Madhukar heard a clack that caught her eyes and she shifted to see it, like a glimmering beetle on the ground. Had that come from...? She glanced back at the stone before shuffling over to claim the gem. Gingerly, with one paw she upheld it by the cord and... well it wasn't so much admiration as it was staring as if into blank space. Her mind was still abuzz, adrift — would this help, somehow? Would this stop it all? Without, perhaps, enough thought — she slipped it on.
For a moment all she felt was weight on her collarbone. Then — stop. Everything but her, every pulse and breath, halting all at once. Except her own. Except her own. The moment was so brief Madhukar felt as if it might have been some dream, some glitch in her system, but... it felt like magic. It looked like magic. If Madhukar, of all people, knew anything about magic, then this was definitely it. Magic. Her paw wavered over the minute jewel like a phantom touch.
She tried to make it happen again. Several times, she tried, and each time it seemed she succeeded. Did anyone notice? (Could it even be called magic if she was actually in control of it?) Madhukar looked around. She felt... too visible, even while covered in moss and mud— but that was beside the point. If anyone was around, they hadn't shifted, hadn't suspected anything. It was just... free time. Undisturbed, and by the third or fourth try, Madhukar was beginning to find... a peace in it.
She looked at the stone, eyes shielded by her mask, splintered and worn. Her hand still hovered above the stone.
~*~
She came back the next day, this time when she was certain no one was watching. She thought of making a storm to cover her image before realizing that, given the request she was about to make, perhaps not. That meant being bare was unavoidable. But the stone had... tried to help her, she figured. It was a stone. Not a person. It wouldn't remember her or chase her down or — it was a helpful stone. Maybe it could help her with this. She had to try.
She laid her mask before the stone and shook and wiped the old plantation away. Most of the mud would remain until she had a shower. That was fine, she had gotten used to the discomfort. The one thing she did not remove was her amulet — that would have felt, almost, ungrateful. She reached out and touched the stone again, just a light touch.
They sighed ever so quietly as Toboggan forgot to use his non-Ursa, in-places-with-other-inhabitants-who-already-know-you're-there voice. They followed closely so that he wouldn't rupture his lungs trying to make sound waves reach them at, heaven forbid, a distance. And, perhaps predictably, his first concern was the health of, you guessed it, the Rock. The Weird Rock. Vasil watched with silent intrigue in response, letting Toboggan do his thing, letting their own facial expressions answer his question and concern succinctly: narrowed eyes ('no. it's a rock.'), then furrowed brows ('maybe not.'), then a softer, thoughtful gaze at the stone ('maybe.
After Toboggan had finished with... whatever his ritual was, Vasil stared for a moment at the stone. Sized it up, you could say. Estimated its surface area or whatever. They figured they could keep pondering this
@Toboggan
Could the creature have finally learned to regulate its volume? Had it finally realized its family was one short a member, their return impossible due to being fetid oil and bone?
None of these. The observant and those attuned to its unusual moods would have likely pinpointed the issue right away, taking note of the quiver of antennae and the occasional siren pitch whimper that left primary and tail-bound mouths. Though its thought process remained as alien as they came, hurt the same as happiness in its confused mind, some responses remained understandable no matter how strange their cause might be: this one, plain distress that could only be more blatant if the monster had tear ducts to express its whining upset better with.
The Wishing Stone was not an ugly crystal; bright and cycling through many colors, it was the sort of fun and fascinating thing that the monster was sure Creo, if they'd tagged along instead of remained on the beach, would've enjoyed as much as it did. No, the problem lay in the friendly thing's voice. The chiming too gentle to properly listen to, the strain was driving Karambit up a figurative wall, enough that it was sorely inclined to start demanding that the little rock be more polite and start screeching warm sentiments to its mind instead of whispering them.
A shame, as it was clearly trying to be a kind rock. Maybe once it granted a wish, Karambit would give it the gift of proper speech lessons in return.
Krrrmmmmm... Therrree's bessstest frrriend that I want to be eeevvven besssterrr bestesst frrriieend. Like meee and Terrrorrr and Crrreeeo. But extrrra close and morrree biting.
