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okaywolfTo the monster person prompt by amiserablepileofwords — Monster who got lost in their own maze
Content warning: large insect, descriptions of insect physical features and sounds, implied death, skeleton
If you’d like, y’can look up Scolopendra subspinipes, the centipede I based ‘babe’ on. Kinda like a face-cast situation.
The chittering of the forty metre long glossy dark centipede reflected off of immaculate stone walls, plates of exoskeleton rubbing ridges in escalating frequency until the chittering became indiscernible from a hiss.
“Look, babe, I’m sure you’re not lost lost in the maze.”
Quick serpentine movements rose the hiss’s volume until the frustrated attempts to talk over it quit instead. When ‘babe’ quieted down, the voice emanating from a point roughly above ‘babe’s head and moving with them spoke again.
“Ahuh. Have you tried only making left turns? Or is it right turns?”
The maze is a flat plane of tunnels, large enough for ‘babe’ to move through with ease and intimidating to any intruder. ‘Babe’ reluctantly chitters as they inspect the intentionally nondescript walls.
“It doesn’t work that way? Wait, your maze is magical?”
‘Babe’ sighs out of their many body segments. The wizard that sold them the maze had convinced them into the ‘value add’ of non-Euclidean infrastructure.
“And you never told me.”
The point roughly above ‘babe’s head remains silent for a long while. ‘Babe’ spends the time failing to think of an adequate excuse.
“So every time I came to yours, I could’ve gotten so lost I’d never see the light of day again?”
‘Babe’ now wishes they had spent the time failing to think of an adequate apology. They chitter defiant at the implication they might never see the light of day again.
“You are so lucky I’m so into you, I should be way more upset right now.”
Relieved that their relationship isn’t ending over voice call, ‘babe’ wishes they could be relieved they are no longer lost in the maze that dissuades people from storming their burrow. With an experimental foray down a turn, they happen upon a set of bones they’d rather not. The person they were dating who was currently speaking from a point roughly above their head would have told them—perhaps complained about in the same exasperated manner—if there were the remains of some ‘dissuaded’ person on the very specific route taken to safely reach ‘babe’s burrow. A route ‘babe’ needed to be on and clearly wasn’t.
“Ah, so, is there a wizard you want me to look up or something?”
‘Babe’ resists the urge to skitter in a self-deprecating spiral.
“What do you mean ‘no warrantee, no customer service, DIY install’? Are you kidding me?!?”
amiserablepileofwords — Monster who got lost in their own mazeContent warning: large insect, descriptions of insect physical features and sounds, implied death, skeleton
If you’d like, y’can look up Scolopendra subspinipes, the centipede I based ‘babe’ on. Kinda like a face-cast situation.
The chittering of the forty metre long glossy dark centipede reflected off of immaculate stone walls, plates of exoskeleton rubbing ridges in escalating frequency until the chittering became indiscernible from a hiss.
“Look, babe, I’m sure you’re not lost lost in the maze.”
Quick serpentine movements rose the hiss’s volume until the frustrated attempts to talk over it quit instead. When ‘babe’ quieted down, the voice emanating from a point roughly above ‘babe’s head and moving with them spoke again.
“Ahuh. Have you tried only making left turns? Or is it right turns?”
The maze is a flat plane of tunnels, large enough for ‘babe’ to move through with ease and intimidating to any intruder. ‘Babe’ reluctantly chitters as they inspect the intentionally nondescript walls.
“It doesn’t work that way? Wait, your maze is magical?”
‘Babe’ sighs out of their many body segments. The wizard that sold them the maze had convinced them into the ‘value add’ of non-Euclidean infrastructure.
“And you never told me.”
The point roughly above ‘babe’s head remains silent for a long while. ‘Babe’ spends the time failing to think of an adequate excuse.
“So every time I came to yours, I could’ve gotten so lost I’d never see the light of day again?”
‘Babe’ now wishes they had spent the time failing to think of an adequate apology. They chitter defiant at the implication they might never see the light of day again.
“You are so lucky I’m so into you, I should be way more upset right now.”
Relieved that their relationship isn’t ending over voice call, ‘babe’ wishes they could be relieved they are no longer lost in the maze that dissuades people from storming their burrow. With an experimental foray down a turn, they happen upon a set of bones they’d rather not. The person they were dating who was currently speaking from a point roughly above their head would have told them—perhaps complained about in the same exasperated manner—if there were the remains of some ‘dissuaded’ person on the very specific route taken to safely reach ‘babe’s burrow. A route ‘babe’ needed to be on and clearly wasn’t.
“Ah, so, is there a wizard you want me to look up or something?”
‘Babe’ resists the urge to skitter in a self-deprecating spiral.
“What do you mean ‘no warrantee, no customer service, DIY install’? Are you kidding me?!?”
