ORIGIN - What they left behind

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Amidst the cluttered floor of tunnel J, a starry cub snuffled around - one of the cave's latest additions. Thalassa's boxy head rose for a brief moment, pale eyes scanning the surrounding piles of scrap metal. It wasn't sure what it was seeking yet: A tool? A weapon? Her grasp on archeology was flimsy in her infancy, but gods be damned, she'd try and find something interesting. Even if it killed her.

Or more likely, even if her father interrupted her search before that could happen.

An interesting choice for a family outing, but as soon as they had heard they'd insisted to Shango that here was the place. Something caught the light in her search - treasure? She dashed towards it, eager to investigate, and... It was not treasure in fact. Instead, it was a fresh piece of dung, left behind by whatever lesser frequented this place. Her sensitive nose wrinkled and she quickly trotted away from the object, eager to forget it in the rubble and find something new.

@Shango

Shango paced along behind, every step of his paws clicking loudly with the keratin at their base. He was a little tense--leaving the unhatched child behind was worrying. But he couldn't stay there forever; and anyway, it had created for Sakhira's sake. Surely she'd turn up and raise it..? Not that he didn't continually fret over it, checking on the stone, but... he couldn't restrain his kids to Polaris forever.

He came up closer, idly sniffing at the dung that had put Thalassa off, realized it was dung and moved on himself. "This place is dryyy," he complained, almost childlike himself. He didn't like dry. He liked jungle, and storms. Whenever he went to Monoceros, he started a downpour and usually some rolling thunder for good measure. He paused, scorpion-tipped tail flicking, and summoned up his magicka; mist quickly coalesced overhead, and soon the first few fat drops of warm moisture began to fall.

"What are you looking for, again..?" he asked, each word slowly drawn out and with a catlike yowl to it. Thalassa hadn't been clear--at least, Shango hadn't quite understood. But maybe if he had a better idea, he could help her search.

@Thalassa

It waddled forward, nostrils flaring in its search. Shango's complaints met deaf ears, but the rain he had summoned was harder to ignore. A fat droplet landed squarely on her nose and she sneezed indignantly, turning her pale eyes to glare at her father with a toddler's frustration. their archeology was (understandably) amateur, and they saw the weather as a nuisance rather than a threat to the thing they had come looking for -

"Treasure." He re-affirmed, before turning back to nose at one of the rusted piles. "This stuff - it's old. It smells old." Her teeth clacked against metal, rough with rusted grit, but tougher than the twisted scraps around it. "So it's special. Important - maybe." She knew she was new to the caves, young - it irked her that she had not been around for longer already.

She turned with the object in her mouth, letting it clatter to the floor in front of Shango so they both could study it.
@Shango
[gm tagged for flavour]

The object was a bangle: a humanoid-sized bracelet (or perhaps a little larger) meant for wrist or arm. To the Gembounds, it was a loop, a circle, and though filthy with age (caked wholly in dust and grime that was nearly stone in its tenacity) it was--beneath--purest silver-hued platinum.

Perhaps it had one been merely jewelry, or maybe something else; but it was the sort of thing that could easily cause a primitive people to ascribe an almost religious symbolism to. Or perhaps it was the sort of thing a child would discard in disgust.

Shango wasn't a bad father. He wasn't so childish that he'd mock his children, unaware of their feelings or intent or hopes. He was a little simplistic in his thoughts, yes, but when Thalassa insisted that these things might be 'important,' he suppressed a sigh and braced himself for confusing conversation.

He didn't think these things were important. Being old didn't mean things were special. Rocks were old; nobody cared about rocks. And this stuff was old; surely someone would've come and gotten some of them if they meant something. But, trying his best to be supportive and nurturing and whatever else a parent was supposed to be, he clicked his way over and stared at what Thalassa had found.

A dirty circle.

(And this thought process would have been enough, were anyone privy to it, to show that Thalassa had perhaps a better grasp on historical artifacts than Shango did.)

Ghostlight eyes lifted to his child, and he tried not to express his doubts.

"Okay," he began, humoring them. "Important how?"

