The VERDANTURF Team

The little Cubone screams as the bloodied dragon shoves its head through the window and lets out a deafening screech. The young Ground Type shields his face with a nub of shattered bone as the window breaks.
Its garbled pleas scare him and Veir tightly closes his eyes as the Dewott's blood splatters the floor.
He can feel movement from Zhen, the Weavile crouched low with his dark fur bristling, as the Dark Type steps forwards to protect him.
"Zhen, kill it!" Veir orders as he readies his bones and opens his mouth. The air temperature falls as a faint flicker of frost begins to form at the corners of his jaws.
He has no idea what the thing would look like in its natural state but even though they were broken it had wings and it looked sort of like a dragon.
That meant the Ice Type move Zhen had spent so many weeks teaching him how to use properly would work on it.
Veir prepares the move when suddenly the undead thing slumps, its head severed from the long neck.
The little fire fox was curled in the corner as the Buizel fled carrying the injured Dewott, the large fire dog following them without even a growled goodbye and the other water types leaving soon afterwards.
"What is it?" He asks the Vulpix, wondering if it was her that had removed the dragon's head. "What's coming?"

Zhen's dark fur bristles like that of an angry cat as he puffs himself up to make himself look larger and more intimidating as he flexes his long sharp claws, ready to sink them into flesh. Beneath the mask of filthy wihte bandages his cut and scarred face contorts into a feral snarl. A speck of foam shows along the edge of his twisted lip as he pulls the bandages from his face to expose his sharp toothed jaws as he hisses at the Flygon and charges forth.
The thing dies before he can reach it but obeying his instincts Zhen plunges his claws into its body anyway, scooping up the foul-smelling rotten meat and shoving it into his jaws as he starts to eat. He isn't very hungry and it takes a while for that message to reach his brain before the Dark/Ice Type stops gorging himself on the corpse and straightens his bandages back up, wiping his long white claws clean on the creature's purple marked skin.
.[/quote]

Bored...always so...bored...

Aggron was bored again. And when she was bored things tended to get a little dangerous for anything that crossed her path. Right now it was a few scraggly trees but soon she came across a small house in the middle of the route she was on. The fence was damaged and there was signs of death all around, but a voice crying from inside the home sparked her interest.

Her massive footsteps drew her closer to the little house and a figure darted down from the window. A Vulpix. Smiling the Aggron soon found a relief for her boredom. Using her Earthquake she shook the foundation of the building, terrifying the girl inside as shrieks of terror soon filled the empty silence. Her Metal Claw soon ripped through the wall next to the window and the Aggron was pleased when her grip found soft fur and flesh.

"Found you!" she exclaimed, her rusted jaws separating into the only thing that could pass for a smile on her beaten face. Pulling the screaming girl out Aggron soon saw that she had two other playmates in there with her. She could play with them later, right now it was the Vulpix's turn. "Ladies...first." Using two of her claws she began roughly gripping each tail before ripping them out one at a time. It was like her own little flower, only with each petal this flower screamed and cried, begging to be set free. "Kill them...kill them not...kill them..."

As she came to the last tail Aggron paused, looking to the other two within the house through the gaping hole she had made as her claws gripped the delicate appendage. She didn't like them. Growling she let loose another Earthquake, this one much stronger and sending the building into collapse. Not caring whether or not they got out she set back to work with the crying female in her hand. The Vulpix was looking at her with fear but somehow Aggron was still bored. She hated boredom.

