ORIGIN - [Order vs Chaos] SANCTUARY

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ORDER VS CHAOS

SANCTUARY

It was like a nightmare, repeating itself all over again, but this time the invading forces were of another faction. He spared only a glance for Aethereal. Certainly some of the rebels and the refugees, in his time, had been laced with Chaos, their stones the same--he would not turn away an ally, though his suspicion always lingered. But he treated her no differently than another refugee--and damn it, there were many. That nightmare--of his failed defense, of his friends falling like reaped wheat around him--roared through his mind, feeding his frenzied fear and determination.

It was time to lead.

"I AM TEOSAR," he called. "TRUST ME NOW." He had no time to explain the why. But he had seen--no, felt--the magic Wulfsige had tried to use, and he turned first toward him. "You! Please--teach as many as you can the power you just tried to wield. They will need it." Urgency kept him speaking, turning to the rest with a whirl of striped coat. "You all ask what is happening. There is war. Whose, and why--I do not know and it matters not. But it may linger for some time and we must protect one another! Food, water--we need these things! Barricades, and camouflage for the entrance to this fortress--we need that, too! Do what you can to gather supplies and to hide us!" he urged, almost begged.

He could not see it happen again-

"You-!" he barked, whirling to Wilder. "It is Order, you say-? Can anyone sense them? Keep watch for them? If they come here-..." His gaze slipped to Aethereal. "You will need to fight them," he warned. A creature of Chaos might fight back that of Order. He did not know, for sure.

His gaze shot to Coyote--just a child--with alarm. "Protect those who cannot save themselves. Please."

Gembounds in this thread are being encouraged to build barricades, camouflage the hiding space, and gather supplies. Wulfsige is being asked to demonstrate his use, specifically, of Detect Radiation. Upon a successful roll, the rest (whoever does not have the spell already) may claim the spell in Update Me for half price.

New characters may join this thread at any time.

@Aethereal @Wulfsige @Astéri @Tourmaline @Relic @Wilder @Khloros (Coyote/Oliver)

Khloros turned and looked them over. There weren't many here, all told. And some part of his mind was cold again, distant, the way it so often was.

"This place torments us," he murmured. Long had he believed it to be best to dismantle the entire workings of the cave--he still did. But that could not be done here and now. Not easily, at least.

And the children-... there was a child here. They needed help. They all needed help. 'To end suffering' had been his creed--and still was--and there was more than one way to do that. Death-as-a-mercy would do little unless he could kill every creature in the caves, preventing their regeneration, and with his magic gone that was no longer an easy option.

So the next option on his list was rescue, protection, kindness. That didn't mean he wasn't about to make a fucking speech while doing it, though.

He turned, hooves clicking rapidly on the rock, ethereal wings like sheets of hammered gold spreading from his back. Faint armor shimmered over his body--translucent, starlit gold--and remained there as Khloros took pegasus flight. He began to fly back and forth, pushing bones into a tangible barrier. All the while, he spoke.

"Their masters see us as less than pawns in their game," he called out, "We are nothing more than refuse, lying along their path, to be kicked aside and trampled. They have told me! They have told me we are failures; that we are nothing but incarnated magic to serve their purpose; that if we do not serve them... we are to be destroyed. This is their war. Not ours. We have no one to rely on-" and here the black horse kicked another huge skull into place--"-but each other."

Of course, he was essentially preaching to the choir, here--but Khloros felt he'd made a pact, of sorts, to preach whenever possible.

horse stock by venomxbaby on deviantart

Coyote simply cowered.

She did not help, in any way, only trembling and hiding back from the loud noises. The tiger and the horse shouting did nothing to reassure her: they were loud, terrifying to her.

The speech, too, only drew wide yellow eyes and enormous ears, her tail tucking tighter up beneath her hocks and the fur on her back standing tall.

"What's happening?" she whispered, unable to find the voice to again call for help.

