art/writing contest entry or smth idek

Instructions

so im entering for art AND writing lore for starcrown/aster below hehehe btw starcrown is a they/them and uses starcrown, sc, and aster interchangeably their ref is in the project too yippee i love starcrown okay so basically uhh idk how to start a story - - - quick note: this is set in the objectified universe. objectified is a 14+ horror/sci-fi webcomic inspired by various object shows. if this lore gets taken down by ST im not gonna be surprised. horror and bugs and trypophobia and gore warning, i'm not responsible for nightmares /hj [ FILE LOADING ] / / / - PLEASE WAIT Aster turned to look outside. Something wasn't right. As they stumbled out of bed, they could see their pale red eyes softly glow in the dark, their gems reflecting the pale moonlight. They would need to put contacts in again, but not now. They had stopped for an afternoon nap on their way back from their partner's, no, ex's, house. It couldn't have been that long. But screams were echoing outside. Things did not sound pretty. Starcrown rubbed their eyes, opening the blinds into absolute chaos. They looked down. Left and right, people were running, but there was no visible threat! What could be the case, Aster wasn't too keen on finding out. The nightmarish, almost animalistic screams from an alley SC couldn't see didn't help the case. And then the sirens blared. "This is a warning to all citizens of the Middle Ring. Evacuate the city. Repeat, evacuate the city. Take only the essentials and board a train away from the city as soon as possible. Repeat, evacuate the city." That boded well. Starcrown sighed, packing the one bag they owned with as much as they could fit. Wallet, ID, passport, anything else they felt was needed. In the end, the bag was light. SC had never owned much and never felt the need to take much with them. They had been moving around basically all their life, so they were used to this. Starcrown made their way to the train stop, running and trying not to look in the direction of any screams in case they saw something they would never forget. Then they stopped. An object stumbled out of an alleyway. They were a lava rock, maybe pink salt of some kind, and they were bruised and bloody, the deep red smeared all over their face and limbs. SC ran over, staring at them as they fell to the ground. "A-are you okay?" Starcrown asked, hesitating at first. It felt like they hadn't spoken in years. "Anything I can d-" They were stopped when the stone grabbed their leg, smearing the blood on their ankle. "Run." Was all that came out. Starcrown's senses heightened. They could never help it when this happened. The fox fur sprouting out of their limbs, the ears popping up out of thin air, the feathery antennae unfurling from the inside of their bowl, the tail appearing seemingly out of nowhere, and the worst of it, the secondary AND tertiary sets of arms. But the transformation wasn't without its perks. The smell of carrion, of rotting flesh, of iron. The temperature change. The feeling of wind behind them. The sound of soft panting. Someone, or rather, someTHING, was behind them. Immediately, the wings flew out, and SC turned around to view the threat. Big mistake. The joints came out at odd angles, the body was contorted and poking out and swollen in places that shouldn't have been, there were sores and holes in the skin and maggots crawling everywhere, spilling out of the creature, landing on the floor with a splat. The abomination chittered, not unlike a cricket. And then it lunged. The mantis-like pincers came out of nowhere, and Starcrown had to veer to the left at the last second to dodge. The filthy brown monstrosity had crimson blood caked all over it. And the worst part? There was an object. Not killed by it. Not controlling it. PART. Of it. A playing card, the six of hearts, exactly, was the head. Caked with blood. Faceless. Starcrown stared, horrified, and flew up higher. Five feet, ten feet, fifteen feet, and the higher and higher they flew, the more relieved they felt. But then they remembered the pink stone. No. If they died, or worse, were overtaken by those... parasites, they wouldn't be able to recover or help anyone else. The first thing that came first was their own self-preservation. And from the looks of it, thirty feet in the air above Middle Ring, it looks like things weren't about to let up any time soon. There were fires popping up all over town, screams of horror and disgust and final moments, and the traffic jams on the streets. Nobody was getting out of there. Starcrown stayed in the air until it felt like their wings were going to fall off. By now it was well into the night, and they were tired. With a capital T. They found a nice, safe rooftop to sleep on. Open air just felt right to them, being able to fly away whenever danger was near. It had to be at least two AM now. Did those monsters need to sleep? [+]