Giving up with her toy she casually tossed it over her shoulder and heard the little fox hit a tree full force, the sounds of bones breaking reaching her ears. With a heavy thud she turned herself around before slowly trudging away from the broken home, one of her feet stepping on the front half of the Vulpix as she went. Aggron could feel the heavy slick beneath her foot but didn't bother to wipe it off, the red stain meaning little to her already rust covered form. She would find a better toy somewhere else.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The heavy footsteps echo like approaching thunder as the ground itself seems to tremble with something's approach. The Cubone’s stubby claws tighten around the shattered stump of bone in preparation for whatever it is as he turns towards the sound.
"You were right, it sounds like something is coming…” He says to the Vulpix as Zhen gulps down the last of the rancid meat and hisses.
"[color=#E2BF65]Zhen-[color]” He starts to say nervously, taking a step towards the Weavile when the walls crumble in.
Veir screams as the huge claws rip through the walls like they were tissue paper, metal red with blood and rust closing tight around the little Fire Type and dragging her out to the world beyond. The little Cubone sees bright red eyes set in a metallic face of harsh angles as the first of Yuki’s tails was roughly yanked from her body. His dark eyes see the white nub of bone gleaming amongst the blood as the curl of red fur is discarded then curved claws are closing tight around his shoulders as Zhen lifts him up and puts him on his shoulders. The little Ground Type shivers in fear as the red eyes fixate on them, some strange emotion flowing through the long dead creature’s bloody red gaze as it glares down at him.
"Zhen, run!" the little Cubone screams as the metallic bodied thing moves away from the house and carries Yuki off into the distance. Shortly afterwards the ground starts to jump underfoot.

Danger. Zhen thinks as he swallows his last bite of the Flygon’s flesh. Another thought follows hot on the heels of the first one, causing his dark fur to bristle like that of a cat even though his red eyes are still blank and emotionless.
Danger. Here!
He hisses, a strange animalistic sound without his tongue, as the walls crumble under the force of massive metallic claws. Instantly the Dark/Ice type is on guard, leaping forwards to snatch up Veir with his still bloodied claws as the Vulpix is dragged up through the torn whole in the house and lifted off. Ignoring the pitiful cries from the vulpine as her tails are torn loose the Weavile cares only about protecting one thing and that is Veir.
As he flees for the door the ground begins to shake under his clawed feet as violent tremors run through the entire house. Things fall off walls and plates shatter as the wooden supports that held up the roof began to splinter.
Cracks spider outwards from the hole in the wall as large chunks of plaster begin to fall from the ceiling.
Feeling Veir holding on tight to the red ruff around his neck the bandaged Weavile leaps forwards for the exit as the door-frame cracks then falls like a guillotine.

With a snap the door frame breaks loose of its supports and shatters on the ground, showering the small Ground Type in splinters.
Veir shields his eyes as chips of wood bounce off his bone helmet and Zhen holds him tight to his chest as they bounce on the ground a few times. The human structure is as sturdy as a house of cards to the force of the Earthquake, it collapsing down to noting more than a pile of disorganized rubble, trapping whatever remained in there permanently.
The little Cubone's dark eyes are wide.
Only minutes ago he had been happily eating surrounded by so many new friends, now he was once again terrified and alone.
Whether or not he intended it Zhen gives his shoulders a reassuring squeeze and under the helm of bone Veir smiles.
No, he wasn't alone while Zhen was here...
Picking up the twin halves of shattered bone Veir readjusts the hang of his leather satchel.
The bag still held some fresh berries for the journey.
Shaking his head to try and clear the memory of the Aggron from his mind the young Ground Type sets his sights on trying to find a shelter for the coming night. Like moths to a flame the scent of blood and the aftermath of the Aggron's cruelty would draw the lesser undead eager for a scrap of meat.

Danger gone. Zhen settles down as the trembling of the earth does. The attack had been targeted at the human structure specifically and it had crumpled the small house entirely but their last desperate dash had spared them the building's fate.
His red eye as cold and hard as a chip of ruby the Weavile releases Veir from his grip, the adolescent Cubone swiftly brushing himself off and getting back to his feet.
There wasn't enough emotion in him to miss the little Vulpix or any of the others. His first and only thoughts were to do with Veir's survival.
Silent and ghost-like the tall Weavile moves to Veir's side, already looking around with claws ready to deal with any undead that might consider the Cubone a meal. They were hear already, snapping dripping jaws and looking for a meal. Though his face remained calm underneath the covering of bandages the Weavile snarled at them.
"Buizel…” Veir asks incredulously as their path away from the shattered house leads them to wear Lysanna's body had been tossed aside.

