood would spill and stain both its own and Dito’s coats. Dito is hungry. He is on the last of his food. He will be wandering back into the core of Lunatia with hunger rampant in his belly. So it should be understandable, the fact that he throws the food out toward the unicorn when it’s close enough, right?
Just kidding. Dito doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what others think of him. This horse is a feast, and a feast he shall have.
When the unicorn is about to bend its head down to give the sandwich a try, Dito quickly reaches for his spear. It’s observant, and it’s quick, but having caught it off guard, Dito is quicker. He lunges forward, slicing horizontally. The hit lands, and its neck is cut open. Blood gushes forth from the wound, covering Dito’s face in pure crimson. It falls onto the sand, onto the food; it covers the unicorn’s coat in its own life. The horse rears up and attempts to run, and it is fast, but Dito quickly readjusts how he is holding his spear. Sprinting forward, he throws it like a javelin. He knows it won’t have much ability to fly, but with such a short distance, it hits the creature’s thigh and downs it in one strike.
Dito is now the one to approach the other slowly. He doesn’t bother to jerk the spear out of the unicorn, instead taking out a pocket knife he’d stolen from some poor chap in the more populated areas of Lunatia. Kneeling down by the head of the beast, he lifts its muzzle up with one hand, inspecting it. Its deep blue eyes now seem to be speaking to him, pleading to aid it, to let it live, to run free.
“Yeah, right,” he says in a chuckle, and slowly scoops out the eye of the unicorn with his knife. It’s not long before the creature’s breathing slows, slows, stops.
Dito aims for another part of this corpse, now: The chest. Stabbing deep into the left side of the unicorn’s chest. It takes some effort, considering how far he’d gone, but he does make a great slice to let him carve off some of the flesh of the horse. Once he deems there to be enough space for him to dig his hands inside, he puts his knife to the side and does so. It takes some time and effort, and a little extra help from his knife, but he does manage to rip it out.
The heart, that is.
It is a great, meaty thing. Dito is covered in its blood, and he sighs in happiness as he looks at it, like it’s a gift from the Gods themselves. Perhaps it is -- he’d never been able to do this before, always got rushed (“hurry the fuck up,” rather) by Five or Zero before he could do so. He tilts his head, turns it about, looking at it from every angle he can manage. Sitting down and crossing his legs, Dito wastes no time in taking his teeth to it. A giant but soft, squelching crunch type of noise emits from the two of them as they bond, becoming one, Dito chewing delightfully on the heart and swallowing it with love. He will keep it there, in his stomach, forever if he so desires. He will never rid himself of it; he may shit it out and lose it but that blood of the unicorn will always be his, his, his, always part of him and one with him.
Engulfed with glee, Dito laughs as he eats more and more. He consumes; he ascends. He realizes that without an Intoner, his dark, blackened heart isn't whole. It never could be again, he’d thought; but with this, with the consuming of a literal heart, perhaps it can be stitched up. Perhaps it can be fixed.
With a sigh, Dito unwraps the paper that surrounds his sandwich. He’d been wandering for a few days, though he was not quite lost; he’d simply been tired of being in his apartment all the time, and had seen himself to the outskirts of Lunatia. Foolishly enough, however, he hadn’t packed quite enough water or rations for this trip. It’s true that he’s a Disciple, but it didn’t make him superhuman. Thankfully, he’d found an oasis to restock his water supply. The oasis was strange, surrounded by trees of unnaturally vibrant colours and crystals, but the water had been crisp and delicious in its own right. The sandwich was the last of his food, but travels with Zero had been rough and he’d learned to survive with little to nothing. This was a walk in the park in comparison.
