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[conspecifics]

@dogboy*

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open season.

OPEN SEASON

@dogboy
24 / m / straight / 2♠️*

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

His name is Kirma and he’s illiterate. I’m helping him fill this out, but honestly speaking, it’s a complete waste. Besides that, don’t you think his rank is unfairly high? Even though it’s still in the single digits, it’s not as if he wouldn’t be at home in the basement levels. If someone could send my complaints along to the house, I’d appreciate it.

My Future Plans

Surviving?

My Talents

Chasing sticks. Eating absurd quantities of garbage. Fouling up perfectly nice beds. Trampling flowers.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Meat.

My Ideal Partner

Someone skilled at training dogs.

Height 169cm / ~5’7 Body Type fine Smokes apparently Drinks i think so Drugs maybe Sign ? Education laughable Occupation unemployed Income unpaid Children none? Pets he is one Hobbies cooking

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

“WHAT'S A MIME”

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

NEITHER

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE

.05 TITS OR ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISFP-A

ENERGY

73%

introverted

MIND

76%

observant

NATURE

66%

feeling

TACTICS

54%

prospecting

IDENTITY

75%

assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[conspecifics]

( this part is incredulous: ) That's what this is about?

( it's unexpected, so much that it immediately takes the wind out of his sails, his face scrunching up in the realization. there's a long and thoughtful pause, and when he speaks again, his voice lacks any of the strain or heat from the moment before. )

Well, I do.

( love him. yeah. that's the easy part. with the rest, he can only be thankful there's no video, to give away how troublesome the rest of it is. there's an obvious answer— this place is changing us— but he can already hear the derision for such an excuse, and in the end, if he's happy to let the house guide him as it pleases, is he not still as culpable? (oh. the ranks, their increases, it makes some sense now.) faced with the sudden surfacing of a great discomfort, the only reasonable thing to do is:

to turn into even more of a bitter bitch about it. obviously. )

You're tired of it, but here you are. Meddling and lecturing, saint that you are. All the hardships and injustices that you alone have felt, and none other that you meet here, for we are all as naive as we are stupid. ( the dryness in his voice might just hint at sarcasm. ) If you're going to involve yourself in his business, get the answers from him. And if he says he doesn't know— he's lying to save face.

[skinstitch]

( a sigh. ) Why do you think I'm here in the first place?

Kidnapping. Chained to a bed. Three days. And your mousy little pet scarred him for something he asked for in the first place?

I'm no saint, and I don't care what you think about me. I'm selfish and I only think about myself. Stay away from him.

[conspecifics]

That's the what. Not the why.

( and while there's already a lot he could argue with from that presentation... he wonders if it even matters. )

If you believe that's all there is to it— fine. Don't ask. Do and think what you want. But don't message me as if the answer makes a difference, either.

[skinstitch]

Just tell me your version then. Tell me the why, since you're so much better than the both of us.

[conspecifics]

Do you think three days compares to eight lives?

[skinstitch]

He kidnapped you for eight lives?

[conspecifics]

Nine— but the first death was inevitable, with or without him. Or do you think I'm capable of dragging myself out of the grave on a whim?

[skinstitch]

I think I don't understand anything that you're saying. He locked you up against your will for nine lives, for what. For fun?

[conspecifics]

Not so literally.

( this is why he doesn't want to get into things as a general rule. he sucks shit at explanations. )

Meeting someone is a coincidence. Living the same life over and over until you meet that someone is not. ( surely that makes sense, conceptually... ) And it certainly wasn't love, on his part.

[skinstitch]

( it doesn't make sense, but it doesn't matter. he's not a part of whatever this is, so it's unlikely that anything would make sense. )

You say you love him and you hurt him all the time. If that works for you, then why can't it mean the same thing back?

[conspecifics]

That's the difference, isn't it? I said it.

( his turn to sigh. )

If your curiosity is satisfied, then I think we've said enough.

[skinstitch]

Always have to do it your way.

( he doesn't sound satisfied, but he ends the connection--clearly he's been dismissed. )

https://i.imgur.com/SVM9G7z.png

[waged]

( ideally, aventurine would have ventured forth entirely by himself, as he's wont to do when he would rather - keep people safe entirely, either from actual danger or himself. but figures, due to past... incidents... that kirma wouldn't want him to be alone, especially not all the way down to the maintenance levels where aventurine had heard word-of-mouth that something unusual had been happening there lately.

he had only then agreed because if nothing else, the preservation would keep him safe.

sure enough, the closer they become of even the basement floor, there's whispers travelling through the halls that he knows hadn't been there before. beckoning them to come closer, a siren call built on the curiosity of humans, the desire to know. even aventurine himself might fall victim to it, though reckless with his life as he's known to be, at least he would be sure to always have a back-up plan. this here is no exception either, lest he endangers a life never meant to be hurt.

he makes sure kirma is always within his sight, the louder the voices get, the closer they are to their source. it leads down many hallways until there's an unusual light, a door open, and when aventurine peeks to see what lies inside, there's - not much of anything. the voices are the most eager they have been, however, to lead them inside. )

Well. I will say, I've never seen a trap more obvious.

