Melkor

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

This RP is pretty fun so far. I especially like the darker aspect to it - I find that many GMs don't like it when you make a fairly dark character, and that's fine, but in reality things can be pretty dark and that's where I like to write.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

Tokyo, Japan
-- // January 24

“Several new cases of missing children have been reported in the last twenty-four hours bringing the toll to nine.” The news lady made a perturbed expression as she spoke. Five saw in her what he always knew was in him. She had to fein the expression and she couldn’t truly feel the emotion she was trying to convey… she was like him… “I hope, I pray, that these children are found and returned safely to their families and those responsible are brought to justice. Because that’s all we can do as the police investigate the incidents; we can hope.” The feed cut off as the commercials began.

Five unfolded his dark legs from seiza and stood. His face was nearly human. He had all of the features one would expect a human would have but they were just wrong. Slightly off and hard to explain why. Five would have to improve his memory if he wanted to exist in society for longer than a few hours at a time. Especially here where it wasn’t easy to hide. If he wanted to change form, it would be in the open and he would have to come up with clever ways to not be seen, else he would start a panic. He hadn’t had any communication with Father for any of his siblings but he knew that no one wanted a panic.

The cushioned, soundproof, floor had molded around his legs leaving depressions. It slowly began to conform to the rest of the ten by ten space. Five was nearly completely hidden in the room when he turned the television off and stowed it, depriving the room of the only light source.

His face changed again as he tried to remember all of the details of the mother’s face. The one he had kidnapped the boy from a few hours ago. The face that formed was a mess - bits and pieces were from different faces. The eyes didn’t match and the mouth drooped to one side as though he were having a stroke. He knew it would take time to master his own memory.

In the meantime, he was hungry.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

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Tokyo was crowded. Densely packed with people for miles. The island country had lost a third of its landmass to rising sea levels; all the while the same rise caused nearby countries to migrate to Japan. Now there was no way to move without bumping into someone else. No one but the super rich owned homes anymore. The Japanese people had been forced to live in incredibly small apartments. The beds' area were comparable to that of the apartments. Efficiency homes were mansions compared to the closets the men and women of the Land of the Rising Sun were forced to live in.

Number five couldn't help but think it was the Land of the Setting Sun. Especially since he had arrived. And it was he. That's what his Father had called him. The man in the white coat. Five had never been told to call him that, but what else does one call their maker? Though, Five never possessed any defining male characteristics, he trusted that Father knew best. And the red girl who took his and his family's blood had called him by male pronouns as well. They used to call each other family… until it happened. Some of them died and some got hurt. It became mentally easier to refer to each other with their numbers. Five couldn't remember what he was called before they started calling him 'Five'.

"Mom, where are we going?" The small child holding Five's hand asked in the high pitched and nervous voice only a child could convincingly make.

"Home dear. We're going home." Five smiled down at him with his best imitation of affection. He could make his face imitate any impression he could fathom… but Five learned that without what they called a soul, his mimic was imperfect. He held the boy close as they made their way through the crowd. The perpetual crowd. Damnit. Why did the kid have to speak? Reminding Five that he was there and bringing him out of his thoughts. They were the only way! Damned kid... Five smiled at the boy once more but underneath the mask… underneath the stolen face that allowed him to pass in society was a look of longing and desire.

All Five could think of was the succulent juices and the delectable taste of iron as the blood flows over his tongue… The satisfying tear as he removed the boys limbs, one at a time. And of course the screams. The most beautiful music… a symphony of terror.

"Ew! Mom stop that!" The boy wriggled in Five's iron grip. Apparently Five had leaned down and started licking the boy's hand. Passersby had taken two looks at the slightly bizarre sight but then paid it no mind. The boy, all of probably six, had acted in the only way he knew how - trying to free himself, to no avail.

"Sorry sweetie! I just saw some dirt and wanted to clean you up! My big boy!" Five used his other hand to ruffle the boy's hair as they kept squeezing through the crowded streets. Few cars were still in operation due to overpopulation.

"Stop!" The boy was giggling. So happy, so innocent and yet so mistaken.

The urge was growing and they were twenty minutes away from the boat… Five took a deep breath, feeling the warm and humid air fill his lungs. He could do this. He had to do this. Otherwise Father would be upset with him. Father wouldn't want him to expose himself here. A passing man bumped into Five's face with his belly as Five was reaching for the boy's hair. The smell was overwhelming. The aroma of fat and sweat. Sweet smell of blood even with no wound.

He picked the boy up and put him atop Five's shoulder then started to run. Five knew it wasn't illegal to run, perhaps strange, but no one would stop the two. He knew he couldn't make it to the boat, but there was somewhere else he could go. Though, running here was much slower than running without the crowd.

Progress was slow, but people seemed to make way more oft than not for the crazy woman with a giggling child on her shoulders. The boy was having the best of times; screaming in what Five could only describe as delight. How the boy would long for that feeling.

