Stars Fall | Acrylicat Storyline Development

Refuge | Oneshot

(big boi gore warning)

Stella wiped her claws on a patch of relatively clean grass and licked a warm splat of metallic blood off her muzzle, observing the remains of the forever unknown 'cryli slumped before her with malicious satisfaction.

"So sorry;" she purred. "My claw slipped."

A stupid acrylicat they must have been indeed, considering the citizens of Harmonx must have realized by now that an unusual number of 'crylis had disappeared in this grove in recent weeks. Another acrylicat might be worried about her hiding spot being discovered- but Stella was confident that she could take any search party or detective force they sent her way. After all, she knew these woods well.

She turned her attention back to her most recent crime; twitching her nose dispassionately at the mess of intestines, internals and gore spilling from her victim's stomach, rather like a stuffed toy who's seam has split down the middle and oozes stuffing. 

"Ugh."

It had been great fun in the moment, but couldn't she have chosen a cleaner way to kill the intruder? 

Ah well. At least she had enjoyed it.

It would probably be easiest to burn the body on the spot, of course- simple, and the remaining evidence would be significantly less in quantity and smelliness. However, it would be imprudent of her to so blatantly flaunt her location by way of the smoke.

Grimacing unpleasantly, she began to roll the body towards the nearby river, trailing spilt organs and paint and blood like a macabre red carpet. It was an utter mess, but she had to be thankful the body wasn't as shredded as that of her previous victim. She had been having a bad day when she encountered them and had been more than happy to relieve her stress perhaps a little too extravagantly.

She pushed the half-emptied body, now rather muddy and as floppy as a rag doll, down the creek bank and it splashed into the rushing water, rapidly dragged under by the brisk current. A shoddy job, perhaps, but Stella really couldn't be bothered to hide her tracks any better today. Let them find her; she wouldn't go down without taking them all with her first.

Following her gory path back to her hideout; she encountered the victim's heart lying in a gout of thick, clotting blood. It was as motionless as a stone, or a turnip- there was no life left in it. She picked it up and stared at it for a moment; crushing the vital organ in her grip and watching the blood dribble down her forearm. She ground it into the grass, blood spurting from its severed veins, and continued on to her home.

The warehouse was hidden well; the forest had tried in vain to erase its existence from this wild place. Ivy and creepers choked the walls and a few trees, who as seeds must have fallen through the broken windows; reached gnarled limbs out from the building's hollow, yawning depths and into the sunlight. Moss, dead leaves, and saffron pine needles clotted the corrugated metal roof; now a patchwork of rust.

Stella entered through the maw of the building, where tall doors must once have stood- they had vanished without a trace, as far as she could tell, swallowed by the grove. She opened her narrow, pointed wings, stained red from trailing in the grass, and with a single flap mounted the catwalk above the wreckage below; toppled machinery who's purpose she'd never cared to learn. 

The catwalk ran around the building and met in the middle as a platform; a sort of plus sign surrounded by a rectangle. The platform was where she had set up camp, breaking away a particularly eroded chunk of roof so she could light small fires and draping her few belongings over the flimsy metal railing.

The place was far too dirty and utilitarian for her taste, but it came with a sense of comfort- she had taken refuge in this place ever since she was a kitten pretending she was a bandit. Sometimes even Kami had joined in ...

She growled, banishing the thought from her head.

It was best not to think of him.

She settled on the platform like a wary, perching owl and stared out the broken windows as twilight turned to pitch.

Alone, a watchful predator in the night, she remained there for a long time before curling up with pointed poise and falling asleep.