( and again, ideally, he would walk in by himself, moved by curiosity and faith in his luck, that he could come out of it alive. but this far along, when they had promised to walk together... aventurine crosses his arms, and looks at kirma. he's no longer alone in his decisions. )

What do you want to do?

"i'm not blaming her i just think everything is her fault"

[conspecifics]

( the pain of d*ting somebody who likes you, eh— not allowed to charge off into danger alone, stuck with a dog tailing your heels even as he gets increasingly nervous the further down into the resort you go. for someone who has been sensitive to whispers and presences even outside of such a woefully haunted place, the intensity of it in the basement levels means his fur hasn't stopped prickling, his paws constantly clipping against aventurine's heels as they go. whatever commentary he's been provided on this journey has been distinctly unhelpful, half-muttered superstitions and the occasional nervous growl.

and even with all of that—

this is the only place in the entirety of golden peacock that he'd want to be, right now. funny how that works. )

Is there really anything else to do but go in?

( if they've come this far, that is. still, there's hesitation in his stance and voice, the way he pulls back from his hovering to fold his arms and genuinely give some consideration to where they are. turning back is likely the smartest move; aventurine's assessment of things is hardly off the mark. his head tilts back as he mulls it over. )

I assume— it would separate us if we could. If we enter, it should be simultaneous.

[waged]

( what's funny is that this exactly is what aventurine had wanted to avoid, not very long ago at all. involving another in his reckless missions, dangerous all around and without the reassurance of a safe escape, because aventurine is a gambling man through and through, and this, here, is a bet as well. never that he would want to involve another in his crazed gambles, but - maybe he can trust, instead, in his own abilities. in the preservation he sought after in order to keep those he loves safe.

... maybe he ought to consider getting his cornerstone back, after this. )

Together, then. ( and he holds his hand out for kirma to take.

it would be easier for him like this, to make sure his imaginary shields extend to him, if anything happens the moment they walk into the room. but even as they do, aventurine always careful in his steps - and always the first one to be in, just in case, putting his life on the line whether directly or indirectly -, nothing much happens just quite yet.

it's a boring ass room, all things considered. but aventurine doesn't let go of his hold on kirma's hand, not for a moment letting his guard down. )

If they wanted us to play cards, they could at least have offered a deck. ( what are they to do, with an empty card table??? ) Do you feel anything?

[conspecifics]

… Just a bit stuffy.

( the bad feeling he has likely goes without saying, given that his tail was already doing its best porcupine impression long before they stepped inside. still, there really is nothing of note, is there— a rare moment of bravery has him tugging at aventurine’s hand as he tries to move closer to the table, to inspect the table. perhaps there are secrets within it, something hidden. he lays his other hand flat on the top of it, then turns his wrist to knock along it with his knuckles instead, ear cocked as it listens for any change in density.

well, it’s a card table.

he looks back then, just in time to see the door swinging shut behind them. kirma jerks forward as if to catch it, but almost immediately stops. the reaction comes far too late, he knows. that energy diverts towards squeezing aventurine’s hand tight in a grip that borders on painful. )

Wasn’t there something written, on the outside? ( a bit stupid to think of now, inside the room. a little late. but so it goes, when you can’t read; you really get in the habit of dismissing what words you do run across. he frowns, squints, not fully registering that the receding light is what’s slowly making it more difficult to see. ) There’s nothing like that on this, right?

[waged]

( outside? aside from the exciting label of this being nothing less than a punishment room, he doesn't think so, no, and that's nothing he really wants to tell kirma. nothing he would want to worry him about, even if he knows he'd rather know than not. there's just more important things to pay attention to at the moment, at least, the gradual dim of the light above, the way he really might just break kirma's hand, with how hard he's squeezing it. it seems wholly counterintuitive for the house to truly and well just kill them without reason or purpose, so this, aventurine assumes, must be something else. and whatever it actually is, he would make sure to keep kirma safe through it, or die trying.

the irony lies in that he's the one who might just need to be kept safe.



it starts with the drizzling sound of pouring rain, before the scenery around them changes into something much wider than a tiny room with a card table. the sky above is a particular dark that turns night into something grim, and the air is a rare cold not seen in these parts. it's a moving scene through cliffs and mountains, uneven ground and sand. and though they aren't quite running, they are certainly being taken somewhere, by their connected hands. kirma's to aventurine's, and aventurine's to —

from behind, aventurine can recognize her well. he knows who this is, who this weird mirage is supposed to be, but he denies it all entirely. his hand hurts from the grip, and he hasn't quite realized he had bit through the skin of his lips. he knows what this is, because he remembers it. it's only when they finally stop that aventurine realizes he, too, had been running again.

then she turns, letting go of their connected hands, and aventurine almost reaches for it again, desperate, forgetting entirely that this is not a place where he's supposed to be. it's not so perfect of a memory, he can tell as much, because she doesn't kneel, like he remembers. it's worse, because she acknowledges how tall she has grown, and though her arms reach for aventurine's shoulders the same way she had so long ago, she's looking up, this time. with eyes much like his.

none of this should be real, because his sister has long been— )

This is where we go our own way, Kakavasha. The Katicans are coming.