Veir sighs as he looks the orange furred Water Type up and down.
"Buizel's lost it.” He says to his silent guardian as he wonders whether it would be kinder to just put the poor creature out of his misery and let Zhen take care of him.
The Weavile's claws were pretty sharp...
Shaking his head and feeling the loose bone helmet bounce as he does so Veir walks up to the Buizel and takes a good long look at him.
"It's hardly your fault." The small Ground Type says, sitting down beside the Buizel and rumaging in his satchel for a berry.
Brushing off a juicy Oran he raises his helmet a fraction to take a bite.
Right now desire to survive outweighed any desire he had to mourn the dead. They were beyond being able to care after all.

Sniffing at the air Zhen looms over the two. His dark grey fur, discolored by large splodges of purple, bristles as his reddish ears press back against his skull.
The bright red eye visible through the gap in the woven bandages sweeps from side to side.
His hooked claws twitch as Zhen faces the other undead still lurking around the fringes.
He hunches over Veir and hisses possessively.
Guard.

Veir crosses his short srms as he looks down at the Water Type's macabre mockery.
"Yup, completely lost it.” He says softly. He knows what it's like to grieve. The Buizel is still in denial over what he was seen happen, inventing wild excuses as to why the world had gone all wrong. Eventually he would come to accept what horrible thing had happned to him after the mourning had been allowed to run its course but until then his behavior made him dangerous and unpredictable; a liability.
Veir looks up at Zhen, the Weavile's bandaged face perfectly impassive though he looks on edge from the nearby prescence of other scavengers.
They would have to find a safe den for the night and swiftly if they wanted to live to see the next morning.
"Zhen, we need to go and find shelter now. This Buizel's coming with us."
Even he was going to be trouble everyone deserved a chance and if he tried something too stupid then the little Cubone knew Zhen would always step in to protect him.

The Weavile's red feathered ears faltten against his head as he turns, keeping an eye on the scavengers that crowd around the fringes of their little clearing. Their red eyes gleam as he does and Zhen hisses at them like an angry cat to express his displeasure.
They back away, not wanting to involve themselves with a powerful undead for such a small scrap of meat but they continue lurking around the edges to see if they can snag a bite when Zhen begins to eat.
A bold one, recognizable as a Poochyena despite the decay to its face, edges one ragged paw towards Veir. Zhen leaps towards it, lacerating its faded grey-purple hide with the hooks of his claws and it flees whimpering but the other undead have seen and begin to get a little bolder.
Zhen splays his bloody claws and hisses at them again.
No thoughts run through his mind but instinctively he knows it won't be long before they try to attack en masse and he'll have to fight hard to protect the little Cubone.

Veir blinks his dark eyes in surprise. It's actually a good idea even if it was from a pokemon being possessive over a near un recognizable lump of skull.
"Zhen, we're getting out of here.” He says to the tall Dark Type and raises one club of bone menacingly towards the black shadows lurking around the clearing.
Breathing in deeply he focuses himself for the coming battle.
Red eyes gleam at him as saliva dripping jaws open wide. One bite, that was all it took for them to get you. All it took was one bite for them to take Zhen away from him...
His eyes flash with anger as Veir opens his mouth and blows out a icy gust of chilled air. One yelping canine is caught and nearly frozen, making the other undead edgy as Veir lets Zhen sling him over his shoulders and they start to run.

