Cashew
Pet Name: Cashew
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Baby Stignightus
Born: October 6, 2012
Gender: Female
MisticPal Name: Empathy
MisticPal Age: 4138 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 15 / 15
Strength: 15
Defense: 0
Speed: 20
Intellect: 10
Misticpower: 1
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
No cage can contain me, I am darkness itself! I will seep through iron bars and pour into shadows, where you will lay in sunlight, unawares of your impending doom.
I am the dark and terrible consumption, I will feast upon your marrow and drink your blood as wine.
That's right, let your soul be eaten up by the fear! Your flesh will become seasoned with it and your death will be all the sweeter. For me anyway.
I will take you from your bed while you are sleeping, and you will be thrown from cold, pale darkness into nonexistence.
My mouth opens in a long and wide grin as I draw out a heavy yawn, revealing many more teeth than there should be.
But the night is long and I am weary, my eyelids are heavier than they should be.
Perhaps tomorrow then.
Yes, tomorrow! Tomorrow I will enact my vengeance and you will regret ever having crossed the likes of me!
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"Come, and meet your death with terror in your heart!"
ID No. 23F
Cashew; "a tropical tree of the family Anacardiaceae"
petulant || malevolent || spiteful || destructive
"The Imp"
Cashew is, much to the disbelief of those around her, pure evil. She is a very angry little monster and tries to destroy anyone that crosses her path. Unfortunately for her, she is never successful. She would love nothing more than to feast on the blood of her victims, but she has never so much as scratched anyone.
That is not to say she hasn't tried. Her entire day will be filled out with strategies and attempts, but no matter what she does her plans are always thwarted. This might be because she is unaware of her own shortcomings. She is unorganized, and worst of all, often talks out loud to herself, which of course compromises her position. Furthermore, she just isn't intimidating. Nobody takes her seriously because of her age and appearance. She is almost always perceived as an innocent, albeit quite rambunctious, child. This frustrates her most of all.
Her unusual desires spawn from her birthplace. Cashew is from a different dimension, a place where the echoes of our thoughts are manifested into reality. It is like ripples in the water; those who live in this world can create monsters through their own fears, the way they suppress parts of themselves, their expectations, false perceptions, through their hatefulness, etc. She is a manifestation of many things, and somehow was able to be born into a real, functioning body.
Cashew was created incompletely, in a whirl of hate and fear. This explains her inability to feel empathy or guilt. She does not really understand where she comes from, only that she is filled with an incredible desire to kill.
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Yellow pinpricks part the night
revealing a watcher deep
within the shadows'
heavy drowning shroud.
Wherein the lonely things creep
hoping for company
of any sorts,
whether they are living or the other thing.
Let the dark grab you
by the nape of your heart
and rend from you sensibility,
like it has the ones within.
They want your submission
so come to them on knees unbound
by fear, and bow your head
and maybe your life will not be stolen.
They yellow-eyed come sniffing,
for your body stinks of vulnerability
and they will take from you what they can, and play their games,
it may not be wise to be hopeful.
Blood beneath your veins sings frailty,
just so a break, easily spilled and drunken,
so sit and wait, death will come as it does,
though it may be slower than you'd like.
Maws in blackness,
tinged with red,
laid bare in empty wastelands
for in their consumption they are themselves consumed.
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In the dark of a cabin, a small thing hid in all corners of the house.
This thing was not like you or I. It cried but could not speak, it crept though it had no legs. It watched and bred, growing larger, taking up so much space that to be in the house was to suffocate.
This massless thing was fear. The inhabitants wore it like clothing. All except for one.
She walked in, with crooked, stumbling, cocky steps. She held a long bottle of clear liquid in one of her hands.
In the other, she held a thin, flexible branch.
Her two children sat with their heads down in the corners of the cabin.
And in the dark of the night, she wielded the branch as if it were a whip.
---
That night, three things walked out of the house.
The two children, eyes gray and hands red, walked sullenly off and away. They would never return to this home again.
The third was a wisp a creature, a shadow following the children. It was born of fear, darkness, and hate. It just then knew life, though still bodiless, and eventually broke away from the children to explore the extent of its reality.
The mother never emerged, and the cabin was lost to the whims of the woods, forgotten and rotting.
---
Out of the shadow, Cashew pounced on her target!
The bird who sat guarding her ground-nest squawked and chirped and in a fury of feathers bit and scratched at Cashew.
Cashew roared and bit and convinced the bird that she was too ferocious an adversary to approach again. She huffed and called, over and over again, watching her nest from a distance. In the fray she had injured her leg.
Cashew was none the worse for wear, and greedily turned her eyes in the direction of the nest. In it sat a host of eggs.
Cashew, as small as she was, could revel in this easy destruction. This was not beyond her grasp, like so many other things she had tried and failed at.
So she savored the moment. She walked around it, stalking it, smelling the rich air smacking her lips, before diving into the nest.
She crushed every egg there, sparing none and feeling no remorse. Shells and ooze squished between her toes. She spent her time carefully mashing every piece to bits.
When she was content with her work, she dipped her head down and opened her strange, nightmarish maw. If one could have looked, though no one was around save the despaired mama bird, they might have seen that she had... just a few too many teeth.
She sucked what ooze and blood she could from her destruction, though she had rendered most of it inedible in her fury.
As she turned to leave, she looked back at the broken nest. In an instance, she realized a black emptiness inside her.
She became infuriated, and upon seeing the bird hop slowly back up to her nest, she let out a desperate and furious roar.
The bird flinched away, took wing, and left her nest behind.
~
Cashew belongs to Apache.
[Adopted from Capnharris as a Baby Vix]
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