He didn't show his doubts; the flick of his pointed tail expressed only interest. Internally, he was hoping that Thalassa would have some kind of ideas... he didn't know. Creativity. An imagination. A story to go with this weird concept of "special things." And if he could draw it out, well, that'd be good for a kid, right? To tell their stories?

@Thalassa

As the bangle had swung behind her fangs, some grit knocking loose in her mouth, which she spat out with some struggle. Not a pleasant experience, but it sure beat her first find. While the object didn't seem to hold much promise, the feeling in her teeth kept her from tossing it away - it seemed more sturdy than the other scraps. Perhaps there was something underneath the age to be salvaged?

"Well... Someone made these things, but they're dead now." The word dead was given little weight, little more than a blunt description of the truth. "So if we try to... Try to find out what they were made for, maybe we can know more about who made them. Maybe why, Maybe when." she sniffed the object. "Can you clean this? With your water?"

@Shango

A curious glance was cast at the child. Her assertion--so certain--was surprising. "Maybe not dead," he pointed out gently. Not that death was the thing that might be upsetting--but he didn't want her to think he was reprimanding her with the correction. It was only knowledge he offered. "Maybe asleep. We sleep in our stones, sometimes--like before you hatched. For a long time, sometimes. So maybe they are asleep. Or not here right now." Or maybe it was just junk, discarded--but he didn't think Thalassa'd want to hear that.

He clicked back over at her request, either way, sniffing at the bangle again. "I will try. But why is it interesting to you?" he asked. It wasn't that he wasn't curious, but his interest seemed to pale in comparison to the determined fire of Thalassa's mind when it came to these things.

He gave himself an idle shake as the rain began to intensify. This tunnel was usually a dry sort, but the weather lately had been damp enough that his magicka--piled on top of his last cast--managed to call enough of a strong drizzle to create little puddles here and there as the moments stretched on. He made his way to one, and nodded down at it, studying his muddy reflection in it briefly. "Try here," he suggested, with a glance back at Thalassa.

@Thalassa

She blinked, absorbing the contrary opinion. "Maybe." It turned, settled a paw on a stray chunk of rust, watching it crumble away with applied pressure. They did this slowly, thoughtfully. "Then... They've been asleep for a long, long time." Said with skepticism.

She sniffed, thinking again. "Its... better, I think. More... tough?" The weather intensified, and she leant into it this time, eyes sliding shut as she let the dust collecting between her scales be swept away. Shango directed their attention to the puddles, and the cub shook themself, dropped the circle in the water, and got to work.

The grit around the object was tougher than it looked, and its big paws made it difficult to remove - this would take some time. Still, Thalassa could sense it held promise.

@Shango

Shango peered at it. He had to admit, in the back of his mind, now that Thalassa pointed out how long this stuff had been here (crumbling some to dust in example)... she was probably right. These guys probably were all dead.

He watched starshot paws scrape at metal, and huffed a little, peering closer.

"Let me help," he half-suggested, half-offered, and squinted at the thing. It wasn't that he was really curious. It was more that Thalassa was, and all the rest of this aside, he always wanted to see his kids happy.

The gust of wind that came wasn't super strong, but it drew with it stinging drops of his falling rain. With luck, it'd loosen the gunk up enough to help, at least. "Now?" he asked, stepping back.

He side-eyed Thalassa, wondering what they planned to do with the thing.

@Thalassa

The gust sent by its father carried with it a torrent, and Thalassa face shriveled at the stinging drops sent her way, holding the bangle up half in defense. She appreciated the help, truly, but... it seemed that subtlety was not in Shango's vocabulary, even in his magic. She waited for the wind to slow, before rubbing her face of the excess. "Thanks."

While the dirt did loosen, the bangle was still caked in grime. The cub couldn't seem to muster the power to actually rid the object of the dirt, the sparkle of something beneath taunting them further. He gave a furious, determined and ultimately hopeless scrub, before collapsing back on their haunches, letting the bangle sink to the bottom of puddle. "Ugh." Maybe Shango was right, and it wasn't as important as it had seemed - Thalassa began to consider leaving it behind to search for something better.

@Shango

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