Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2021 7:33:41 GMT -6
It was not unusual for The Smoker to wander. Without a realm of its own, It bothers those that do, and sometimes, it finds a stranger within the fog that separates these places. It is not a kind creature by nature. It reacts to clean flesh with a vicious rage, lashing out at survivors in and out of trials. Or at least, it had when it first arrived. In the real world, it was an agent of the green flu, carved out of the remains of a man. It had one job; spread the infection through any means. There was no time to stop, no time for simple pleasures. But even within its stupor it knows that things aren’t right, that the teeth it sinks into the survivors does not spill its sickness into their blood. In the back of its mind, it knows they come back. Its job has changed, but it’s unaware of why or how. This leads to frustration, which leads to it mellowing out, in a strange way. No reason to spend energy on outright attacking something when there’s no reason to. For the first time in its short life, The Smoker has time for simple pleasures.
..Which, it has not yet figured out how to spend said time efficiently. So it wanders, And then sometimes, it finds a stranger. Most are too loud, they scare it off too easy, and yet others do not acknowledge its presence. It’s never met the stranger in front of it before. The smell of clean flesh and blood is almost nauseating, and it's then that it knows that they do not belong to the same faction. The Smoker is too timid to approach, but its curiosity is insatiable, so it opts to stand a few yards away from the man. It’s not called the strangled for no reason, seemingly, because its gasping and choking almost instantly tells the man that he now has an audience, its twisted form situated between the trees behind him. Hi.
..Which, it has not yet figured out how to spend said time efficiently. So it wanders, And then sometimes, it finds a stranger. Most are too loud, they scare it off too easy, and yet others do not acknowledge its presence. It’s never met the stranger in front of it before. The smell of clean flesh and blood is almost nauseating, and it's then that it knows that they do not belong to the same faction. The Smoker is too timid to approach, but its curiosity is insatiable, so it opts to stand a few yards away from the man. It’s not called the strangled for no reason, seemingly, because its gasping and choking almost instantly tells the man that he now has an audience, its twisted form situated between the trees behind him. Hi.