Oliver was unaware that his gemstone, at this point, would likely spark unknown feedback for the magic that Wilder and Wulfsige were using. He was unaware of such things entirely. When Teosar gave his instructions, Oliver turned, determined to ~~obey~~ help. It struck him as a compulsion, overwhelming, driving out his own thought and even--his free will? No--it was his will to help... was it not?

He wanted to! He wanted to, so why...

Distressed by this change, he watched almost from outside himself as his body swept into motion. "Water is of the most importance," he said aloud, as if to himself. He began to upturn skulls so that they faced upward; to sweep out every little hollow he could find, cleaning it to make room. Even as he did this he summoned out his magic.

Mist coalesced throughout the room, and fat, slow raindrops began to fall--then sped into a soft drizzle. It wasn't the downpour he had hoped for, but it would--if he were careful--provide water for them. Food can come next, he thought.

The fact that others defended the beast of Chaos was met with growing frustration. "Chaos and Order are two sides of the same blade that seeks to plunge into the heart of the Caves." He said, voice tinged with a growl. He would listen, begrudgingly thoughtful, to Teosar. "If Order is what floods us; A speck of chaos will not harm us. Not until the tides turn." That until was spoken with particular weight and venom. The enemy of the enemy was not his friend- just not the most dangerous threat.

"The spell to see that which is not seen. Magic seeing itself, in every shade and form." he began. "What you see is within the gem, but not of the gem. It is energy, magic itself." His eyes glinted off the crowd, and he would look at them and beyond. Reaching out magic that flinched tentatively after the recent backfire.

It happened again. Whatever he was going to say next died on his tongue as everything was consumed in a refracting vision of encroaching order and unknown feedback, everywhere and nowhere. He was reminded of that horrible rabbit and the false urges programmed into him, and his snout curled into an awful, silent snarl until he got a hold of himself. "...I do not know what happened." His voice was a tad quieter- not meek, if he was even capable of such- but less booming and authoritative. Apologetic, maybe."My magic has not cooperated since I left Polaris." Frustration radiated off him like natural order might, his tail wagging stiffly. His gaze turned to Wilder. "If you have sense order, then you may have better luck. They must be able to See what we See." He whirled back to Teosar, snout tipping downwards. "I will try to teach, but if I cannot teach, I will fight. If I cannot fight, I will die."

@Asteri [tagged by request] @Wilder @Aethereal

War.

In Tourmaline's time in the caves, now approaching 12 cycles, she'd never expected to hear that world carry all the weight it ought to. And here she was now, preparing to shelter from some great conflict she'd never dreamed of.

But there were others here, and Tourmaline would never leave others to their fate. Even if she had made no promise or oath, she'd do anything to protect the others who lived in this cave.

Obscuring the entrances to the stronghold seemed like a wise decision. "I'll help with the defenses," she declares, skittering out to one of the doors. There's a sizable pile of bones next to it, and with her magic, she hopes she can knock it down in the path, hiding that exit.

Her magic causes the tower to tremble, the top half of it collapsing into a heap on the ground. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

For some unknown reason, Aethereal actually shrank back at Wulfsige's reprimand, despite being several times larger. Something about the wolfdog gave off an authoritative aura that warranted at least some level of intimidation: maybe it was his booming voice, serious manner, or the prismatic blue gem on his back that shimmered with a glowing rainbow aura reminiscent of the Spire that had once invaded her mind with brilliant light and unbearable pain. Maybe it was all of that. You cannot escape from what you've wrought, he said, and all Aethereal could react with was a hunching of the shoulders and a barely-audible "I'm sorry," like a guilty child.

Sorry for what? She didn't know. Somehow, she felt responsible, even though she didn't know what she'd done.

The others' defense, as well as Teosar's instructions, managed to bolster her nerves. Fight, at least, was something she knew how to do--even if she wasn't sure she could do it well. Caves knew that the memories of alien war that weren't hers--or were they? had haunted her nightmares enough that she knew how to react when the war finally came. The whispers around her rose in a crescendo as she contemplated the idea. In all this fear and uncertainty, the thought of unleashing violence on something was oddly reassuring, even exciting.

