#🐺 Gnawing Hunger - IC 🐺

[chemicalmongrel]

In the dank alleys of a dim city where the air became a heavy molasses that sat in your lungs with an oily consistency, there was a busy intersection where merchants, factory workers and the more daring of Piltover's elite came to rub shoulders with each other. Cogs passed from hand to hand. Words and conversation flowed unbidden. Chempunks lurking at the margins, looking for easy marks. Gutter snipes making deliveries hither and thither. And well-heeled men and women with the auspices of barons enjoyed the security of chem-brutes, bristling with augmentations and vials of shimmer. The undercurrent of danger was the spice that lured people in. What convinced people to look the other way. To ignore the way people's throats strained against the metal of esophiltres. Or how snipes scampered up rickety pipes to get their deliveries done quicker than any adult, gaunt in stature and sallow cheeked. But their willful ignorance made it all the easier for one facet of the twin cities to stalk the shadows.

From the rooftops, tucked under a series of leaky pipes, Zaun's predator watched with mucus-flooded eyes. Its ears were slicked back, laid flat against its head. Fur smoothed out and muzzle drooping with the tips of its canines peeking out from its lips. And yet it kept aprised of all the goings-on proceeding tens of feet below. Already it smelt the stink of iron and copper. That bitter tang that clung to the back of your throat, weeping from your sinuses. Zaun's true currency peeking through the glimmer of cogs. But the scent it trailed was not one of an overzealous pack of chem-thugs or an illusive baron and the broken boulevard they left in their wake. Rather, it was one of paint and gunpowder. Something familiar and nostalgic yet painful and taxing to focus on. But no matter how much it hurt or how hard it became to keep focused on it, the man would not relent. There was something in it, something important. Something he forgot. Something drowned by the beast and its hunt. All he needed was to find the end to the trail, see where it led, and then he would sink back into the dark.

// Starter for @misstantabismuses!

#🐺 Caught the Scent - RP 🐺 #🐺 chemical smog verse 🐺 #🐺 gnawing hunger - ic 🐺 #🔫 misstantabismuses 🔫 #🔫 Let me Forget... - Jinx 🔫 #🐺 the beast - warwick 🐺

[chemicalmongrel]

"Happy Shurima?"

#🐺 gnawing hunger ic 🐺 #🐺 Rumors at the Market - Dash Commentary 🐺 #(( Why are people saying happy shurima

[chemicalmongrel]

Missing to Found

Starter for @arcanescion!

It began in the teary mist of early morning with the sun cresting over the silvered rooftops of Piltovan estates, and long shadows cast across Zaunite spiretops that reached defiantly toward the sky. Dark clouds straddled the horizon. And the chill of autumn's passing rolled over the twin cities, a zephyr with the promise of a storm sown into its seams. Scones and fresh coffee wafted from the thoroughfares with the well-heeled. Pastries, spices and so much more. But the allure of hardier foods and the lingering sting of alcohol from late-night pubbing in the Boundary Markets mingled in with the finer things. Trademark of the other half of the illustrious City of Progress. Altogether an experience one could only partake in if they immersed themselves in the Promenade. In both Zaun and Piltover--as it was meant to be. Steeped in this pleasant quiet, a rare moment when the world forgot who was at whose throat, was when a sump-scraper found his way into Caitlyn's investigation bureau. One swollen from the rampant augmentation required to just survive so far down into the trench and covered in no few articles of clothing to hide that unsightly fact. Their presence was an immediate shift in the atmosphere. All nervousness and anxiety wrapped up in the smell of rusted metal and the acrid pungence of cleaning supplies. Something that clung to the ruffles of their tatter clothing. Beady blue eyes peered out from beneath the shadow of their hood, thrown up over a bundle of gauze that squeezed their neck, the eso-philtre causing it to bulge out and up over their mouth. They took a moment to look around, trying to find something, before settling on waiting off to the side. Somewhere they would not bother others. But if looked for would be obvious at a first glance, all while trying to pull themselves further into their own overabundance of clothing. Waiting, as people of their ilk always did.

#🐺 caught the scent rp 🐺 #🐺 chemical smog verse 🐺 #🐺 gnawing hunger ic 🐺 #👮 arcanescion 👮 #👮 Never One of Us - Caitlyn 👮 #🐺 the beast warwick 🐺

[chemicalmongrel]

Anon bursts into a million petals upon being struck, heartbreaking at the sight of the wolf-man’s utter anguish. it was not her place - nor within her power - to speak his truth - any truth - into being. as much as it hurt, his peace would come in due time. All would be made right. it had to. (thanks again for humouring me! you’re a fantastic writer ✨🌻✨)

Pink and blue! Find them! FIND THEM!! Shingles and stone and metal quaked beneath the fervent stride of inhuman limbs, claws RENDING through it all like paper. Caustic ooze trailed behind a blurred, furred projectile and ate through fabric and stone alike. GRINDING teeth and RAGGED breathing vied for dominance over the sharp whistle of air whipping past a colossal frame. And yet those who heard, who witnessed the MONSTER race across smog-choked rooftops, ploughed into brazen pipes and careened through winding alleyways could do nought. Howler. A haunting word to die upon chapped lips. And with it, a silent prayer offered to statuesque bluebirds--let not the chimeric nightmare discover them. How apt an epithet for the BEAST. It loosed a HOWL and shook the very city with its fury!

