Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-33426474-20171023195640/@comment-36855838-20181207085250

Story may contain, but is not limited to: Murder backlash, Extreme guilt, Explained violence, Unexplained injuries, Swimming, Explained injuries, Unexplained violence, Violent injuries, Injured violence???

Violent injured people, Mostly implied violence, Scary hugs, Purple wallpaper, Orange carpets, Shirtless scenes, Rich history, Poor history, Middle-class history, Inciting incidents, Massive timescales, Botched spellcasting, Cosmic keystone lilims, Stretching the limits, Successful spellcasting, Obviously non-on'screen' violence, Deliberately disturbing values dissonance, Dark souls casting systems, Monster polygamy = collapse of. . . stuff, Out of character is serious business, Snarky disclaimers.

---

Well, shit.

Things had been going downhill for centuries, that much had been clear enough.

What started all of this horrid mess was the death of the Lord of monsters, or Maou.

At the time, nothing much noticeacble happened, which was the best everybody could have hoped for, really.

After all, nobody's wife was murdering them in cold blood with fangs, tendrils, or claws.

But it soon became apparent that all was not well, some rather oddly human behavior began to manifest amongst mamono, there were rumors of murders and muggings in poorer districts, and a skyrocket in draft signups.

Then war had broken out, and to everyone's surprise, they fought for their countries, tooth and claw, brutal violence. No combatant was spared, and we were reminded of the horrors of ages past.

Though gladly, their hearts were not "in it," surrenders were accepted graciously, and sometimes lustfully.

I was finished for sure, another dumb kid in way over his head.

So I knelt, my head bowed before the two mamono, who clearly sported enemy colours.

Their red, black, and blue uniforms ruffled in the bitter wind, a whitehorn and a yeti.

I cast my weapons aside.

The two approached cautiously, and the flat back of a single-edged sword pulled on my chin.

I looked up into the deep red eyes of the yeti, and she gave me a soft, gentle look.

Her face and teeth dripped with blood, and her white paws also seemed to.

She picked me up off the ground and deposited me onto the soft fatty patch of skin which served as a natural saddle.

Once she had joined me atop her companion, the whitehorn took off into the surging, swirling blizzard.

---

We arrived at a makeshift hospital, and soon a healer had cleaned out my wounds, he also ordered me to wait in a cellwhich I knew I would not be leaving soon.

The yeti who had discovered me soon joined me in my room, the front of her whole body now coated in blood.

She dragged the whole carcass of a buck in with her, along with a mostly devoured moose.

Her whitehorn friend sat beside her silently as she tore at the carcasses face-first.

Upon closer examination, one was not a c-@:&#^,%#.

I was suitably horrified, but the whitehorn trested this as normal.

"Why are you eating like tha-"

She tore off another massie hunk of flesh, and while chewing and still covered in deer blood, sat in my lap, pressing her soft body against me.

She clutched at me desperately, her eyes wild.

"The hunger, it never ceases. The churning besst in my gut is never satisfied. I was promised satation if I fought in the war, but I'm still starving, even as I eat. It's my own personal curse."

Her friend nodded sadly, and when I looked at her, I saw that her breasts were dripping, and almost immediately the yeti caught on, tackling her and draining her dry.

Compulsively licking her lips, she returned to assaulting the deer for meat.

The blood on her paws was something to behold, and seemed mixed with an odd black bile.

It was pure succubus blood, like that of my wife, who had died in my arms.

I felt deeply seated human rage well up, and decided to avoid staring as much as possible.

---

A treaty had been signed within a month of my capture, a war had not been fought in centuries, but my own mother, a dhampir, had told me of what wars had once been like.

I now knew why most records had been purged, even my mother's somber recounting now seemed romanticized.

Most of my time in captivity had been spent entertaining my new friends, who were eager to garner affecfion from the son of a frycook and a baker.

I certainly enjoyed their company, and I had learned to turn a blind eye to the blood which coated the cursed yeti, who it was clear loved me most.

Various feline mamono had sometimes joined us, cleaning her fur with their rough tongues.

She seemed most comfortable with a manticore by the name of Miranda, who worked in the hospital tent and crashed in my cell, firmly attaching her tail to me while she slept curled on a blanket on the floor.

