#animaldeathmention

[ragnarot]

so , @godthread & i were talking while he read round 4 . i never exactly thought of this too deeply myself , but seeing as he writes hades , looking at heracles summoning cerberus from a hades' perspective , i understand now . while heracles' powers draw on his twelve labors , it's ... interesting how he ACTUALLY summons cerberus , quite literally , from an interdimensional portal . cerberus then consumes parts of heracles , body and soul . and they thusly fuse into one being , parts of cerberus either becoming mixed with flesh , or heracles becoming more beastlike . bones , jaws , teeth , eyes , sticking out .

thunder saw this as a literal summoning , and i have to agree . i had thought , perhaps , it was heracles borrowing the essence of cerberus , but having it be literal makes more sense , and also implies ... something far worse . upon the cerberus-fused heracles defeat & death at the hands of jack , this leaves the gates of the underworld unguarded . thunder said that there is nothing left to keep the souls of the dead inside the underworld , let alone out , as well .

heracles dies with cerberus still fused within him ( noted by the bones sticking out , the sharp claws , etc ) . jack doesn't just kill one divine being with his victory , jack technically kills two . not only is it ... heracles more or less stealing hades' pet & guard dog ( however that might've worked in regards to the labors harnessing powers ) , but jack delivered a killing strike towards hades' own hound . yikes . talk about an awful bout for hades to witness .

congrats , everyone , now the dead are going to walk the mortal realm ( at least , those belonging to the grecian pantheon , i presume , we'll see ) .

[coridallasmultipass]

Smile! (Motaro, L7) 😈😬🦗🙏 Love that funky little scorpion pose. (And he's actually "smiling" [cough-baring his fangs-cough] too.) He got mad because I turned my hand and him upside down to look him over more. The pic with the fly - he fucking missed. I held him up to the fly like 4 times and he struck 2 times and didn't get it lol. 🙏🙏🙏🙏 On a sadder note - TW PET ANIMAL DEATH - Her Highness Miss Tiny, Sheeva, died yesterday. She was sick the day before, too. I woke up and saw she had thrown up a lot (she had only eaten about a quarter of the worm I gave her on Tuesday/4 days ago). So I separated her, cleaned the whole tank, made sure she had plenty of dry fresh air, and offered a bunch of the flightless fruit flies. (I knew I'd need them!) She did catch and eat a few of them, so I was relieved she still had an appetite, and held out hope she would get better, but yesterday... She was just so lethargic and couldn't even eat the smushed fruit flies I put up to her mouth. She could only move her arms, and it was only to swat the live fruit flies away. I really tried to help feed her and prop her up, but she needed to rest. I just buried her here at my aunt's house, and it really fucking sucks having to do this. She just had a healthy shed a week prior. I don't even know what I did wrong besides be a little late for feeding! Motaro and Goro are both healthy right now! (Goro just shed to L7 yesterday!) I know Sheeva was probably a runt, but she has survived this long without any issues besides a late first shed. So maybe it was my fault. I fucking hate dealing with grief. I can't fucking do this. Not even about Sheeva, I'm still struggling with different grief from a few years ago. Anyway. Hopefully Motaro and Goro at least make it to full adulthood. Out of the four mantises I kept, these guys were the biggest and baddest of the Bigge Bois, so they were the most likely to thrive to adulthood. 🦗🦗🦗🦗 #prayingmantis #preyingmantis #chinesemantis #tenoderasinensis #mantis #mantises #mantids #insect #bug #insects #bugs #insectpet #insectkeeping #bugkeeping #mantidsofinstagram #pet #pets #petstagram #animaldeathmention https://www.instagram.com/p/CRKVMqAs4KT/?utm_medium=tumblr

[biskael]

because some of the oldest and best tools for certain trades (see: leather working, book binding, etc) are made of bone, does Quilge keep bones and make things out of them :?

to give this a rather short & quick answer , yes ! he does ! however , quilge's crafts don't lean into being morbid art projects . he makes more practical things with the bones . not that this is any type of passion he wishes he would rather be doing instead , no . it's just something he's picked up . i have stated in the past that quilge possessed a bunch of smaller skills . compound his age , the breadth of his knowledge overall & how his schrift isn't exactly primed to kill outright , i do think quilge has developed a number of other skills , too . being a hunter also requires immense patience . he's spent a lot of time ... on his own , save for the corpses of what he's killed . field dressing them . and when he's finished , what will he do with the other parts ? sometimes he eats them . he takes the hides & pelts , of course . so i can see quilge taking the bones & using them for something .

one reason why he keeps them is decoration ! he likes to decorate his ancestral jagdschloss , as well as parts of his personal chambers in silbern with the occasional little animal skull . not too many though , just a few of them . he does do taxidermy , on occasion . it depends on what he killed .

for specific tools , i cannot outright name any off the top of my head ! but quilge WOULD use them .

[biskael]

“Don’t lay a finger on my deer! I will constrict you till death comes for you!”

