Radio audio, evening.

[firstsoldier]

[It's that guy again! He still sounds pleasant at least.]

I wish to make a suggestion that we find ways to make ourselves... visibly identifiable even when in monstrous forms, as members of the convoy and thus ideally not a marauding wild beast even if we are acting like one. Something beyond our often hidden sigils, that an unthinking creature is unlikely to imitate. What exactly, I am open to recommendations for. I suspect friend-or-foe ID chips might be beyond what this place is capable of.

[The rest sounds extremely reluctant.]

I don't have as much control of the ... thing ... I become as I would like, and though I am reasonably sure I can keep from doing serious intentional harm to allies, I can't guarantee my behavior might not match that of a feral creature and thus seem to be a viable target for hunting. Especially as it seems intent on establishing a ... pecking order, and aggressively.

... I suspect I'm not the only one who has such concerns. These changes are uncomfortably unpredictable.

Comments

[bufudine]

[Serph matches the watchful gaze with his own calm one.]

But blood makes it difficult to keep control?

[He knows all too well how blood whets his demon's alreadly insatiable appetite. How the scent of it has Varuna rattling in the cage of his body, the vision of teeth sinking into warm flesh crystal clear in his mind's eye. As hunger grows, so too does the strength to resist it wane.

Carefully, he watches Sephiroth's reaction to his following question.]

Does the thought of eating other monsters sound good?

[firstsoldier]

It does. A shameful thing. We are not beasts.

[The war between foreign instinct and the reason and control required since he was a small child is endless, merely easier when in a more human shape. It never really went away but like this, even the idea of a meal is an incredible temptation.

More of one than he can actually resist; Sephiroth might refuse to follow changed biology that demanded a carnivore's diet, but like this, concerns such as morality and not being a monster were distinctly harder to care about. Nothing's changed, and yet the idea isn't a revolting one. He should. The evening is early yet.]

It's best to ... not think about it.

[But the mostly black creature is already getting back to its feet with languid, easy grace, turning from the convoy with a low, interested rumble. Blugu were plentiful but annoyingly spiky, but there were always other things near the water's edges. He'll just have to find it.]

[bufudine]

[Strange.

With Sephiroth's poise and cool, collected mannerisms, Serph did not expect that Sephiroth would reject the idea of eating monsters so strongly. If one must devour, it is only a function of the body's needs to survive. If one does not feed the body, then both mind and body deteriorates.

Perhaps his next words may sound familiar; when Serph had left the realm of dreams and returned to the land of the waking, he could still recall snatches of his conversation with Sephiroth in both Nirvanas.]

When a monstrous body requires a monstrous diet, what separates us from the monsters is how we choose to inflict the price of our ongoing survival.

[He keeps his gaze on Sephiroth, even as he begins to turn away.]

There is no shame in choosing to survive.

[firstsoldier]

[Hypocrisy is one of his strong suits. While he felt strongly that others should be judged by their actions and not by their species, willing to extend that mercy without hesitation once he was sure they weren't about to go berserk, for himself.. there was no such leniency. It preyed upon fears he'd thought he'd overcome years ago.

He couldn't pretend anymore, not when he had fangs and claws to go with the eyes that had always been strange. And he was so hungry, stubbornly sticking to a diet he could no longer make use of. The idea of eating things that were once people was revolting. And also terribly alluring. The rest of him knew what he had to eat; it needed to be meat, and it was best fresh.]

Isn't there?

[He knows his own words. That's a grace he can extend to Serph, so obviously still a man for all that he's changed. Rational, clearheaded, reasonable. He wasn't, anymore. Expressions are difficult on a creature with few facial muscles to speak of, but it seems to be an unwelcome topic.

Scaled, inhuman hands are studied with one eye, head tilted birdlike as long talons are flexed slowly.]

I am what I have been raised to destroy. I must look like one. I refuse to act like one.

[bufudine]

[Raised to destroy monsters? In a way, that would mean Sephiroth is becoming the enemy, in his mind.]

Denying sustenance will make you weak with hunger. You cannot control the monster when starving.

[People are free to do as they wish, but he is concerned about the damage Sephiroth could cause if he continues to refuse to devour. There have been other Drifters who didn't know their monster's diet and attacked others. He doesn't want an incident where there are lasting consequences.

Sephiroth had mentioned that his ability to maintain control may be hindered in the presence of blood. Serph raises his hand, the Water Crown glowing.]

Do I need to demonstrate?

[In a place like this, avoiding blood will be impossible. Best to make his point clear while he is available than someone else getting blindsided by a starving monster.]

[firstsoldier]

[Even if much else is a confusion of disparate instincts pulling in different directions, all of him knows a challenge when he hears it. It starts up an odd rattling noise, a muffled buzzing somewhere beneath dark fur and feathers as the chimera turns slowly on one taloned foot to face Serph again. Many people might recognize the warning of a rattlesnake, but people from the Junkyard?]

I'm as strong as I need to be.

[There are different kinds of strength than brute power, which he's always had more than his fill of. Sheer force of will has kept him from indulging in the desperate ravenous hunger of a monster that knows it's starving and doesn't want to die with a full stomach of food it simply can't process anymore.

Blood made it so much harder. His own, his target's, it didn't matter. He'd kept the shameful fraying of his own control carefully under wraps, and he didn't much want to test it now.

But backing down also wasn't an option, not when so blatantly confronted. It's a struggle alone not to adopt a more threatening and dominant stance, also the actions of a beast, but he can't quite suppress the agitated rattling sound.]

You may test the assumption of my weakness at your leisure.

[bufudine]

[While he doesn't recognise the sound of a rattlesnake's warning, what Serph does recognise is a reflex, an instinct, of the monster that Sephiroth doesn't have full control over.

It isn't usually Serph who goads others with barbed words, but with the possibility of his comrades' lives being put in danger by Sephiroth's denial of himself, Serph will open Sephiroth's eyes to what must be done whether he wants it or not.]

It is weakness to deny reality.

[The brand on Serph's face glows, lines spreading across his body as he speaks.]

Do you truly believe you can maintain control by avoiding blood in this land?

[Even without blood, it is evident to him that control is fraying.]