Razor claws scrapped across the shingles of rooves, CRACKING clay and GOUGING metal alike. A fork and knife against polished porcelain. Acrid bitter pennies fill its mouth as it scrabbles across rooftops, burnt copper and the stench of the unwashed masses in its nostrils. Thoroughfares where the clinking of cogs and deafening foot traffic threaten to spill out into toxic puddle-strewn tributaries. Chemtech and metal prosthetics chafe its ears worse than anything else--they REEK of blood, of suffering! And the liquid FIRE coursing through its veins boiled its skin! WHERE ARE THEY! He needed to find pink and blue, nothing else mattered! Women SHRIEK and men HOLLER out to one another as ankle-high snipes and sump-sucking RATS scatter. The darkness cannot hide the incandescent glow of burning coal, cannot muffle the scrapping of glass against metal and heavy impacts of a living NIGHTMARE. There was nothing left to save, nothing but prey in a city of PAIN and HATE! The man has never SCREAMED so loud! FIND THEM FIND THEM FIND THEM FIND THEM FIND THEM FIND THEM FIND THEM FI- Stop screaming!

Metal screeches and a colossal weight dent a building's backside, jarring the beast for a moment. A divot has been left in one of several buildings forming a thin funnel of an alley. It stunk worse than the sumps. Salted brine mingled with caustic chemicals, overapplied cheap cologne and oily, unkempt hair. Yet everything paled compared to the group of chem-punks loitering in the sharp corner delineating the end of the alley's straightaway. Oil and fumes and stale alcohol. Rusted joints and corroded limbs. Wispy puffs of technicolor smog drift from modified exo-filters hanging from their necks. Stale shimmerwine stained breath. They threw bewildered looks down the alley before the beast rattled the dingy backstreet with its RAGE! Blades glinting in the light and sludge-filled sidearms are pulled in a scrambled hurry, drawn toward the rampaging BULL stampeding toward them. Hiccuping burps belch from the pilfered firearms in a humid staccato, each streaking across metal and mortar with their aim to burn holes through chimeric hide. Less than half of which struck true. Fewer still managed to peel away flesh and eat into the bulging muscle composing the MONSTER'S frame. All of them, however, brought MURDER in its heart. The CHAMBER drove HATE into its veins! Bone and sinew BUCKLED while its GAUNTLETS and TUBES blistered its skin. It drove forward at a fevered pace, SCATTERING the runts with an impact they were too inebriated to react to. Were they screaming before the sickening impact of pulverized bones and ruptured organs? Had they tried scrambling out of the way when it was obvious they were glaring down the business end of a runaway train? DOESN'T MATTER! BLADES, TEETH, and CRIMSON paint the world in mono hues while a symphony of AGONY and fear filters the world through Chiroptera ears. They beg and beg while footfalls echo from the side. Cowards run! Cowards hide! They'd die SCREAMING like the rest! The BEAST felt something push against its snapping jaws, kick at its stomach and whinge with the scrape of a ruptured lung. It reared back, DUG its claws into the chest, and SLAMMED the soon-to-be cadaver into the wall. Again and again! Until PULP was all that remained! Metal creaked and groaned until something gave way. And with a cacophonous SCREECH, the wall tore like an ulcer through stomach lining. Then the BEAST stood partway in an empty warehouse sitting near the waterfront. An open floorplan made dark from past tragedies. Scorched earth. A vacant lot. Pink and blue nowhere to be found. The pain throbbed and beat against the BEAST'S temples. There was nothing here to find, nothing but jumbled memories screaming in the dark of a dimmed mind. Voices fading away into the wind. Muddied by the distant holler of overgrown sump rats skittering away from their predator.

Nothing left--the world had moved beyond him. The man sunk back into the dark.