Zhen hisses again at the undead as Veir breathes icy cold air at them. His decayed mind can't recall how he instructed the little Cubone in that move only that as Veir started to run his little legs would be too slow.
Instead Zhen scoops him up and puts him on his back, the weight of the little ground type settling firmly around his shoulders as the brown leather satchel bounced with every step.
His claws outstretched he charged at his enemy and slashed at them violently with steely claws.
Bone shattered, dark dead blood splurted as Zhen lashed out at his enemies. Teeth dug into his legs but the undead Weavile was long past the stage where he felt any pain from such a wound.
He reached down and dug his claws into his attackers eyes and tore them from his legs, flinging the now blinded undead straight into a pack of its fellows.
Veir's short clawed fingers tightly gripped the red fringe of Zhen's crest as the agile Dark Type leaped through the undead, sewing a path of bloody destruction.

Raising the splintered club of bone Veir bought it down hard on the head of approaching undead Poochyena leaping towards Zhen’s back. It sinks into the rotted decaying skull with a sickening squelch, pulping the brain below and causing the feral hunger in the red eyes to be snuffed out instantly. The canine’s leap is cut off and it tumbles clumsily to the ground, rotting legs snapping underneath it as it rolls head over heels and knocks over another one of its pack.
Now the dark furred dogs leap to full attack mode, each one darting desperately forwards in an attempt to take a bite of living flesh. Some remnants of their rotting minds drill into them the instincts of hunting in a pack and they attack from all sides. His dark eyes gleaming in the eyes of his bone helm Veir holds on tight to Zhen for protection. The rounded ends of his bone club are dripping with mingled blood and less pleasant fluids as he exhales another icy chilled breath onto the slavering pack. He can barely see through the constant movement of the pack homing in on them. The Buizel’s delirium has not affected his ability to fight to Veir’s relief, after a bone-snapping Brick Break the weasel-like water type burrowed underneath the ground and avoided the pack altogether. Completely surrounded the little ground type clung close to Zhen’s sickly scented fur and lashed out at anything that moved as the undead part of Zhen came out completely.

A bloody red path of spilled organs and limp bodies marked where Zhen had passed through. The vacancy faded from his one visible eye to show the bright gleaming red of nightmare. His steely claws plunged out against and again to rend and tear at flesh as his hungry jaws gaped wide against the bandages. He did not aim to kill but to tear and wound and mutilate until each claw was as bright red as his feathery crest. One Poochyena’s clawed paw tore at the bandages of his mouth, causing the loops of soiled white cloth to slip and reveal the Ice Type’s true face.
A thick crust of yellowy pus ran along the thick gouge marks of red among the bright white of the scars. The dark grey fur here was bristly and sparse. Where it still grew at all it grew at strange angles from his rippled skin. His ravenous jaws opened wide with fangs as sharp as razor blades shining against the purple black of his dead gums and the cat-like he hissed at his prey as his fur bristled all over his body. His Metal Claw flayed the skin from one Mightyena’s back, leaving a large patch of the monochrome fur dangling loose as his path through the undead came to stand-still. Zhen can no longer feel the weight of the Cubone on his back or the cry of alarm from the little Ground Type as his guardian leans over. All there was now was the hunger burning inside him. The Weavile sinks his teeth into the back of one of his attackers, driving his fangs straight through the vertebrae of the canine’s spine before tossing the dog aside to lacerate a fresh victim.

As bone crunches and blood stains the ground behind Zhen a bright red the Cubone holds on tightly to the tall weavile's back and buries his face in the red feather-like frill that extended from the top of the ice/ark type's head. His help is no longer needed, anything that approaches his guardian is cruelly shredded and splattered all over the ground. Zhen's feet as bright red as his crest from walknigm through it. Without the white bandages covering his face Zhen looks like something out of a nightmare and the little cubone whimpers and covers his his face, hoping that the killing anger of an undead soon fade from his only parent. The splintered length of bone, still dripping with the transparent fluids of brain, is carefully tucked in at his side as Veir tries to get through to Zhen. The pack is scattered, the only poochyena he can see now are the headless torn corpses and the occasional limping creature trying to escape. Zhen darts over to them and cuts off their heads too.
"Zhen..." He says softly, the fervour of his guardian's attacks worrying him. "Zhen it's o.k. now."