Just as he’s about to bite down into his food, he hears it: The shuffling of a creature, somewhere. Dito’s muscles tighten and he drops his food into his knapsack, a hand flying to his spear. The atmosphere grows thick with an abundance of tension. Anything could be a hiding spot for an enemy, whether it be trees, crystals, or even the water or sand itself. He’d survive, though. He’s fought Intoners and Angels, and his skill with the spear had been unmatched in Midgard. The rustling continues, and soon enough, Dito recognizes the sigh of a horse. It’s odd, though -- looking around, there’s no horse to be seen --
Until he turns his head one more time toward the west, and there stands what can only be a unicorn. It shimmers, radiating its own glow of sorts. The creature is a holy white in both its mane and coat, and its eyes are a brilliant blue. Slowly, it approaches. Dito finds it beyond strange that such a mythical creature is stepping towards him, no matter how carefully it may be doing so, but perhaps it’s caught the scent of his food? He does catch sight of its slightly slender shape, the way its ribs emboss its coat ever so slightly. It must be lost and starving.
He’d heard tales of this thing, however. Originally, he’d heard it from a drunk man in Midgard, but somewhere he’d heard it in Lunatia, too. How eating the meat of a unicorn will grant you immortality. Dito cares not for a long life -- would rather live a fun and short one -- but he does see that it is still thick with its own meat, can envision the way its blood would spill and stain both its own and Dito’s coats. Dito is hungry. He is on the last of his food. He will be wandering back into the core of Lunatia with hunger rampant in his belly. So it should be understandable, the fact that he throws the food out toward the unicorn when it’s close enough, right?
Just kidding. Dito doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what others think of him. This horse is a feast, and a feast he shall have.
When the unicorn is about to bend its head down to give the sandwich a try, Dito quickly reaches for his spear. It’s observant, and it’s quick, but having caught it off guard, Dito is quicker. He lunges forward, slicing horizontally. The hit lands, and its neck is cut open. Blood gushes forth from the wound, covering Dito’s face in pure crimson. It falls onto the sand, onto the food; it covers the unicorn’s coat in its own life. The horse rears up and attempts to run, and it is fast, but Dito quickly readjusts how he is holding his spear. Sprinting forward, he throws it like a javelin. He knows it won’t have much ability to fly, but with such a short distance, it hits the creature’s thigh and downs it in one strike.
Dito is now the one to approach the other slowly. He doesn’t bother to jerk the spear out of the unicorn, instead taking out a pocket knife he’d stolen from some poor chap in the more populated areas of Lunatia. Kneeling down by the head of the beast, he lifts its muzzle up with one hand, inspecting it. Its deep blue eyes now seem to be speaking to him, pleading to aid it, to let it live, to run free.
“Yeah, right,” he says in a chuckle, and slowly scoops out the eye of the unicorn with his knife. It’s not long before the creature’s breathing slows, slows, stops.
Dito aims for another part of this corpse, now: The chest. Stabbing deep into the left side of the unicorn’s chest. It takes some effort, considering how far he’d gone, but he does make a great slice to let him carve off some of the flesh of the horse. Once he deems there to be enough space for him to dig his hands inside, he puts his knife to the side and does so. It takes some time and effort, and a little extra help from his knife, but he does manage to rip it out.
The heart, that is.
It is a great, meaty thing. Dito is covered in its blood, and he sighs in happiness as he looks at it, like it’s a gift from the Gods themselves. Perhaps it is -- he’d never been able to do this before, always got rushed (“hurry the fuck up,” rather) by Five or Zero before he could do so. He tilts his head, turns it about, looking at it from every angle he can manage. Sitting down and crossing his legs, Dito wastes no time in taking his teeth to it. A giant but soft, squelching crunch type of noise emits from the two of them as they bond, becoming one, Dito chewing delightfully on the heart and swallowing it with love. He will keep it there, in his stomach, forever if he so desires. He will never rid himself of it; he may shit it out and lose it but that blood of the unicorn will always be his, his, his, always part of him and one with him.
Engulfed with glee, Dito laughs as he eats more and more. He consumes; he ascends. He realizes that without an Intoner, his dark, blackened heart isn't whole. It never could be again, he’d thought; but with this, with the consuming of a literal heart, perhaps it can be stitched up. Perhaps it can be fixed.