Aradia [F]

aradia

burn everything you love, then burn the ashes

The pulsing thrum of life, of blood coursing through tiny, newly-developed veins, echoes all around the space, through the dark warmth and inside her head; it is never silent here, but it is not painful or strange. It simply is. There is awareness. With this awareness comes the darkness, deep and so black it is a void. The air is stale and thick with her own scent, her limbs feel heavy and burdened with a sticky fluid that restrains her movement in the enclosed space that is her prison. There is another presence beside her, a sibling, but it's bloodheat was weak, sickly. She knows it will not last the night, and she will never mourn for it's loss. She really is tiny; lean and sleek. At least for now. Her teeth are wicked sharp already, primed for use. But she’s blinking those large red eyes right into the heat lamp, irises narrowed to slits, yellows and oranges dancing around them. Red streaks down her limbs, as if someone had applied a layer of fiery tones without bothering to be neat, the colour pooling around her hooves. He knows that those temporarily uncoordinated legs would propel the equine to speeds rivalling any car. He knows that those hooked ivories would hold down a helpless being as she devoured it alive. He knows the heights she is capable of leaping. It’s just that she’s adorable...

Fuck it. He reaches out to the petite foal - his foal - and begins to pluck strands of straw from her form. He’s slow, careful not to startle her, but she’s fascinated by his hand. He gently separates more straw from her back, where she can’t reach, and hums quietly to fill the silence. He doesn’t know what he’s humming – he’s not really paying attention. Her chest is rumbling, little growls coming from her razor-filled mouth as she lips curiously at his fingers, exploring the way they connected to his hand. The excitement wells up in his chest again. As her crimson eyes lock onto his gaze, he’s completely besotted.

She went straight for his face.

He caught her with his forearms, attempting to fend her off; blood was streaking from his arms and face by the time onlookers pushed their way into the stall (needless to say, her prey quit before he had chance to see her again). The hand around her neck squeezed threateningly, the petite equine's ivories withdrawing from flesh to reveal features bludgeoned almost beyond recognition, and the filly stepping back, seemingly unfazed by the whole situation. A tongue of vibrant cerulean, serpentine in appearance, rasped over the side of her jaw, evidently savouring the warm copper tang of the man's blood, and eying up the nearest human's boot with predatory hunger instilled within her gaze. She wasn't given an opportunity to lunge, the bipedals shuffling to remove the wailing man from the stall. The fact that they were carting the entertainment away seemed to disappoint the filly, though her attention was promptly grabbed by another who approach. More cautious than the last, the feminine notes, though his bloodheat radiates calm to her. He might not actually know what he's doing, but as long as he believes it she will too. He became a space-heater of calm. Her confusion lessened. She studied him quietly; the second thing he learns saves his life more than once in the future. It's how to tell when she was serious. If she looked him in the eye, he was fucked. One day it will come to a test of wills, man on beast. And hell, she had the capability to attack now, and she was barely an hour and a half old. They won't stand a chance when the filly had grown. He pushed that knowledge aside – it’s always there, though, in the back of his mind. The first words she hears aren’t her name. They aren’t senseless cooing. He says, "eyes on me."

The feminine's growth rate, heavily enhanced through cuttlefish DNA pouring throughout her system, exploded within the next few months, and she began to show a keen intelligence, understanding commands without issue (despite not abiding by them). She figured out how to unlatch the door to her new containment within a few minutes of being moved in, forcing scientists to apply numerous padlocks to prevent another escapade like that (lets just say that she bit off more than her pound of flesh that day). Her handling, even at this early stage, involved a lot of biting, pulling, and general disobedience, no amount of punishment ever working that stubborn refusal to move from her system. But, she was still young, and ever curious of the world around her, which was both frustrating and endlessly hilarious - the stubbornness applied also to not letting herself be dragged away from butterflies (she was trying to kill them, but come on, don't deny that the thought of a mini terror chasing around a butterfly isn't cute) or the newer individuals to the science team. There was no gradual application of training, no, instead it was dropped upon her like a ton of bricks, although she promptly took to it, adjusting swiftly, taking control of the situation, just as she was created to. Although they attempted to force their dominance upon her, she never accepted it - what did the flesh-faced bipedals have in comparison to her? She was fast. She was strong. She was always first to react. She was a leader, and she was in charge. They were nothing.

