Soh-ling had absolutely no knowledge of Scorpio, and it wouldn't have been interested even if it had been told. No, it was simply drawn to the sudden influx of gembound suddenly invading Fornax. Soh-ling didn't have much interest in the surface, but it was impossible to deny that was where most of the action tended to be. So, loathingly, it had dragged itself out of the sea and slunk into one of the more appealing tunnels.
Soh-ling is a creature of the abyssal depths, so it had absolutely no issue with the dark. In fact, it was at home in it. It hoped, that as they descended, the darkness and water would both grow to drown them all. It would delight in the expansion of its domain, and the unfortunate and unworthy who would succumb to it.
The creature sculked in the back of the crowd, having absolutely no interest in socializing. Instead it watched the others, its gazing moving methodically through the crowd. A couple gembound in particular seemed to hold its interest- the Triage, Hrimfaxi, and Titivilus. Although for the last one, maybe it was simply just annoyed that it was hogging up all the space.
It was an odd thing that shot from the rustling shadows: nothing particularly sinister. A few dozen tiny, fluttering shapes, fleeing out of the bushes as the passing group disturbed them. They flew around the Gembounds' heads and then fled, harmless, just...
...Moths?
Ah.
Dust Moths.
Those who'd been paying close attention would be able to easily dodge the drifting dust. No big deal, no real danger. Those who had slightly worse reflexes... unless someone knocked them out of the way of the threat, they'd get a lungful. Or two. Or more.
And then came the hallucinations, which would linger for the rest of the dungeon... happy visions of the other creatures here winking, making eyes, dancing past and blowing bubbles, breaking into a waltz--how strange.
But really, there was little more stopping the group from pressing ahead: forward, over crumbled stone and past tangling vines, to a gap that led into a shadowed place beyond.
A nest of Dust Moths has been disturbed. Characters should post the results of the dust, and them pressing forward into the next room.
Those who succeeded (barely+) in their rolls may avoid the Dust entirely. They may also choose to aid anyone who failed. (Players can, for fun, choose to have even successful rolls get a bit of a sniff... if they want to.)
Those who failed their rolls, and are not given help, will inhale the dust and have vague hallucinations, the rest of the dungeon, though they aren't sinister in nature. If anything, the hallucinations from this strain of moth are strangely pleasant, and often involve them hallucinating other characters flirting with them (or one another), or singing, dancing, etc. These hallucinations will last until thread's end.
Those who critically failed cannot be aided, and will get a particularly potent dose of Dust, with stronger and more frequent hallucinations for the duration of the thread.
This quest is now closed to new entrants. The next post will take place in four days, on June 11th, afternoon/evening GMT.
@Nebula @Richter @Vestyge @Survivor @Triage @Yvan @Ryoto @Hrimfaxi @Titivilus @Soh-Ling @Hecate
Vestyge paid the stares shot his way no mind. He had a job to do, and he knew some Gembound judged him for merely being built to do it-
What is that?
His plates creaked and clicked as he turned to stare at the massive, rectangular hunk of animal squeezing itself through the tunnel. A brief flash of fear traveled through his spine. Was it going to trap them in here? It was massive, and surely it wouldn't be able to fit forever.
As Vestyge stared at The Train's beautiful shape, there was the soft sound of tiny wings above. He paid them no mind, until his next breath found dust entering his lungs. He began to cough up the dry powder, the noise loud, wet and ugly. It was then that he actually looked up to see the source-
Dust moths. Oh boy.
Y'know, maybe it'd be fine. Maybe he was immune to hallucinogens too. Vestyge pressed onward, refusing to let the dread in his Oilstone stomach creep further outward.
His head snapped toward where Triage and Hrimfaxi were giggling with glee, happy to be in each-other's presence, their joy rolling of their bodies in waves of beautiful iridescence. "Can you two get a room?" Vestyge hissed. He'd just been drugged by insects. He didn't need to listen to whatever they were so happy about too.
(interaction tag. He's being homophobic on pride month somebody KILL this guy)
In only a few moments of adjustment, the train is able to spot them: the ghastly, ever so slightly
coruscating wisps of the light.
Dust moths. Whether or not the train knows about what these are or what these do does not really matter. Most of the other Gembound seem to be dodgy of the encroaching particles, and this is likely what the train would...
try to respond to. Angling its massive body in an already cramped tunnel just to avoid oncoming puffball traffic is as difficult a task as it seems. Almost as if by dumb luck, the train just barely manages to miss every single one.
Something about its slight adjustments to its angle as it travels suggest the possibility an even greater purpose. The poor, giant serpentine entity (Soh-ling) behind the train becomes all but
entirely body-blocked for a while, at least until the dust moths fully pass. Whether we can say this is
on purpose or not would require tools we do not yet have access to.
Beyond this point, the train's flesh puppet head remains as popped out as it can be, still searching for more signs of trouble (without taking much obvious notice of the altercation breaking out amidst some of the others)... or perhaps, for more something more auspicious than that?
(OOC: The train is helping Soh-ling avoid the dust months!
@Soh-ling for visibility. The train would also like to keep its eyes peelt since it can't really do much else.)
In the defense of Yvan, Ryoto also isn't particularly fond of the train; not because of how large it is, but just how odd it is. It doesn't move by perceptibly natural means, and that coupled with the uncertainty of whatever altercation is brewing ahead makes the flock of moths a rather minor infraction against her anxieties about being around so many people.
"They're very loud," the Ryoto mutters in the undercurrent of someone continuing to shout, and moving to fling another aside or something— Oh, dear— "Um, m'not peacekeeping for them..."
Which, brings her to a better idea: Squeezing Yvan's hand with a small chirp for attention, and then gently tugging him forward with a small jerk of the head. "We could get in front..? Don' have t'hear or see them. Or squeeze past later..."
It does mean leading the group just by way of being in the front of the line, just a little bit, but... with a little wind beneath her paws and Yvan hurrying, they can at least get past and not worry so much about missing something ahead.. ?
@Yvan (for visibility.)