#🐺 warning :: possible triggers within 🐺 #🐺 disturbing imagery 🐺 #🐺 graphic descriptions 🐺 #🐺 Arcane Spoilers 🐺 #🐺 Less talking... More Biting! - Ask 🐺 #🐺 Chemical Smog - Verse 🐺 #🐺 gnawing hunger - ic 🐺 #🐺 Can't Hide Your Scent! - Anonymous 🐺 #🐺 The Beast - Warwick 🐺 #{{ This took too long for how sub par it is

[chemicalmongrel]

Anonymous asked: “anon love” anon approaches, gently wiping away the once-man’s tears. this too shall pass, dear stranger. you will find your heart’s desire (a good heart and its sister) 🌼 (i did not expect that kind of reply and am now deceased. thank you.)

Fur bristles as the beast's scarred flesh twitches at the unwanted touch. Its tail stilled and the weight of an immense frame brought it onto its side. Acrid sludge continues to bleed from its eyes as it bored holes into the floor with absentminded scrutiny. Splitting pain stabbed into its head, hewing its skull and screaming into it the axe wound until the drum of war beat its temples. Blue and pink, they sat together with legs hugged to chests and bruised cheeks and cut lips. Pink wore bloodied badges upon scabbed knuckles. Blue tinkered with a tin can decorated with screws, knives, bolts and freeform crayon patterns. They were smiles and hugs and laughter, just like goggles and lockpick. Four--four children, four bouquets scattered to pieces about the beast. B R O K E N!

Warwick's ear twitched and angled to the side, both standing at attention. A voice spoke, hushed and grating. Fork scribbled against porcelain. Heart's desire. Pink's desire--protect blue, goggles and lockpick. A good heart, a good colour. Either paw tenses as the caustic ooze filtered throughout its body flowed into the brazen gauntlet stitched into its arm. A thousand-thousand biting gnats snap at the monster's flesh--an itch nothing could scratch. Scratches mar another's arm, pink flesh made white from deeds gone. Pink without blue, without goggles and lockpick. Where are they? W H E R E A R E T H E Y!

The floor shakes as both paws come crashing down upon stained floorboards. Wood threatens to give way to inhuman strength, groaning undercurrent to the whirring chamber embedded in its back. Petals and stems are crushed Goggles and lockpick, puddles of scarlet blooming from debris. Pink lays beneath metal--monsters loom in the smog, directed by a figure. The figure. The eye. O N E G L I T T E R I N G E Y E!

Liquid FIRE fills its veins! A madman's plunger splits muscle and pierces bone! Its world is RED and ORANGE and ANGER and PAIN!! The eye wants pink! Wants blue! Took goggles and lockpick! Can't save them all--have to save them! I T H U R T S!!

"LET ME FORGET!"

A treetrunk swung out from the MONSTER, slamming into the person and throwing them clear. MEANINGLESS NOISE! PAIN! PAIN! Fight through it! Fight for blue! Fight for pink! Follow the scent, find the EYE! The BEAST turns to the nearest window and throws itself through the shattered remnants of glass. Dulled blades DIG into hide! Splintered wood explodes from window sill as the BEAST disappears into the smoggy night.

#🐺 warning :: possible triggers within 🐺 #🐺 disturbing imagery 🐺 #🐺 graphic descriptions 🐺 #🐺 graphic depictions of violence 🐺 #🐺 death 🐺 #🐺 Less talking...More Biting! - Ask 🐺 #🐺 Chemical Smog - Verse 🐺 #🐺 gnawing hunger - ic 🐺 #🐺 Can't Hide Your Scent! - Anonymous 🐺 #🐺 The Beast - Warwick

[chemicalmongrel]

Anonymous asked: anon love AWAY! *showers you and your muse with flowers (and if you’re allergic, you get a cute paper flower instead)*

Tired eyes crack open long before the flowers are showered atop Warwick's immense head. And with every footstep closer, its ears twitched and angled to keep track of the person brave enough to venture so deep into the Lanes. Swaying back and forth, the beast's tail brushed the dirt and debris left by it when it trailed into the ruined building. Its hackles bristled and its brow furrowed, corners of its lips pulling back to evince carnassial teeth and brutal canines. The many cylinders containing sloshing, caustic chemicals on its back whir as tension builds in every inch of muscle. And then the first keldiscopic splash of color met its mucus-tinted vision as soft petals and firm stems rain atop its curled up form.

It was... nice. The aroma flittered into its nostrils, bringing back brief recollections like a fleeting panorama tossed amid a pyre's burning flames. Pink and blue hair. Fists and symbol monkeys. Crying children, faces fading away into flames. Acrid sludge bled from the corners of its eyes, pain shooting up into its head like an icepick with each caustic tear. What were their names?

#🐺 Less talking...More Biting! - Ask 🐺 #🐺 Chemical Smog - Verse 🐺 #🐺 Gnawing Hunger - IC 🐺 #🐺 Can't Hide Your Scent! - Anonymous 🐺 #🐺 The Beast - Warwick 🐺