As soon as she was too large to follow them around like an not so obedient duckling, she had challenged their authority, and she came out on top, regardless of the fact she was punished immediately. She still carries the reminders of her strength – jagged scores spilling from her mouth and curving up her muzzle from where they attempted to pry her jaws from flesh - reminders that the furless twolegs were defenceless and needed shocksticks to deter her. The scars reminded the bipedals as her status as their leader, their alpha. She had proven himself worthy. What had they done? Cowered behind walls and doors and locks and their shocksticks.

The muzzle came into play after that. The oversized contraption was a combination of leather and metal, and designed to keep her teeth out of the equation. She immediately grew to hate the restriction of her jaws, the tight clamp. But more than anything, she despised the manner the furless bipedals could waltz up and dare touch her. Her skin was barely touchable between the metal and leather furled around her snout, but that didn't stop them, cold flesh sweeping across the more delicate areas of her facials. She growled, she kicked, she tossed her head, she shoved her weight against them, but nothing could deter them from it. Physical examinations, injections, blood samples - they were fascinated by the opportunity to get up close with the fruit of their experiments for the first time. And she hated it. No, no, she hated them. Every last one.

Several months later, with the feminine's training still focused on intensifying the velocity of her viciousness, the new experiments came into play. She sensed their presence long before she arrived within their confinement, despite the muzzle fitted upon her snout; the incentive to protect, to rule, outweighed the need to fight the one leading her. He guided her She dragged the human attached to the other end of the leadrope to the source of the scent, and took in the sight of the new charges with cold scrutiny. Their bloodheats were strong, blazes of light in the void, much contrasting to the weak once-sibling Aradia would never know. They were like her. They were tough, she knew it. And they would survive. She'd make sure of that... But, damn, was she really that tiny once? The mare was more intrigued by the new subjects than any of the staff had predicted, the feminine refusing to relocate until given a closer look at the petite equines. She observed the darker filly for a few moments, caught in the depths of peaceful sleep. I will call you Terezi.

Only as she lowered her snout to the pair did she realize the oddity that one possessed - it was... Translucent. Like smoked glass. She could make out the bones and flesh innards beneath clouded flesh. The twin of the filly wasn't see through, not at all, so why was this one? She sniffed curiously at it's flank, delicately pressing against it's side, knowing by instinct the fragility of one so young as this. However, she jerked backwards upon the thing shuffling, bright blue eyes switching upwards to stare back. She'd almost forgotten it was alive... She stared for several seconds down at the partially translucent filly, switching an ear in confusion, but hesitantly lowering her muzzle again. She exhaled a warm breath of greeting towards it, forcing her own bloodheat to radiate calm-security-warmth, producing a subdued, tapering hiss to illustrate her dominance. The translucent filly promptly lost interest in Aradia's hushed investigation and returned to the dream world with her twin. Kanaya, she thought, giving her new charge a final glance over, before reluctantly drawn from their confinement by the newly appointed handler, who was merely relieved that she complied for the first time in her damn life, that will be your name.

When she sees the petite pair again, they're only a few days old, and even tinier than she remembered. In being roughly a year older, Aradia was much taller, and thrice as cunning. Surprisingly, the bloodlust of the feminine was temporarily outweighed by a sense of completion, the need to surround herself by her own kind, the familiarity. Needless to say, she was intrigued by the miniature hers, perhaps even slightly playful with them. The strike of dominance within her had her bullying them a little, though the scientists allowed it - plus, it was hilarious to watch her berate the little ones, who acted much like disgruntled puppies when she hissed. Even so, the siblings were getting vicious, and neither could seem to get the upperhand. Kanaya has finally managed to get the higher status, though seemed frustrated - they'd been scrapping for so long that it wasn't playful anymore. The annoyance at their stalemate had translated as pent-up aggression, and Kanaya wasn't joking around. Her teeth was rotating downwards, hooking upon Terezi's neck.

The gravity of the situation promptly surfaced within the mare's mind; Terezi couldn't survive a blow like that, and Kanaya knew it. Inheriting the tension, the feminine snarled quietly, the flesh of her back twitching slightly, barking their names. Their eyes were upon her instantly. Shit, she forgot how fast they learnt, but then again, they were like her - dreadfully intelligent. She needed to stop underestimating her charges. They held their positions long enough to receive quite the scolding from the older mare, and only when Terezi began to get twitchy from standing still for so long did she cease her berating. They spent the next hour grovelling. Aradia just looked on imperiously, amusement in her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd done so. She initially hoped they were going through a teenage phase, angry at the world and their twin for no other reason than growing up. That wasn't the case. Terezi was stronger, and yet held a lower position in the pack. It frustrated her, built into aggression. Kanaya was smarter than her, more cunning. She’d kept her rank through her brains. The two of them constantly jockeyed for the position. As alpha, it became her duty to shut their bullshit down before they could kill each other.