Flashes of imagery were shoved to the Wishing Stone through the tentacle that Karambit had wrapped around it. Tinged red by bloodlust—or rather a gore-strewn variety of lovesickness—a single character featured in them, distinguished by its twisted limbs and halo of horns. Though not entirely unique, an imperfect clone of an agent of chaos itself, this was what the monster considered malformed perfection. Each fault it had made it ever more gorgeous to behold.
Togetherrr we could do annnything! And evvverrrything! I'm surrreee of it.
But...no. The Forge was where it belonged. It would have no purpose otherwise. It was created to serve and serve it would. So when the stone promised it a nemesis, a chance to gain some respect, it perked up and stood.
*exit
Wilder returned to the stone the next day, having mulled things over in her den, during her sleep, but she still struggled with it all. The memory had been a lot and a lot to handle. She felt like she was, again, splitting at the seams, and she came to the Wishing Stone today with another request, if it allowed for more.
There was still a crowd there, a different one, but evidently word had gotten around. Wilder crouched next to the stone but didn't voice her thoughts, just letting them stream through her mind for the stone to hear.
All at once, the pain seemed to dull. It faded in the way drinking cool water helped bolster her against the stifling fever and soothe her prickling skin, even if it was only a temporary relief. Some of that ever-present irritability and urge to (violently) act on it fell away, to be replaced with... something in her mind.
She wanted to immediately be wary of the presence, but the things drifting over the link now weren't the bright, stinging pain and tidal wave of despair she'd gotten from the other magic rock she'd had a mental link with, or the primitive fear from the cave rat she'd used her magic on before. It was confident, reassuring, gentle, and though chaotic instinct should have told her to distrust and hunt down this unfamiliar thing, all she could feel as a hazy vision bloomed and scurrying grey feet came into view was relief. She bent her neck and gently nudged the Echoing Grey as it scampered up her leg, as if to confirm that it was really there. It only blinked, seemingly unfazed by the gaping, empty hole of a face.
Her magic was still of chaos. The sickness and nightmares would stay--but they seemed to loom less, to be less of a wall of despair nothing could breach. At least now, there would be someone by her side. Someone who cared for her, who would support her and reassure her and offer its own vision to pierce through the hallucinations.
Aethereal wandered off in a daze, almost shell-shocked by the sudden introduction of hope and warmth into a solitary life, acquiescing without much thought to Scars' advice that she find something to eat and drink. Curiosity only came the next day, something suddenly remembered and realized. Who was this little rock, who appeared so suddenly and apparently had powerful enough magic to grant the wishes of all the Gembound who came to visit? Who was this little rock, who was so much kinder and gentler and unassuming than the two towering, merciless Spires?
She hunched into a sitting position and placed two front paws onto the singing rock, her wish this time not something for herself but gratitude accompanied by a gentle inquiry:
Who are you, friend? Where did you come from?
And because she couldn't not ask:
Do you know these Spires? followed by a rat's vision of the one in Polaris, and the vague impression of something similar but black in Draco.
Today, Maximus arrived with a clear wish in mind. They saw Aethereal and worried for just a moment, Vargas' warning still clear in their mind to this day. However, they didn't think they'd done anything inherently wrong. They hadn't interacted with the others, and neither were they sure if Aethereal was even part of the Chaos Forge. Not all Valkhounds were, themselves being one of them.
Maximus laughed bitterly and drew their hand away, swallowing gently.
(ooc: i asked don if i could wish this and they said yea!)
The Sentinel's arrival came with zero fanfare. He came at a time when no one else was present; he would likely leave unseen. He made his way to the stone, and pressed his black-clawed hand to it, and considered.
He'd fought without clothing, without armor, for cycles now; and despite his haphazard search (whenever he had time free), he'd never been able to find anything that would fit him, nor had he been able to find that fabled Blacksmith. So he came here, now, on the offchance that the stone could grant him what he wished:
He spoke his desire, empty of any real urgency, though there was some hope in it. He wanted something lightweight, but protective. Something that would match his hide, and offer real defense. Nothing fancy... but something useful.