@sung56sun | | random asks | |

     “ OH , A NOBLE ONE !   you truly care for your little friend , don’t you ? ”   a mirthful laugh , soft . meaning it in every way to demean her threat . she didn’t scare him , not in the slightest . he’d stared down grander beasts before & would do so again . quilge loomed over the arrancar and shot her a sadistic glance .   “ hmmm . i wonder if she feels the same way about you . if she would risk her life for your freedom .   ach , schade !   ------ now , that’s enough of your hissing . back inside you go . ”  

     quickly , he grabbed her by the uniform , twisted her around in his cruel grip  . his sword’s sharpened edge at cyan’s back . facing her toward the widened , brightened gap that was The Jail . humming, flickering cages . weaved from the fragments of souls .   “ i skin snakes , ”   quilge said simply .   “ and i gut deer .  let that serve as a reminder for you while you’re in there . do make yourself comfortable , arrancar , in the meantime .  ”

[biskael]

i can't understate how much quilge loves killing . he does love torture & torment , but he is also a hunter , and hunters kill . it is something so deeply engrained into him . first a hunter , then a butcher , then a jailer lastly . his father was a hunter before he became knighted . quilge was taught how to kill animals from a very early age . how to skin them , clean their bodies out of innards . rabbits , snakes , fish . then fowl , foxes , deer . then bigger , more dangerous prey , like wolves or even bears . and hollows . many hollows . he wanted to travel the world & hunt other animals , too . the tales of new countries filled with other species excited him . he wanted to see them , so he could simply kill them . if it could be shot and it bled , then he could track it and kill it . who knows exactly when his first human kill was . maybe it was his siblings , maybe not . but he doesn't miss them at all . they were getting in his way of immortality , anyway . because , after all , if it could be shot and it bled , then he could track it and kill it . and humans were far more a rewarding hunt than any wild beast .

[biskael]

@keikakudori​

     RUN AND FOLLOW . Over fallen tree, atop forest floor. HIDE AND SEEK . Silent as the grave as the bow’s strung. No breath caught upon the wind. No words. BAIT AND TRAP . Call the flaming, holy arrows as the metal jaw snaps shut, iron teeth tasting blood. A deadly pierce reaching forth in reflecting eyes , frozen in pain . Struck with a brilliant light, intense and hot as it burned through flesh. A pulse, slashed apart. Purified in blessed death. Dominance over all prey. A corpse slung over his shoulders. How he’d carry it back & hang it up. Whet the knives against the stone. Carrion to carve, meat to clean. And those are the ones he kills, the ones he guts ( YOU WILL GIVE ME STRENGTH FOR THE NEXT HUNT. THANK YOU KINDLY . ) Not the ones he keeps for himself. Drags them from their homes kicking and screaming. Beasts deemed worthy to hunt alongside him were few and far in-between. A rarity. The ones he takes his time with , keeps an eye trained on. Demands their submission if they’re unruly. Would bloody his hands over it , for they should be loyal hounds laying near his heels . And how sweet they are when they’re tamed . ( I HAVE SAVED YOU FROM A FAR WORSE FATE. THANK ME KINDLY . )

     That was usually how things went. A proper hunt under his command. Used to his steel cutting deep into marrow. Seeking hearts between the ribs with a knife’s thrust. Skewering flesh. Those who answered to him taking no pause and giving no quarter. And what he did not already rule, he would tame, for he has gazed into the feral stares of his enemies time & again, sabre splitting vein to vein. And what he didn’t kill, he captured. Howling, screaming things in need of discipline. But this was different. The other’s word’s carried with them their own weight. But also, he could hear the temperament. Rage as a storm roiling, quiet, on the horizon’s deep. The unknown within the tempest-tossed scour. Something that would mar the world and leave it worse.

     How Quilge wanted to wring out some fleeting notion of impermanence within them all, perhaps. Old empires always fell & new ones took their place. The statues crumbled, turned to dust. Not a name on the tongue. That the Almighty was the only, the truth eternal. One to outlive them all, time upon time, and they were just footnotes in His scripture. Angels tangled in the illumination of grand, gilded pages. That whatever beast or man or god stepped before Him would be torn asunder. And in that notion, there was a slight reassurance.

     Even in eye of such vast intensity, power whirling & crackling with life, the Quincy remained undeterred. And yet, he would provoke him no further, and there was some small shred of respect to be found within that. He grinned, shrugged his broad shoulders, stifled a half-hearted laugh.

     “My, my. Look at you, so angry. And with good reason, I suppose. I wasn’t very kind, was I? My ... apologies.”   Quilge hid a snide gaze behind his hat’s brim , the scarlet of his glasses. It’s a feign that wounds him. An admittance he’d rather choke on than admit again. But he can’t allow himself to be so gravely hurt, or worse. Knowing himself a loyal pawn in this game, how shameful it would be to be killed before first blood.   “I doubt you could forgive my earlier rudeness. But I’ve always considered myself a rather sporting man. Perhaps I should be thanking you.”

     He craved battle. The taste of iron in-between his teeth, and fury in his veins. To watch & listen from on far, pick what he wanted. And this, cold eyes locked on, holding, would be a grave mistake.  

     “For you have given me such wonderful hunting grounds.”