The weavile can't hear the cubone at all through the feeling of his own rampage. Claws cut flesh, snap bone, break bodies again and again and again. No thoughts run through his mind, just the simple repetive pleasure of killing. His red eyes gleam like two evil stars as he cuts and mutilates with claws of steel. Unguarded some attacks reach his body, leaving the long dead corpse to bleed sluggishly from the open wounds as he continues to cut and kill at will. His mouth hangs open, panting ferally with each new slice. The sprays of red have coated the pus yellow of his open wounds and drips along the ridges of each scar, dripping into his mouth and onto his curled tongue. He was hungry and he wanted to kill. The two primal instincts boosted by the virus running rampant through his body control him like a puppet as the tall Weavile cuts a bloody swathe through the pack of weaker undead.
Finally he runs out of targets to cut with his claws, knee deep in spilled intestines. The Weavile's red eyes cast around for a few moments before his hunger overtakes him. Grabbing the nearest corpse in his red-stained paws Zhen drags it towards him and begins to gorge.

Veir settles down nervously against the Weavile's back as the sounds of crunching bones and tearing flesh reach his ears. He tries to avoid looking over at Zhen's meal, scared of attracting the large Dark Type's attention. Zhen didn't often get like this and whenever he did it was always to protect Veir but...the little Cubone was very scared. Without the bandages overing the deep scars in Zhen's mutilated face and with blood dripping from his sharp toothed jaws the kind Weavile who had taken him in from the cold and softly played him to sleep with the flute seemed further away than ever.
"Zhen..." He says softly with a whimper, hoping that the Weavile will snap out of it soon. His fingers are starting to hurt from how tightly he is gripping the Ice Type's dark fur.
"Zhen..." He says again, lightly shaking the Weavile's shoulders. Zhen turns around suddenly, blood matting the fur around his mouth as both ruby red eyes are turned towards the direction of the pull, twisted lips drawn back from dark gums in a snarl. Still clinging tight to Zhen's shoulder Vier is afraid that the sound of his frantic heart beat will give him away. With a wordless growl the undead Weavile retunrs to gorging himself on the rotting flesh, snapping bones to suck the marrow from inside them.

Inside a cold clinging fog that prevented thoughts from forming Zhen is suspended, nothing but brutal instinct causing his body to move. Slowly he feels his mind fade further, the virus taking him over nearly completely as his mouth is filled with the cold dead flesh of the already dead. His body didn't care, it only cared about satisfying its hunger but as the animal urge to consume was steadily sated the ability to think slowly came back to him. His motions slowed, flesh passing less swiftly past his lips as he began to feel full. The viceral act of rending flesh began to lose its savour and at the edge of hearing Zhen begins to hear a sound. It is hissing and disjointed, almost painful to the ear but it sounds familiar.
As Zhen stops eating all together he realizes it is the sound of a bone flute, played rather poorly but nevertheless there is rythm in the falling notes. His mind searches around for something to connect the sound with and comes up with the smiling face of a Cubone.
Vier.
Zhen stops eating all together, drawing the bandages back over his scarred face as he once again becomes a silent emtionless shadow of a protector.
Vier...He had to defend Vier.

Blood had speckled the bandages of white as they had hung from the Weavile's face. Soon it would fade to a light brown stain like all of the blood marks on Zhen's bandages...
The emotionless red gleam of the Weavile's one visible eye is far from reassuring. More than anything right now Vier wants Zhen to hug him like he used to, to smile and hold him and just be happy.
But Vier's had to get used to the fact that things like that don't happen any more.
Even if Zhen was still standing there his blank eyes show that he couldn't even tell the little Cubone was scared, let alone know that he wanted comforting.
Tentatively stepping forwards Vier makes his move and wraps his short arms around Zhen's grey furred and bandaged midriff. The musty smell of the Weavile's fur bears a bitter note of decay, yet another reminder of how his father had been taken away from him.
Slowly Zhen's bloodied claws move outwards and Veir fliches as they move towards him.
Carefully Zhen's claws fold around the Cubone's brown skinned back, comfortingly holding him by the shoulders and the Lonely pokemon struggles to hold back his tears as he turns back to the Buizel.
The little Cubone looks at the outstretched paw and smiles beneath his mask of bone.
"Zhen's o.k. now he's eaten." He says, trying to reassure himself as much as the Buizel.

