ORIGIN

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It had been long since the womb had seen a living, growing chrysalis. And for maybe the first time, what lay nestled in one of the pockets wasnt a darkly iridescent oilstone, hosting a brand new valkhound. Though the chunk of green Kornerupine was oily with the power of His magic all the same.

It was restless, the second it was yanked violently into awareness. It was cramped, choking and drowning and it needed out Out OUT OUT. It flailed out violently, claws punching through a thin crystalline shell. It spilled out, sitting in the remains of what looked like whatd happen if an oil tankard crashed into a china shop.

But it wasnt enough. It wanted to smash those bits to bits! It wanted to destroy every last FRAGMENT of what had tried in vain to contain it. IT WOULD BURN!

Instead, the newly hatched gembound burst into purple-black flames.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!" It shrieked, running around wildly with its hindquarters engulfed in rapidly spreading fire. It bucked, trying to get the fire off, but that was hardly effective.

Looks like this little one is going to be quite the handful.
@Vargas @Vander


Cheshire had made it their personal mission to be present during the most drama-ridden moments, where juicy gossip was shared, blood was spilled, and they could take note and present their Master (or whoever would listen) with all the information they'd gathered.

But this? This was just hilarious.

The owlette watched the hatchling run around like an idiot, yelping in pain with purple-black flames crackling from its rear. If they had tea, they'd sip it, but since they didn't, they just pointed and laughed.

”HAHA!”, they cackled, in lieu of any insult, since a. they didn't know any, and b. they'd been born with a sense of self-preservation, weirdly enough.

Not enough of one to laugh at a baby on fire, of course.

Cheshire, in their defense, couldn't really help. They didn't have hands, nor any sort of useful magic, and even if there was water, they had no way to move it, nor the knowledge that water quenched flames, or that it didn't quench chaotic flames. So they were kind of useless.



- THE LEVIATHAN -


What in the Creator's name-

Enter Vargas stage left, a swift stride and cocked head carrying him toward the squalling sounds. He paused to take in the scene: one child, on purple fire and sprinting around; the other, sitting back and laughing at it. Which--admittedly it was a little hilarious but the kid was on fire, so Vargas's pause didn't last all that long.

Vargas blinked all six eyes and leapt for Rue, trying to get them down and roll them in the old "stop, drop and roll" mantra that probably wasn't even known in these caves anyway.

His leap missed, taking him crashing jaw-first to the floor a few yards in the wrong direction, probably looking like some gigantic predator that had tried, and failed, to catch its prey. Certainly Rue would have a hard time--on fire or not--recognizing his leap as friendly. Thankfully Nemean is not here, Vargas thought, grimly; she'd have broken out the clown music, by now.

"HOLD STILL," he bellowed, lifting a hand to rub his bleeding jaw. "GET DOWN AND ROLL!"

Not off to a great start at all.


@Rue (lol whoops)
The creator must be proud, with the sheer amount of chaos this hatchling created just minutes after bursting out of it's gemstone prison. The hatchling itself, however, was rife with emotions, the strongest of which was rage. How DARE it's magic do this? How DARE that dumb little bird laugh at it? It paused in it's frantic running just long enough to growl at Cheshire.

And then a massive purple shape lept at it. It snarled, jumping back to ignore the beast. Though evidently it didn't need to, as it had crashed to the ground some distance away. The beast then roared something at it, which it responded to with a roar-bark.

Thoroughly done with being on fire, the hatchling attempted to grab at the fire. Not with it's own body, of course, but with the same magic that had summoned the fire in the first place. The fire would peel from the hatchling's haunches like a sticker, and then, as if with (definitely) malicious intent, the fire would shoot towards Cheshire. It would be easy to avoid for such an agile creature, unless they were still preoccupied with laughing at it's pain.

Regardless, the hatchling grinned- both with relief from the pain and satisfaction at it's successful display of chaotic arson.

@Vargas @Cheshire


Cheshire wheezed as Vargas arrived, slapping their wings over their mouth to stifle their laughter when he unfortunately tripped and fell. Him falling wasn't funny at all! They even showed a bit of worry before they were suddenly thrown into danger.

A squawk left their mouth as they threw themselves to the ground, flames licking at the air they'd once occupied. They let out a breath of relief and pushed themselves back up, wings flapping wildly to regain their balance. Flight would come eventually, but for now they were stuck as a bumbling owlette with soft, cute feathers and a "dashing" smile.