(The questioning voice of Scars the Rat inside her head told her that perhaps it wasn't quite... normal to feel that way? But he was an Echoing Gray rat. They had only two perspectives to draw from, so who really knew what was normal and what wasn't?)

"I will be ready," Aethereal affirmed, even as something nagged at her mind. Something about this situation struck a sense of deja vu in her mind--but what? The black horse was preaching on about something about the Masters calling them all failures. It made Aethereal rather angry at the masters, but it was also very confusing. She felt like she didn't have any context for what was going on. Then-- Chaos and Order? She'd heard that comparison before, for sure.

"Mother?!" she blurted, completely shocked. "I thought-- Is Mother the Order you're talking about? But I thought-- I thought she was nice. Why would she attack..." she trailed off. Had Vargas been right? Did Mother want nothing more than to destroy her and the caves? But she'd spent the first two weeks of her life with Mother, vulnerable and newly-hatched, and Mother had cared for her. Surely that Mother wouldn't try to kill her now?

Or had she been a complete fool? Two weeks was nothing compared to the cycles she'd been alive now. Maybe she'd completely misjudged everything she thought she knew about Mother. Maybe everything she hadn't wanted to believe was true.

In any case, Aethereal realized that she was being absolutely useless right now, especially considering her massive size in comparison with everyone else, and (somewhat guiltily) started to push bones into barricades by the entrance to the fortress.

Wilder's ears flicked back as Teosar whirled to address her, simply out of surprise as his booming voice directed its way at her. "Y-yes. Order. I'm sure of it, I've encountered them before. I'll keep my senses on them and warn when they're approaching." She didn't bother to say "if" they approach. They would most certainly go after the group, if they were launching an assault on Canis. Mother had made it clear, during the short time Wilder had known it - all would become part of the hivemind.

She looked at Wulfsige and rested a paw on one of his legs. "It's okay. The magic out here is more distant then in Polaris. You just have to get used to it." As for his request, she nodded and turned to the rest of the group, hoping that they could all see her - she was quite small, after all. At a flick of instruction, Vaati hopped forward and crouched so she could climb onto his back, to at least give her a little more height. "Listen!" she yelled as loud as she could. "You need to learn how to feel them - the magic they have. As Wulfsige said - its about energy. Is it chaotic and disordered, uncontrollable? Is it clear and connected and perfectly controlled? Or does it feel natural, like most Gembound, like the Spire? Focus and cast your magic out, try to sense! Not the presence of magic, or the location, but the energy it is producing!" And here she cast the spell herself, so that others may do the same, focusing both on the group in front of her and the distant force of Order. She could sense the natural order of most before her, she could feel the intense waves of the Skystone on Wulfsige's shoulder, the threads of it woven through Khloros (and she glanced at him, intrigued, but now was not the time to ask for his story), the chaotic disruption of Aethereal, and...something else. She blinked, eyes drifting towards Oliver, ears tilting in his direction. He looked...familiar, like she'd seen him before, but the feedback she received from him was completely alien.

Once she felt like she'd passed on her knowledge as best she could, she hopped down from Vaati and leaned towards Wulfsige, speaking in a low voice. "You...seem to know more then me but...the dog-bird one is strange. I don't recognize what I'm getting from him. He's...natural, as far as I can tell but there's something else. It's not Chaos or Order. I'll keep an eye on him." It wasn't that she didn't trust Oliver (although to say she trusted anyone now was a stretch), but she wanted to know more. And if it would be a threat to the others.