They finally arrived at the apartment. "Where are we? This isn't home…" Five had let the boy off of his shoulders. They were on balcony thirty-seven G. It wasn't much of a balcony at fifteen square feet, the climb to the balcony had taken a few minutes but the boy wasn’t paying attention until now. They were three-hundred and seventy feet above the ground below. The people looked like writhing heap of ants.

"Oops, I forgot. We needed to go to my friend's apartment first!" Five tried to inject a bit of cheerfulness into his voice. It wasn't too convincing. His smile had faltered.
The hunger was getting to him.

The boy looked at his mother's face with concern. Five was jealous of that face, he could never pull it off. "Are you okay? You're acting funny…" The boy reached out for the monster’s hand and grasped it tight with worry.

Oh no… if the boy started calling out for help then Father would surely be upset. That was the last thing Five wanted to happen. He quickly opened the door and shoved the boy in. The door slammed shut as quickly as it had been parted.

Five had been given one of the larger apartments. It was one-hundred square feet, ten by ten. The seating folded away into the wall, making way for the bed or the kitchen. Now it was all folded away leaving a larger than average empty space. The walls, flooring and roof had been fitted with heavy duty soundproofing material. Special consideration had been taken into account with Five so no neighbors would hear his orders from Father. A plastic layer had been placed above the cushioned floor. The boy rumpled it slightly when he was thrown in.

The look on his face was fear as Five's hunger started taking control of his faculties. His mimic began to falter. He could no longer picture the boy's mother and his face started to melt and his skin began to darken. The eyes fell away under the skin, it seemed, and the mouth widened but not in a grin. His ears and hair and distinct features went the way of the eyes.

Throughout the whole transformation the boy couldn't stop screaming. Meanwhile Five had finally relaxed, reverting to his base form always felt like releasing a pressure that would otherwise be unfit for the public. He had been told to hold in his 'gut' was the word they used to describe it. Five wasn't sure if he had a gut but he liked to think that he understood.

The boy's throat had gone dry and his screams stopped. Five took one step toward the boy who instinctively backed himself into a corner. His legs were still trying to back him away even though he'd hit the wall. In a swift motion, Five reached over and seized the boy's arm. More screams.

There was a certain pleasure in the sound. Five couldn't get enough. The smell of the boy’s fear activated the pleasure centers in Five’s brain and without thinking he grew and dragged the boy, screeching and writhing, to the center of the room. The mass of shadow formed all around the boy creating an additional layer of soundproofing. The screams picked up with new fervour when the long and jagged teeth formed. As though some mad magician had entrapped the boy and them began shoving swords into the cage. But this was no act. And all at once, the dark prison slammed shut. Back into Five’s base form.

The boy was a part of him. It took five a few seconds to breathe normally as he moaned in delight. Then he began to sob. He was too quick and didn’t get to savour the kill and the taste… his hunger was sated. For now. But he knew in a few hours he would have to kill again.

All of a sudden, with the advent of his mind and faculties, he realized that he hadn’t made contact with his handler in hours… had it been hours or days? Five wasn’t sure… he just knew that it was four children ago, including his most recent victim…

A Splintered Realm. (GOT AU)

@Spambot We're still open. There's one person who I'm still waiting on but other than that it looks like we might start in the next few days, minimum. Feel free to make a character.

A Splintered Realm. (GOT AU)

@NecroKnight Accepted. I'll add him to the CS tab in a bit.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

No rush. I'll be around.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

Blonde is just a word. It can mean anything contextually. For instance: Blonde you! If you assigned it any particular meaning there, that's on you.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@Haruharara Do you mind if I switch mimic's physical age to "undetermined"?

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

So it just occurred to me (because it occurred to everyone else xD). I guess mimic shouldn't have a "physical age" should they?

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

Mimic

#5

Mimic

• P h y s i c a l A g e •
Undetermined

• G e n d e r I d e n t i f i e r •
Male

• D e s i g n a t e d L o c a t i o n •
Japan

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• P s y c h P r o f i l e •
+ Confident + Optimist + Loyal
- Impulsive - Cruel - Feral
* Learn Everything * Feast * Understand Himself

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• U n i q u e T r a i t s & A b i l i t i e s •
Copy | Number five is a blank slate. Humanoid but definitely not human. Male is the closest thing to what they are. In their blank slate form they are a black humanoid with or without a mouth and eyes. When they see something they can change into that something and mimic everything about it. They can morph a portion or all of their body. Their blank form is difficult to damage because they can morph around most attacks. Fire, however, will still burn and water will still drown.

*As a note, they are limited by how much material they have in their body. If they morph part of themself into a machine gun and start firing then their mass will rapidly, and linearly, go down. This is part of what drives their hunger. As they eat, they can densely pack the new material into their body, not gaining volume but gaining mass.

Aside from Mimic’s miracle, they require an order to do stuff. They have a mind but have had most of their free will removed. Mimic does, however, take creative liberties in the interpretations of directions.

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A p p e t i t e L v l :: 5