Zhen's mind is once again nothing more but static, a void without coherent thought as he watches and tries to think through the fuzziness that filled his head.
Vier...Vier was close by him.
There is a look in the dark eyes behind the helm of bone that the Weavile thinks he recognizes. Dreamily he tries to search what little of his memories remain to find its meaning. The touch on his fur sparks a memory and his bloodied claws twitch as Zhen laboriously reaches out towards Veir and manages to curl his arms around the Cubone's back.
A flash of memory strikes him; curled up in a stone cave with the flute of bone in his hand and playing a hauntingly beautiful song that echoed through the chill air as the flares of a rainbow aurora painted the starry sky all the colors of a rainbow. He remembered Vier, curled up against his blue-grey fur looking up at him with dark eyes wide with wonder as he had played song after song into the winter dark...
As swiftly as he recalled the memory the picture faded from Zhen's mind and once again the chill emptiness of not thinking fills him.
His claws slip from Vier's shoulders, mind barely hearing the Buizel's words as he slowly stumbles forwards.

((OOC: Skip please, only have phone internet))

Happily Vier takes one of the offered berries, turning it over in his tan palm to examine it closely. It is a naturally formed berry not grown on a farm for commercial purposes and its heart-like shape is rather uneven. There is mark on one side of the fruit where the win has rubbed it against the tree bark but the skin remains unbroken and it smells ripe.
Raising the berry Veir takes a bite and feels the juicy Pecha explode in his mouth as his teeth break the frail skin, causing clear sweet juice to drip from his chin as he tries to get as much of it into his mouth as possible. The soup he’d had back in the human dwelling which can’t have been more than half an hour ago though it feels like days had filled him up but he needed the hydrating sweetness of the berry juice to perk him up. The Cubone doesn’t bother trying to offer the other berry to Zhen who had already…eaten and instead turns his helmet of bone towards the sun. It is slowly but surely coasting downwards towards a sunset. Though all the Buizel’s suggestions were good they would need to find or make a closer by shelter for the night. Looking around Vier catches sight of a clump of trees not too far in the distance. Zhen was a good climber and definitely capable of carrying them up and the small ground type had learned early on that a nest of leaves made a surprisingly comfortable shelter as well as good camouflage.
“Let’s head over to there.” Veir points at the thicket. “We’ll make a shelter for the night then we can get an early start tomorrow.”

The Weavile’s breaths rasp from between his bandages as he watches this conversation with apathy. Sluggish fragments of thought slowly ticking over in his brain cause him to stand close to the little Cubone though he can’t process any of the words being said over the echoes of bloodlust the infection has left in his mind.
The tall Dark Type’s back is bent, his white claws still speckled with drops of red as his featherlike ears listen for the tell-tale signs of an approaching enemy. Though he doesn’t know why Zhen is on edge, feeling like something is going to happen.
He takes a step forwards and the claws of his feet squish on the spilled viscera of one of his undead victims. The virulent red eyes of the Poochyena are still opened wide, rigor mortis freezing a fierce snarl on its face. Blood mats the grey fur around its jaws and for some reason draws his eye to it. A fat bead of red lies suspended at the end of a thickened spike of slicked fur just waiting to drop…
There is a suddenly pressure of one of his hands and Zhen’s concentration is broken. Swiftly his gaze moves away from the corpse to the source of the pressure. At the base of one curved white claw a bronze hand holds on tight.
‘Protect Vier… his mind lethargically supplies.