I— That's not—

Why? The Katicans have already taken █████ ███ killed our parents ██ █████ █ do they want?

( it's a bizarre feeling, listening to his voice- to kakavasha's voice coming from him, when he does not speak any of it at all. it's only then that he remembers he's not alone in this, that this is definitely, surely, most positively not real, and it's with a decent amount of struggle, looking away from someone he has missed so dearly that aventurine turns his eyes to kirma, again. his anchor down, to reality. )

... We shouldn't be here. ( he doesn't want to be here. )

✨ aventurine's gifts corner ✨

[waged]

( because now that aventurine has money again he's going to shower kirma in gifts and i think it's cute to keep track of these. everyone else please look away thank you )

[waged]

> "Aventurine Healing Stone Bracelet"

he's not going to say it's aventurine stones if kirma doesn't ask 👍 but he'll say it's for good luck :)

[waged]

> "Solid Flat Greek Key Link Bracelet"

obnoxious ass name it's just a gold bracelet. bought solely because he thinks it'd look good on kirma. 😌

[conspecifics]

( where are they going?

it takes longer than it should, for the question to register, so seamless is the transition. kirma’s paws slip against wet sand, the desperation threaded through their clenched hands the only thing that keeps him upright. with his gaze focused on the ground and his footing, he only thinks to look up when he hears a voice he doesn’t recognize; there he realizes they aren’t alone. worse than any regular company, the resemblances between the stranger and kakavasha are easy to place, if the soft and fond resignation in her voice didn’t say enough on its own. as they speak, kirma looks to the sky, as though to give them privacy. the universe may be vast, unknowable and infinite, yet— he blinks as the raindrops hit his face, and finds he can say this much— the rain is a miserable thing everywhere.

aventurine’s voice is what brings him back. he hesitates, but for once, he cannot help but ask: )

Where… is here?

( another breath of a pause, and his free hand lightly touches aventurine’s upper arm. the physical touch is enough to prove they’re both still real. while so too do their joined hands— at the same time, it feels as though his fingers have gone numb, perhaps from the same dread anticipation that crawls up his spine. )

And where is there to go? ( why didn’t you tell your dog this was a punishment room, man. )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClDU6YPGlS4

[waged]

( right... right. kirma doesn't know. why would he? it's not like aventurine ever really talks much about himself, or his past, or anything that really has to do with him. the rain is so loud on his ears that he can't even weigh his options here, whether he should tell him everything or nothing at all. and amidst all of it, worse yet - katicans are bloodthirsty, cruel, and insatiably greedy. they want everything, only to end up with nothing. - that endless memory keeps on playing, with no care or mind whether all the participants are playing along.

aventurine opens his mouth, hesitates, and - ) ... Sigonia. ( This is a trick, an act of revenge. Remember? Today is the day of the Kakava, and also your birthday. he shuts his eyes for a moment, opens them again, and looks away. out of all the memories he has, why this one? ) It's where I was born. My home planet.

( and that excruciatingly familiar voice keeps on speaking - Little do the Katicans know, this time we will fight back! The men in black that descend from the skies are on our side. such unbearable cacophony is hard to tune out, but he tries nonetheless, steels himself against emotions that have no place nor room here. somewhere to go. what's there, to do in a dreadful place like this, in such a day? the rain is as cold on his clothes as that very day, and there is, he knows, only one way to go.

he pulls kirma along, sudden as he picks up his pace elsewhere, on a familiar direction, away from his sister, but - This is a gift from Gaiathra, and you are Kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success. )

But... but people ████ die, ███ you ████ ██ in danger... How is that good fortune? Why ███ ███ ███ doing this...

( he comes to a slow stop, eventually, defeated in his attempted at running away - again. hadn't it been the same, this same day? Gaiathra calls for me, while Papa and Mama are waiting for me. even though he was supposed to run from it, away past the mountains as she had asked of him - But SHE will bless you with good fortune and help you survive.

his eyes find kirma's, and even through the dark night and pouring rain, the pain in them is too easy to see. )

This is one of my memories. ( if that hadn't been obvious, and aventurine almost nearly wishes it had just been an ill-fitting fabrication meant to torment him. ) It's the day my sister, and all of the Avgin, died. ( quieter, then, as though ashamed, words surely coated in something ever so similar to regret, he looks away. ) Except for me.

( As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry. So run, Kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back. )

un: meltokiho

[luxuriant]

Hey, uhhhh... Quick question. About the painting stuff.

Has your face ever been a little more... wolfy?

[conspecifics]

( that's racist? )

I'm not one of those. Where wolfs.
If that's what you're asking.

[luxuriant]

What wolfs.

No, no, I mean like... You know, maybe at one point you had two snouts. Like dog noses. Pointing in opposite directions. Sound familiar? Maybe he's a family member. An estranged uncle?