I was delighted to have more relief, and since she always played a game of chess with me before dozing off, I was glad to have her company, as well.

---

When the war had ended, the killing had indeed stopped, but the trauma had not, I saw the hurried efforts of some mamono and men to dress their best, putting on crisp uniforms and bright silver earrings, standing tall and straight.

Some obsessively combed or brished their hair, until beautiful curls were straightened out.

I caught a jinko furiously scrubbing her paws, there were rough, raw patches of flesh where her fur had been compulsively licked until it was gone.

Her mad rambling carried into the hall, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK! Get out you damned stain! I have a fiancé waiting for me at home! I can't be covered in blood, I wont be-"

She collapsed to the floor, her hands bleeding and her arms covered in lather.

"I won't be safe enough."

I walked up to her, embracing her tightly, I had learned a few techniques from Allison, the yeti, and had gained quite a reputation as their military's "morality pet."

"How could he love me if I'm a killer?"

I gently stroked her head, scratching softly behind her ears, and slowly helped her lower onto her back.

"I don't have all the answers, but if he ever loved you, he'll stick with you."

I eventually got her to an infirmary, and stayed with her while she got treatment for her injuries, and soon she was called in to see the psycologist and psychiatrist, a mindflayer.

I was only allowed to remain as comfort while the woman dug up the poor Jinko's memories, but she had crushed the bones in the hand I had offered her for comfort.

As I walked back to my room that day, I recited from memory the tale of the goddess who fell from the heavens to earth.

---

Damian said:

Long ago, when the world was young, and the humans had not yet begun to frolick about the earth, a goddess gazed wistfully from the heavens 'pon a flower.

"Oh," said she, "the humble bumblebees wander gaily about the flowers, and yet I cannot reach them."

And so the goddess grew somber.

Then, she decided, being a goddess, that she could [uhh, do whatever the fuck she wanted!]

She reach'd down from the heavens, and strained too far, falling from the [. . .clouds?]

The goddess had landed alive, but her descent had bassed jagged rocks and sharp bushes, and so blood surged forth from gashes in her flesh.

From her blood rose the first woman, and then the first man. They knelt before their mother-goddess, and offer'd her their aid.

Crafty and bright, the little creatures constructed a bed for their goddess, and surrounded it with flowers.

Touch'd at their kindness, she lay there while she recover'd, brought fruit and meat by her children.

Under their care, her wounds stitched closed, and her bones returned to their proper state. ..

[And they lived happilyeverafterTheEnd!]

"Augh!"

I paid a price of pain for my rushed, botched ending, but at least my hand grew slightly more usable, not a perfect restoration, but it would help.

My yowl had woken Miranda, whose minor healing magic far surpassed my pitifully recited miracles.

---

Domestic life, if one could call it that with how little time my "wife," Allison spent with me, was fairly quiet.

She had taken in three other men, and while none of us were at each-others throats, we weren't exactly best pals, either.

Her gnawing hunger only grew worse with time, and so one morning when I found my herb filled prayer cloth in the eldest husband's hands, I was horrified.

He was seated on the edge of the bathtub, his posture reverent, and she was on the toilet, looking confused.

He was reciting a tale of bowel movements, and suddenly, there was a loud plop in the toilet.

She stood, her rear was covered in blood, and in the reddened water of the toilet bowl was a creature which looked like electric tape, or sweated onions.

That thing was quickly flushed, and her condition rapidly improved, her hunger more easily sated, and her mind more clear.

Possibly at his behest, she had been very affectionate with all of us following that.

---

Miranda frequently joined me for chess in the evenings, and lax as Allison was about relationships, she also dated me for quite a while.

Sex always happened in private, with her tail.

The other gents kept their own girlfriends, except for the one fellow, Andrew, who had fixed her cursed tapeworm trouble.

I had used my new and copious time to refresh and repair my mental catalogue of miraculous tales.

---

After months of practice, I went to the public pool.

Damian said:

Placeholder spot for a tale of bouyancy, will involve poseidon goddess, sunlight, and possibly end in m.c. sinking.

Stay tuned!

---

Typed tired, will return later for revisions.