#invy

Day 15: Ivy

Anthony Fineran (B 1981), Maller Invy Dor EO, 2023

Invy by MarRodigo. <3

Hey y’all, still alive, recovering, and drawingggg. Have a gross candy Gore Invy!

It was only natural, wasn’t it? Perhaps; but then again breathing had been natural at one point in their history as well. Singular green eye traces the vestiges of their current lair, taking in the glyphs and sigils they had inscribed at the behest of the parasite. As their eye moved, it too appraised their work before affirming it was satisfactory for the intense magic they required. Illusions were always tricky, layering them against magical detection and natural degradation from the elements was another thing altogether. One had to blend the scent, sight, sound and expectation of what the illusion would be so thoroughly that reality itself would bend to the rules of the illusion. It had been hard enough on the construct they now found themselves contained in- but for a whole building? That required more magic than they could call up on a whim. They could see it of course; flickering through the air like dust motes on the breeze. Occasionally flickering with intensity or dying out completely on the fickle winds of arcana. they hadn’t called any of the magic to them yet; though it sometimes stuck to their aura in little flurries as they moved through it. More had gathered in the abandoned carcass of the building they now stood in as they’d worked- they hadn’t remembered this place being so full the day before. Anticipation has their tongue sliding out along thin, drawn lips as fingers flex and push long strands of ebony curls over their shoulder and out of their way. They can feel the draw of power around themself; feel Eldest’s soft calling in their mind. It is time. Begin, we are getting cold. The release they’d been waiting for- anticipation has the creature surging their hands forward, focusing their intention on the spread clawed digits before them. They create practiced signs with their fingers; arcane symbolism to pass the secret language of the magic that already had begun to take notice of their call. They could feel it- like a hungry school of predatory fish, or perhaps the eye of a great shark- the force took note of their call, and responded. At first it felt like a slow draw, but as the power began to build, it drew more of itself; the flow undulating like a serpent as they pull, demand it to come to their call. The power is exhilarating; inspiring near euphoric excitement as it builds, builds, builds— until the crescendo of their harnessed force is sufficient, and then their will is following that of the parasite’s. They can feel it direct their hands to form familiar arcana as his will flows into their own, overlapping and pairing with their own in a dance of cooperation formed over a milenia of repeated harmonizing. They sink into themselves then, no further surface thoughts; they are lost in the sweet torture of controlling the flow of power they still draw from. Magic- strong, wild and willful bends to their fingers, infusing the arcane inscriptions and building from them a gossamer fine cloak of illusion around the burned out remains of the building. Walls crawled from the ground, carpet sprouting across the floor and furniture tumbling together as if hastily sketched into place. Nothing is perfect, yet- no, it will take some minutes for Eldest and his ilk to construct the illusion perfectly. Even now, the other inhabitants of their subconscious murmur their work, flowing and controlling the minutia of the art their progenitor had so carefully crafted. Even as they step back from their outward consciousness, they can feel the eldest parasite helming their corporeal form like a dutiful captain. It is taking too long, they caution; unaware of how long they have worked already. It has been less than four human minutes, comes unbidden from a creature they are not as close to. There are no living things around, yet. Nothing that will notice, Eldest soothes in the back of their mind. While the younger parasites forever sound in discord, the feelings they leave the creature with are never fully pleasant- Eldest’s presence is something else. As steadfast as bone, and warm. He had always reminded them of the sap of an ancient oak- foreboding and yet warm. Had only the others given their thoughts, they may never have submitted so easily. Yet Eldest is unquestionable; the knowledge of near-all things a soothing fail-safe to the creature’s concern. A breath is taken reflexively as yet more magic invades their senses. It is both a moment and an infinite eternity before the details are unmistakable from the truth. Not even someone who entered the abode would know they entered the shell of a house they had only recently dismantled. They would not see the skeletal remains of its residents. They are releasing the magic then, though this is a practiced ending- they simply lower their hands, their will dispersing and with it the foci of the power around them. It trickles through their fingers before it is all but gone, returning to the infrequent flickers it had been prior to their invasion. The creature licks their lips, pangs of hunger washing the euphoria of diverging power. Their eye traces the doorway leading out- and they know they will hunt, if not from needing to- but wanting to after such a display. They would feast- if not due to the magic, then in honor of it. The aberration slinks from the house’s illusion and into the night on practiced, silent feet with a renewed sense of hunger.

Welp I just realized I was quite a dummy and posted this almost a year ago on Devianart but not here, I swear my braincells are awful.  Previous: https://tiffcat-blep.tumblr.com/post/188214213156/i-have-returneddddddddddd-previous-next-soon Next: soon Underhundred belongs to: me Undertale by: Toby Fox warning: this is a Frans comic (im sorry) Hope you like it!

Also another fashion mask