Aethereal shocked her, then. She would have thought that one Corrupted would have no association with the hive, yet she proclaimed to have known. She turned towards the Valkhound with shock laced in her expression. "You...have you spoken with it? It's - no! No, it's not nice at all! It takes control of you, uses you like a pawn! Makes you hurt others. You lose all sense of who you are for the sake of Order! You can't let her get close to you ever again, or let her trick you!" What had happened before, in Cetus, the hive that had grown to concerning numbers, the almost-war and the real fight that had happened, how she'd almost brought ruin to the Bonebound in Mother's name...nothing like that could ever happen again. It wouldn't, not if she was there to stop it!

The Hive. The words make Astéri feel faintly sick.

He's never had a personal encounter with the Hive before. But he knows dad has, before—the information has percolated down to him in the faintest of rumors. He has never known, exactly, what the Hive is; but he knows what it does well enough.

The Hive takes. It takes, and it takes, and it takes. It takes your will—it takes your emotions—it takes your memories—it takes you.

And there are faint leviathans in the distance, and the tiger before him speaks of war—

And among those gathered here, as Astéri instinctively follows the tiger's gaze, he sees… a kid. Just a kid. Just a little child, a new-hatched gemling, cowering among the bones. He can remember when he was that small, so many cycles ago. If he strains himself, he can remember, vaguely, the smell of fire and smoke. The fire has been with him all his life, that constant comfort; but he remembers how hard it is to breathe in a raging wildfire, the smoke that clogs one's lungs, and he remembers how his dad had had to dart in and rescue him from his chrysalis, so long ago.

When all the others scatter about and talk of order, chaos, the hive, Mother—as a horse goes to stack skulls upon each other and a wolf-bird calls for rain, Astéri noses past everyone else and goes straight for the kid, lowering his head down to meet her eye level.

"Hey. Hey,"" he says, voice low and soft and not trembling at all with the sick anxiousness he feels deep down inside. He's quite proud of that. "Listen to me. You're gonna be alright, okay? Me, me and all the others here, we're gonna protect you, alright? We're gonna keep you safe."

Her voice is so damn little. It breaks his heart to hear. "Out there are a bunch of mean monsters who want to take over the caves and steal everybody's minds. But they're just a buncha big, dumb, stupid monsters, and everyone here has magic and we're gonna make this place safe from them. We're gonna protect you."

He doesn't know where this speech is coming from, really. He's just trying to draw on the memories of his dad, his reassuring presence, how he was always so good at rallying a room. He doesn't even know if it's gonna work, it's just—she's so scared. He has to say something.

"Can you do something for me, pup?" Astéri asks. "The monsters aren't here yet, right? So, while they're not here, can you bring the Gembound who are making walls more bones? Stuff that looks sturdy. That way we can make this place even safer against the monsters, yeah?"

Caves, he hopes it helps.

@Coyote

Raoshar found himself here, whether by chance or unknowing guidance towards a purpose he wasn't quite convinced he was interested in. The panicked din of voices, braying of games and betrayal, sent a shiver through his spine. Though small, his feathers puffed up to make him look a bit more sizeable as he crept through the crowd. So many were taking shelter here, and working to build up a defense... A defense against "Order".

"Is anyone injured?" The young dragon raised their voice only once, eyes gleaming. A small feline was describing a spell used to discern the difference between Order and Chaos and-- the rest. Raoshar, son of Tenzin, was born to be a neutral party. He was still debating on if he would remain that way.

For now, however, he sought to provide aid, searching among the others to help in whatever way he could. He listened now, to Wilder, to greater understand the forces at play, his serpentine eyes narrowing into gilded slits. One ear swiveled toward a larger feline, comforting a child no more older than Raoshar himself.

If no one was injured in that moment, then perhaps he could lend a paw toward helping reinforce the shelter that had been made. He dug around for some bones, discarding the smaller, fractured pieces, and eventually found a strong femur that had been displaced. It took considerable effort to lift, his baby muscles straining, but he managed to drag it to a wall, propping it up into a crack.

His eyes slid back toward Coyote, hoping to catch her gaze, if only for a moment. He nodded at her, a small, tiny piece of solidarity. They were young, they were small, but they would survive.

@Coyote

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