Would it give him that?
Toboggan's boundless enthusiasm was met with cheerful chiming from the Wishing Stone. His request was met with a softening of the chiming--not disappointed, or sad, but rather almost thoughtful. Granted, the Stone was simply a rock, with a little bit of magic, but still the request seemed to be carefully considered.
The pup received, suddenly and in a rush of wind that blew his fur back in a little whack, the knowledge of a new spell: a magic that could take him in sweeping rushes of air that would speed his travel just the way he'd (hopefully) like.
Toboggan receives: Pickup.
OOC reward:
Snail has won their choice of a Tier Two reward, and may claim any one of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: Medium Spell Borrow, 500 Magicka, or Lost Stone (Guaranteed Revive, Hybrid Animal, GM-Rolled)
Vasil's desire was met with a sort of oops, and again though the Wishing Stone was not truly sentient, there was a faintly creeping sense of guilt. Had the stone somehow misstepped, giving the hapless, potentially accident-prone puppy the means to harm himself-? Hastily, the Wishing Stone reached its magic through the caves, sifting and delving until it found what it was looking for: the magic of an icy creature resting in deep waters, a magic that could mend Toboggan's wounds through Vasil's direction.
Vasil receives: Blessing of Pisces.
OOC reward:
YspobDon has won their choice of a Tier Four reward, and may claim any one of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: Specialty Spell of choice, Rare Character Slot (RCS), Guaranteed surface item from Gemini Rift (GM chosen), GM-designed Valkhound or Order Drone (player choice)
Madhukar was met with a sort of cheerful chime, a sound of almost recognition. The Wishing Stone flashed and pulsed; it was no tailor, but perhaps it could find one. Somewhere. Somehow. Though it wasn't familiar with Madhukar's specific costume (being a stone, and all) it did plop down, just beside her, a useful little tool: a briefcase, black, a little worn but still perfectly serviceable. It was not, however, empty; a little manipulation of the latches would pop the briefcase open to reveal several sets of clothing that could fit Madhukar: from a little tuxedo, to a clown's costume, to a ragged witch-like hooded cloak, to a dress. With pockets! In a side pouch of the briefcase's interior, too, was a little sewing kit, complete with patches--though it was quite possible that its use might not initially be clear to a cat who'd never seen one.
Madhukar receives: Costume Case.
Ahh, the deep pangs of love. (Sort of.) Sympathy thrummed through the Wishing Stone's song at poor Karambit's lament. But this, at least, would be an easy fix. At least, it might seem so to a Stone. Karambit, the stone seemed to whisper, should find the one they cherished, and share with them this magic, so that they could share everything! It was a wonderful gift, really. The Stone had no idea, of course, just how strange the reason for Karambit's love. 'More biting' did not seem to factor in. Karambit would, regardless of all that, be granted the ability to link itself to what the Stone seemed to assume was its happy partner.
Karambit receives: Sensorial Link.
OOC reward:
Nemesis has won their choice of a Tier One reward, and may claim any of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: Low Spell Borrow, 300 Magicka, Lost Stone (Guaranteed Revive, Earth Animal, GM-Rolled)
Wilder, as with other return visitors, seemed to be greeted with something akin to recognition--or at least a happy chime from the Wishing Stone. Her wish, however, left its song a little saddened. It seemed to consider, the golden hues across its stone particularly prevalent for a few moments. And it took longer than it had before, and longer than it had with others, for Wilder's request was a difficult one indeed. A simple familiar would not truly understand Wilder; and indeed she could already create a simple companion out of light and magic. Nor could the Wishing Stone force another to befriend her. But... knowledge came to Wilder, thoughtful, in streams of humming emotion. So many who have visited the Wishing Stone have been lonely, and sought friends of their own. Any of them could be your friend. You could be a friend to many. Yet, perhaps the Wishing Stone could still help? It could, at the very least, open the door for Wilder: make it easier to take that first step, to be greeted with a friendly face. Yes--this magic would, the Stone seemed to hope, help.
