Veteran’s Plateau Altar

Thalia · 11-01-2022, 04:32 PM

Word of the statues that had popped up in numerous territories all over Boreas and Auster had reached Thalia, perhaps a bit late but luckily not too late for her to pay them a visit. She had no doubt that the Fallen God himself was responsible for their creation and appearance, though the intricacies of their existence was lost on her. Not that it mattered - she intended to find one and pay it her respects. Apparently wolves were already gathering to make offerings to them and Thalia Abraxas thought long and hard about what she had to offer to her God long before she arrived at one of the statues. Abraxas didn't care for physical items, not in the way some of the wolves here thought he did. Her gaze was cold and calculating as it skimmed the wolves that filtered in and away from the altar, judging their offerings.

Hers was infinitely better. She was quiet as she approached, bowing her head solemnly for a long moment. "To you I offer my first born child. Whenever they are born, their life is yours." Not that she had any yet, but if He was willing, then hopefully soon. Children had never been something she'd considered, not seriously at least, not until now. For what better way was there to show her devotion to her God than to offer her very own flesh and blood? Her eyes gleamed, hopeful as she gazed upon the time-worn face of the statue and searched for a sign of approval. She swore as she backed up that the statue's eyes flashed blood red - which was really all the sign she needed. It'd been so long since she'd had direction and she found herself silently hoping that a sacrifice so extreme would surely sway her God in her favor and prove her devotion as true and unwavering.

NPC:

TW: Body horror around pregnancy, and dead fetus imagery.

You do in fact see the eyes flash red, and a hush falls over the familiars who all seem to turn as one to stare up at the statue and you find yourself suddenly frozen. Somewhere from among the familiars, a cry goes up: Uncontrollable sobbing.

The crying grows louder, and you realize with a start it’s the mewling of a newborn, a primal cry of a child too young to say in words what it needs. It grows louder and louder and louder until it is all you can hear. You instinctively curl in on yourself, trying to drive the deafening crying from your mind but you cannot seem to fold in on yourself the way you mean to.

You peer between your forelegs and have to fight back a wave of nausea, your abdomen is swollen, you are pregnant, not just pregnant but you are close to bursting. Before your eyes, you see your flesh writhe, whatever is growing inside you is trying to fight its way out. You retch then, your stomach heaving and you vomit onto the ground. The crying grows louder and you stare in horror at the former contents of your stomach, on the ground, covered in blood and bile are several small bean-shaped creatures, vestigial legs struggling to move as your unborn puppies struggle to live in the world before they grow still, and still, your stomach writhes, whatever is inside you is not a puppy-

You scream so loudly your throat is sore and it takes several of the familiars pressing themselves into you to bring you back to reality, their gentle cooing, trying to calm you feeling too close to a mother calming their upset child for you in this moment. You can feel tears running down your face and you shakily get to your paws. The tabby cat steps forward, worry clear in its face. “Best get home and get some rest, you’re in for a long one.” You hardly even hear it, nodding numbly and you feel cold and exhausted, your return home is slow and miserable.

You have recieved:
The seasonal flu, your symptoms include but are not limited to: Chills, body aches, and fatigue. You must include at least one symptom in all new threads from now until November 27th, when Thalia is allowed to recover.

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