And that was something she continued to do, even as they grew larger than her, if only by a few hands, all three becoming increasingly vicious and agitated under the perpetual training. When the next addition to the growing pack was introduced, things did not go down quite as smoothly for Aradia as with Kanaya and Terezi. As with everything, the alpha was the first to investigate the petite filly, and the weak bloodheat disgusted her. Plus, the little one smelt like filthy twoleg. The presence, the burning light effect, was nowhere near similar to any of her pack, even when they were that age - it was not one of them. Her muzzle was on, so she couldn't cull it effectively enough to ensure it's death, not without risking the harm of Kanaya or Terezi, who seemed plenty more accepting of the new equine. With the insistence of the pack, she took on the filly as a new charge, reluctantly dubbing her Vriska. 

Within a few weeks, if not days, Vriska was snarling, the muscles in her less defined jaw twitching. She was aggressive. It was obvious in the manner she stared directly at Aradia, but that wasn't everything; she was envious of the attention the others gave the alpha. They'd had that stalemate before. Vriska was the youngest of the pack, bearing the lowest ranking, the weakest. They all get along - the lab's team made sure they did - yet they were hyperaware of their place in the hierarchy. She came closer, shoulders rolling back and head jutting forth; posturing. Instinctively, Aradia's throat vibrated in a barely audible growl, the snarl too quiet to distinguish from Vriska's. Warning her off, the alpha tense and rigid, leaking hostility. She might have been in charge, but her position in the pack constantly had her on alert. She was always the first to act. Not only because she was aggressive - her swiftness was born of the need to be first. These equines had no concept of leading from the rear, it just wasn't in their genes. Keep up with the pack or get left behind. Lead from the front or not at all. 

Carter Campbell was a dick, much like some sort of drill sergeant; all scathing hatred under a guise of military protocol. Aradia knew false bravado when she saw it - the man radiates it, always self-assured, masochistic as she was. Old as he is, with somewhat spacey blue eyes, he shouldn't have been intimidating. But, lest, he'd been in charge of the HOSC for well over a decade, and he'd do anything to get what he wanted - which she could have easily grown to respect, should that anything have discluded threatening Aradia's charges. As such, she was ready to kill him. The aggression was building within her system, stiffening her sore muscles; she was well aware of her capability to bludgeon the smirk from his face. She'd killed men before and this one was no different from the other furless bipedals. Given the chance, she'd have torn his damn throat out. However, she knew of the punishment she'd receive. She knew of the death penalty that would be set on her head. She knew it would mean her culling. Bloodlust and survival waged war within her mind, rattling constantly in the darkest recesses of her head. Instead, she vented her frustrations on the next three handlers that were assigned to her, each receiving a seemingly unprovoked attack with the slightest of distractions. The science team was reminded just again how deadly their creations were.

Frustration and aggression still courses through her system to this day, but her girls are worth every shred of anger and pain that lingers in her chest like a deadly shrapnel. Their hunger sits beside their pupils like it always has; right at the forefront, a thin sheen stretched tight over burning orbs. She's seen it so many times over the course of her life, no longer foreign. Their hunger is natural, common. It's what she sees every day. Lazy hunger on a hot summer's day, barely worth acting upon if it meant abandoning the coolness of the shade. Active hunger, on the days Terezi won't calm down, bouncing between her fellow experiments like a pinball and riling them up so thoroughly that Aradia has to snarl and snap when it comes to feeding time. Burning hunger in winter's peak, needing the food to keep the cold from seeping  into their bones. Calculated hunger on scent-exercise days. Regardless of this hunger, she always makes sure they know she's there. They know that, of course - but she reminds them, because that's what an alpha does, what she does. Reminds them that she's in charge. Reminds them that they're okay. Reminds them that they're not alone. Reminds them that she is here to watch out for each of them. Always. They were stronger than any black hole that could ever be imagined. Aradia lets go of everything else, and it doesn't hurt. Doesn't feel anything but right. Because she has a piece of pack - and pack?

Pack is home.

aradia has no set face claim