Wilder receives: Charm.
OOC reward:
Jaymie has won their choice of a Tier Two reward, and may claim any one of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: Medium Spell Borrow, 500 Magicka, or Lost Stone (Guaranteed Revive, Hybrid Animal, GM-Rolled)
Aethereal, too, was greeted with almost affection, though the Wishing Stone soon made its nature more easily known. It did not seem to be capable of answering; in fact it almost seemed unaware of its own existence. It was a rock; it was magical, in some way, but though it responded to the desires of others, it seemed to hold no knowledge or wishes of its own. Still, Aethereal's company seemed to elicit happy notes in its song, and bright magenta streaks of shifting color. But its history, and knowledge, remained silent; purely because it did not know.
Aethereal Receives: the friendly company of the Wishing Stone
OOC reward:
Cicada has won their choice of a Tier Three reward, and may claim any one of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: High Spell Borrow, 1000 Magicka, Uncommon Character Slot (UCS), Lost Stone (Alien/Valkhound, GM-Designed, Guaranteed Revive), High Intensity Non-Elemental Spell (Sensorial Link, Familiar Forge, Affix Dye, Enchant), or Mutation Slot
Maximus, too, was met with cheerful chiming, with streaks of gold and reddish color across the stone. Maximus's desire, however, was met with a sort of puzzlement. To find a stranger not-here, and find out what they wished when they were not-here, would be difficult. But after a time, Maximus was met with a sense of affirmation. The stone, it seemed, would try to figure something out--as best a Wishing Stone could.
Maximus receives: a future gift sent to Khavur.
OOC reward:
Charlie has won their choice of a Tier Three reward, and may claim any one of the following for ANY of their characters in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel: High Spell Borrow, 1000 Magicka, Uncommon Character Slot (UCS), Lost Stone (Alien/Valkhound, GM-Designed, Guaranteed Revive), High Intensity Non-Elemental Spell (Sensorial Link, Familiar Forge, Affix Dye, Enchant), or Mutation Slot
The Sentinel found the stone almost weary: chiming softly, its lights pulsing almost as if it had fallen asleep. It was a stone; it could not sleep, and yet when he touched it, its sound and colors flared into brightness. His request was met with a slow hum, and at length, a click and a strange jingle hit the stone behind him. A simple set of black armor lay neatly folded: old and battleworn, but quite serviceable still. Short spikes studded the top, and the bottom was almost a thick, heavy 'kilt' of leather and mail in three parts, like the sort of thing a samurai of old might wear. There was no magic to it, though perhaps some could be added later--it was simply armor, though it seemed to suit him.
The Sentinel receives: A set of armor.
OOC reward:
Dark has won their choice of a Tier Five reward, and may claim a Winner's Choice in Update Me or Discord's Requests channel!
Spells will be handed out shortly!
Whale is granted a vision, the promise of her wish come true: at first, she sees a barn owl descending from the clouds in a fiery streak like a comet, diving to soar inches above the choppy waters of a bay, far from the shoreline. Its wingtips touch frothing, angry white caps and wisps of fleeting color sparkle in the spray left behind, glimmering with gold-violet puffs and the whisper of rainbow. The owl vanished as it collided with a spray of water that erupted from below—the exhale of a whale. Others followed, an entire pod rising from the mysterious depths of a sea thought long-empty.
A scout on the beach, sitting among dry and upturned boats, noticed this and his voice cut the foggy air with a sharp yelp, a series of alarm calls following him into the village. The whales had returned!
The Kylm had to wonder, was this a blessing from the talking whale they had met? She was painted everywhere in their village, carved into their pots, whittled into toys for their children... It didn't matter what was true, it was what they believed. They would herald her in song until the end of their days.
With the whales returned to their bay, they would survive.
- written by CJ
@Whale @Toboggan @Madhukar @Karambit @Wilder @Aethereal @Maximus @The Sentinel
Maximus waited for an answer for a time, shoulders dropping when they got one. They breathed out slowly and nodded, stepping back.
They left, then, off to their garden to do more cleaning up and interior decorating.