#alien ivan

for the sake of information: chilly, raptor god, can transform into reptilian animals but majorly raptor; den, chaos god, “tattooed” with a rotated-90-degrees yin yang symbol on her back, the two dots are where she can sprout tentacles made of chaos matter. she also grew a lot of eyes that aren’t visible when closed, teeth are sharpened, nails sharpened, etc.; christian is a lava hybrid, bezearts idea, I added the horns and tails onto their concept but a silly quirk is that ash fall from him and his hair has drifts of smoke; Ivan is an alien extended from Kristine’s episode abt aliens, uh he’s weak as fuck is what ive realized while writing this

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Den slumped in her corner of the couch with eyes seemingly landing on the TV. Though, it was a gaze without any actual kind of focus or attention. She fidgeted with her hands in some irritated sort of fashion. 

Her vision was tinted with red and blurrier than the oldest cameras, as they have been ever since the tournament, her godhood. But, recently they’ve started to pulse black from time to time, usually accompanied by headaches and… the souls. They’d ask her to do things. To break, to lash out, to murder, even. And they are so good at appealing to her desires. They are so convincing. 

“Den?” 

It sounded like Ivan, but she couldn’t be sure. There was a barrier, a ringing in her ear that prevented her from focusing on anything other than the hundreds of souls muttering in her head. She glanced up, barely making any attempts to distinguish the blurry figure in her vision.

“Go find someone else, Ivan.” She turned back towards the TV with a small sigh. She had a rough idea of what he wanted — throw out the trash, or return the knife she stole, or maybe something about the rent. None of which she cared to do anything about now, or ever. She opened a minor eye under her left eye — one of the many she grew after the souls were absorbed — although using these minor eyes would only intensify her headaches, some of them had clearer visions than her human eyes. 

Surely there were others who could help with whatever Ivan needed, Den figured. On the other couch piled Chilly and Christian, one hugged a bag of chips to her chest and the other with Shadypaws in his lap. The woman’s blatant ignorance of the other when he reached for the chips, even tilting the bag towards him, was her wordlessly given permission.  

Den smiled at that. There were things said and done during their adventures that would leave her in heavy doubts of their relationship. She would be convinced the others would have her back before something changes that and she couldn’t even trust them enough to willingly entail what weapons she carried with her. 

“…my god Den, it’s your turnnn,” Den couldn’t tell if he was being annoying on purpose by dragging his vowels out. She swore, if he keeps bothering her-

“You can’t keep making me-“

“Shut up, Ivan!” Den practically growled at him. She could tell he was a little surprised by the strange, animalistic noise bubbling in her throat. A neat little trick that came with her transformation. She was almost amused. She ran her tongue over the points of her new teeth, pressing down a little to remind herself of their sharpness. She didn’t know if she missed her old, human teeth, but she did know that she’d have to make a change in her dental plans soon.

“Okayy!” He took half a step up with his hands up, rolling his eyes. Though, with pitch black eyes like his, it was hard to tell anything, “You just like, always force me to…” 

He’s being loud, they said. Den snickered. As if she couldn’t tell? He’s so annoying. Someone needs to shut him up. You should make him shut up. They are right about that, she cocked her head slightly, watching the figure of Ivan. He’s still rambling. The souls are right most of the time. He needs to shut up. He needs to shut up. You should hit him. Hit him. Stab him. Kill him. You should kill him. You should kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Den frowned. She rarely tries to reason with the souls, but sometimes they get out of hand. ‘What the fuck?’ She asks them, ‘That’s absurd-’ 

“...and I just feel like- Den? Are you even listening?” Ivan frowned. He leaned forward and snapped in front of her focus-less eyes, “Hey!” 

He’s still talking. She could almost hear them laugh. 

“SHUT UP!” Sometimes, her body move faster than her brain can keep up. She found her left hand gripping Ivan’s collar tight with the tip of her nails turning into claws, narrowly avoiding digging into his skin in her lack of precision. Just make him shut up. Stop him from talking. Shut him up. Shut him up. Shut him up. Den didn’t notice the two getting up from the couch, turning to the commotion, or Shadypaws’ ears flattening out at her in fear. At that moment, her thoughts and the souls’ overlapped. 

Kill him. 

For better or worse, she always kept a knife by her side. Though clearly, it’s for the worse as of current. The amount of commands screamed out by the souls at an instant grew to an all time peak as the distance between her and her goal closed in, reaching a density and volume that it all started to sound like plain static to her. She had completely lost the vision in her normal eyes and a minor eye had opened almost instinctively, providing her with a strangely clear and refreshingly untinted vision. 

Her golden irises reminded Ivan of the stab wound on his leg that hadn't gotten time to heal fully yet. He could still feel the compression of the bandage he wrapped this morning. 

It was hard to recall when exactly Den’s tradition of stabbing him started. He’d forgotten why he’s still hung around this woman, but he certainly regrets it now. He could sense something that was different today. 

In his panicked terror, his hands become discolored and smooth, transforming back into his alien limbs as he pulled desperately to break from Den’s grip on his collar. Unfortunately, despite his alien identity, he had nothing to combat the strength of a god like Den. He rarely ever tried to fight human Den and relied only on verbal protests. Though, something told the past that this time was different from before. Different from the other times she stabbed him. This time felt, and is so much more dangerous, more lethal. He would die right here if he can’t get the fuck out right now. 

