#dl volatile

"A Volatile’s age is impossible to discern at first glance.

However, upon closer inspection, one is able to make out that some individuals have horns throning on the top of their hairless skulls. Horns that, much like the plating on their bodies, grow and mutate as the years pass.

And the remarkable thing is: No Volatile has the same horn pattern. Much like a human’s fingerprint, every one of these nightmarish creature’s natural crown is unique."

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Alternate Universe: The Baron and his Beast

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"I've been...hearing stuff lately."

The Baron stopped typing, brows furrowing at the sudden words spoken by the hybrid that had been sitting in the large wingback chair in front of his fireplace, face turned towards the flame. He was...taken aback by them, as Kyle had been unsarcastically silent ever since returning from his mission in the mountains in the late afternoon. Something he had chalked up to exhaustion until now, though it seems like he had not been correct.

"'Hearing stuff'?", he inquired in the hopes of gauging more information, turning his attention away from his laptop and towards the older brunette who curled up tighter underneath the blanket he had taken with him after settling into the comfortable seat, grabbing onto it so harshly his claws nearly cut through the fabric.

"Yeah...", he confirmed, sliding his lower lips in between his teeth to softly chew on it in thought. "At night. When I'm out on missions. Voices."

The blonde rose his eyebrows, the chair screeching as he shifted his entire body to properly look at his creation. What in the world...? "Voices?"

Crane only nodded in affirmative. He shifted again, one of his palms now resting on the soft armrest.

"Were they...intelligible?", the last Fischer asked, finally slipping from his own chair to rise, leather shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he, carefully, began to approach from behind, very aware of just how dangerous the human/volatile mix was when in such a...seemingly dazed state of mind. "If yes...what did they say?"

For several moments, Kyle refused to answer. He merely stared into the flickering element, devoid of all words. Only when the nobleman believed that it was wise to leave him be for now and to prod for more once his state of mind improved a bit did he release a sigh, turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder and at him, his inhuman iris meeting the icy blue of his own.

"They...called out to me...", he began, voice hoarse. "Said that I should join them. They spoke...and I quote..."One of Us. You are One of Us...". I didn't know what they meant at first..."

He broke off, hands curling into a fist.

The Baron finally reached the piece of furniture, his spiderly hands sprawled onto the soft fabric as he leaned closer. "Until?"

"Until I looked outside.", the hybrid continued, glancing up, glassy eyes meeting his. "And then I saw them..."

"Who did you see, Kyle?" Thin fingers slid towards his own, carefully settling over his as some sort of twisted comfort. Comfort from a man who had turned him into a lab rat. Comfort from a person who had done unspeakable horrors to the innocent in the name of science. And yet...despite possessing this awareness....this knowledge about these horrible things...he still answered.

Though, what he said next even left the last Fischer entirely speechless, for not only was it absolutely absurd to think about...but also horrendously disturbing.

"Volatiles, Marius. I saw Volatiles.", he said. "And they were all looking directly at me. One of them...was even pointing. They wanted me to join in on their hunt."

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🌚🌞

Immortalizing my first vollie encounter when I played the game for the first time and got hit with the daylight bug.