”Master?”, they hooted, slowly inching their way behind him, putting him between this flaming baby and themselves, ”What now?”

That was perhaps the most coherent thing they'd said since their hatching. The baby wasn't on fire, so there wasn't anything to laugh at, and they were curious to see what he'd do in reaction to it flinging flames at them. Nothing? Would it punish it? Would he berate or punish both of them?

Not gonna tag vargas since rue already did
Garnet-Epsilon



Oh. Oh dear.

Now, the small hybrid isn't sure they're welcome here, so to speak, but it seems that with two corrupted hatchlings and their proclivity for fire, any paws on hand are going to be needed. So, having kept an eye on Master Vargas as they'd remained in Draco, they are witness to the whole thing, and has to bite down hard on their tongue to keep from snickering at the whole scene.

"Hello, Master Vargas-"

Fire arcing towards the other hatchling, though, makes a spike of anxiety concern flush their face and ears bright blue as they dive in, and land with a bounce near the owl... thing. By proxy also near Master Vargas, but they seem preoccupied with checking over the fluffy youngling before flapping once to almost leap over near the other and look them over as well.

"Is... everyone alright, then?" The hybrid asks, turning to aim both ears and an eye towards the Master, but keeping one on Rue. "Shall I fetch you something for that, Master?"

@Cheshire
@Rue
@/ Vargas /


- THE LEVIATHAN -


It seemed Nemean didn't need to be here--he had quite the little crowd. Luckily, those present seemed too loyal to even mock him for smashing face-first into the rock, not that he minded; humor was most certainly allowed. Hell, in his day, he'd have laughed at him. "I am fine," he offered, briefly assuring them, and turned his attention on the child.

Strong enough to fling that fire outward, if not quite controlled, and Vargas gave a huff of a laugh. "A vicious thing, isn't it?" he mused. "You-; can you speak?" he asked it, a more direct question. He didn't rush at it again (there was no need to, now) but kept a few yards distance, fully aware of the LOOMING effect his own close presence could unintentionally have.

A nod, to the other two, then--"It is good that you both are here." Why, he didn't say, but apparently, it was a good thing.


@Rue
Now that it wasn't running around wildly and half-consumed by corrupted fire, it was possible to get a good look at the creature. It was roughly the size of a waterbuck calf, and it had all the spindly awkwardness of a newborn calf, compounded by how long it's legs were. Its fur was dark with the youthful coloration of a maned wolf pup, though the fact that it had set itself on fire moments prior probably contributed to this. Little nubs on it's forehead hinted at horns, and the sparks of color haphazardly lighting up it's fur meant that it had inherited at least some of it's lifegiver's mutations. Overall it was a child, oversized ears and eyes, covered in a scruffy, messy coat of fluff.

A child with murderous intent.

It growled, teeth snapping at the massive nasty purple thing and it's snack-sized companions. Most of the chatter seemed to go right over it's head, but it did seem to understand when it was being spoken at, at least. It's ears perked (or at least the best they could, as floppy and oversized as they were) as it stared at Vargas for a couple moments. Then it opened it's mouth.

And a pool of oil flooded onto the floor.

"Ghhrogrl.." It gurgled, seeming surprised even at itself. "GHRLGRRWL!" It spat a bit more onto the floor- this time more spit than oil. "Gwrh... Sp-ee-k, Vi-cious th-ing." Surprisingly clear and coherent for something that appeared to be casually drowning in it's own oil. It's claws scratched restlessly at the floor, and it's gaze drifted from Vargas to his companions.

It's hungry gaze landed on the disappointingly uncooked owlet. It thought about trying again, but the idea of setting itself on fire again didn't sound very appealing. It contented itself with watching the flickering images of violent destruction in it's peripherals.

@Chesire


Cheshire hissed softly at it, jaws clicking together as the owlette watched their fellow hatchling with keen eyes, observing. But they were distracted by Garnet-Epsilon, staring at them instead as they looked them over.

”Not hurt,” they said shortly, waddling around them to continue staring at the clumsy little mess (not that they were much better) in front of them.

They looked up at Vargas, feathers puffing up happily. Of course it was good they were here. Cheshire was a good owlette, a good little Messenger. Now if they could hurry up and learn to fly already, they could be fluttering up to land upon his shoulder - a rock instead of having to walk everywhere. Ugh.

”Vicious thing!!”, they parroted, bobbing their head up and down excitedly, ”That name?”

Oh they hoped it was it's name! 'Vicious Thing' was a good name!

@Garnet-Epsilon