The wound on his leg ached more now, foretelling his downfall. What was his mistake? Hanging around these bunch of people, maybe. 

Fuck. 

He screamed as a piercing pain shot through his body from his chest. 

He wanted to cry. For an alien, why did his body structure have to be so similar to a human’s? Out of all the places it could grow, why was his heart the same place as humans’? For that matter, why was he so weak? The woman who raised him told him stories of aliens that were strong and powerful. Capable of saving themselves from the newly inherited chaos god, perhaps.

All the hopes she had for him. 

Others were screaming too. One of the two was familiarly shrill and unbearingly sharp. Accompanied with that was a calming cold that grew at the source of his devastation. Calming, and even… nulling the pain. 

He looked down and found ice spreading out from inside his chest, locking the knife within the ice, holding the knife a few layers of flesh away from piercing his heart. He could feel it, if it’s one perk that came with being an alien. 

Although Chilly was capable of forming ice out of nothing — it was typical of gods to create matter from none — some of it had been made out of his blood, perhaps out of her haste. He dragged his mouth out, as if to laugh. Saved by Chilly Panda, the same woman he nearly killed during highschool, then at the cabin, and a third time at the Raptor Park.  

Her right, still-human hand was stretched in front of her as she ran, twisting and manipulating the ice to prick Den’s hand, forcing her to release the knife. Christian ran by her, racing even faster than the raptor god to attack Den from her back, pulling her a good few steps away from Ivan by grips on an arm and a shoulder. 

“Yo!” He hissed, swinging his left arm over, letting his forearm hit the side of her neck as he reached over for a rear naked choke, forcing Den to turn away from Ivan, “Chill the fuck out!” 

However, nothing stirred her as she looked back with three minor eyes open now, still staring at him as she simply arched back to the side and swung her free arm at Christian, trying to land a claw on him. 

Realizing her intent, Christian immediately released all grip on her, curled a leg up, and kicked her to the floor just in time to avoid getting pierced by the shadowy tentacles that shot out from her back. “The fuck,” He whispered, panting slightly as he retracted. 

Without missing a beat, Chilly encased the chaos god in ice within the second she took to regain her footing, taking care to leave an amount of space for her to lash and wear herself out. With it being her natural element, Chilly’s ice was yet too strong for Den, a new god, to break with ease. 

For a moment, there was a thought like “Oh gods, what did I just do?” that occurred, but it was too quickly drowned out by everything else. Nor could she bring herself to face the fact that she failed to keep sane again. Den was getting worried. Regardless of what she considered Ivan, a friend or less, if she ends up being the one that kills him, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how she’d feel. Or even, by that point, would she have lost her own soul by then? Would she fully resort to serving mindlessly to souls of bitching morons who had died thousands years ago? 

The intense fear she experienced the second she regained her mind kept her attacking at the ice. She scraped into it either claws and her tentacles trying to dig through the ice. Maybe if she did lose it, she wouldn’t have to face the consequences of her actions. How could she? Murdering was one thing and murdering a friend… was a whole other. She struck at the ice cage with everything she had until her movements physically slowed with exhaust. Her body wavered in the air for a moment before she let herself collaps to the floor. 

She lay idle for a moment. What was she to do? There was no way she’d just let herself lose her mind to these fucking imbeciles living in her mind, but what is there that she can do? What was she supposed to do to get rid of them? She could give so many things to return to the time where it was just her in her head. 

“Gods…” Den curled up, her tentacles wrapping her into a cocoon. The noises she makes are almost intelligible, a blend of sobbing laughter. Chilly glanced at her from where she stood, and for a moment Den thought she saw sympathy in her eyes. Like she understood her problem. She wove her cocoon tighter at the thought. 

Chilly grimaced and let her ice disintegrate away. They had moved Ivan to the restroom as soon as Den was contained. She had been listening to the doctor’s instructions on what ice to remove from his chest. He had concluded that the damage was only punctured flesh and a notched rib. The ice, he said, had helped the wound, and said it was all fine and he’d handle the rest. 

Speaking of which. 

Nothing was fine, for the record. 

Nothing has been fine since Raptor Park. Since she was thrown into the raptor enclosure by them, losing an arm and nearly dying. Since Christian literally died in that volcano eruption, randomly showing back up at their door with relapsed memories, varying second, to third degree burns, a set of demon-like features and nearly burning down the apartment with the embers that drift off from his skin. 

And then with Den absorbing the previous god of chaos. 

Ever since Chilly awakened godhood, vague cosmic knowledge bubbles at the back of her head. Though, they were things she could barely grasp, let alone making any sense of it. For some reason, as her third eye opened subconsciously, she had a hunch that she would be able to understand what Den’s going though. She looked at Christian. 

He seems to sense it. He seems to sense everything, actually. He met her gaze, and when Chilly stayed silent, he simply motioned at Den and pointed at his neck. Chilly nodded. 

Christian then turned. His tail glided softly through the air and swung behind him as he made his way back towards the couch. He picked up the TV remote and began rewinding the movie. Chilly rested her eyes on the flakes of ash gathered at where he last stood, and wiped them off with her socks before she walked to join Den on the floor. She got down and curled up next to her, shifting parts of her body from human to raptor to lay comfortably, and rested her eyes. 

If she really did understand Den’s problem, or rather, she thought, it was more like an issue with all gods her type, then they would really need Dr. Ake’s help.