ORIGIN

A bulbous mound of pearl protruding from the wall, once silent, stirs. First a quiet rattling from within, muffled by layers of stone and ambiotic fluids. Then louder, more frantic, as the thing inside grows restless and begins scraping against its prison in earnest. Then, the outer wall finally gives way, spewing fluids, shards and a bundle of soggy fluff onto the floor with a mighty thud.

The fluff ball lays there for quite some time, limbs splayed around it like a starfish, face down in the dirt. It remained that way for long enough to raise questions; did it knock itself out when it hit the floor? Was it dead? All the while looking like a discarded teddy bear that had been tossed there by a child straight into the puddle.

Then it's arms moved, hands raised up towards the lump's head and it pushed its face out of the muck. It gaped vacantly at the world around it, as if no thoughts but a flatline were occuring in that tiny head. It didn't even blink as it blearily peered down each direction of the tunnel. Slowly it pulled its knees forwards until it could sit seiza, resting its hands on its fluffy thighs as it simply looked.

The creature looked and looked, until it seemed to fixate on one of the glowing labradorite crystals. With a struggle it rose to its feet, only to immediately attempt to take a step and end up face down in the soil again; its arms hadn't yet learned to stop the face from hitting the floor when it fell. This time, it rose again much quicker. Once back on two legs, it rubbed the soil on its face (only succeeding in smearing it around more), then took a very wobbly step forwards.

With all the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, this new gembound stumbled its way over to the glowing crystal until it could put two, sticky, chubby, starfished hands on the smooth sides of the stone. Where it remained, for now, fixated on the way the light shone through the thin parts of skin, where the blood disbursed the light into a reddish glow. As well as leaving streaks of slimy fluids caked in soil across the surface wherever those grubby hands touched.

So entranced by the light, the sheepy humanoid leans further forward until it could press its entire face against the crystal, feeling the cool surface on its forehead and nose tip. All the while staring wide-eyed directly onto the light.

The wet whoopie cushion noise did still grab this soggy, matted mess's attention. It ceased trying to become one with the light and turned in the direction the noise came from. The noise which was absolutely delightful and new. It liked that noise.

It? Brows furrowed under woolly fringe. That didn't feel right. She, perhaps? That felt a little better.

Now, onto more important tasks. She scowled deeply in focus, her lips pressed together, her tiny fists balled up. This required much more steel and guts than trying to fuse with the lights.

'ppppphhhhbbbbbbbllht' as the air escaped her lips and over her tongue. Perfect. Maybe even a masterful recreation of the soggy whoopie cushion noise. She was already a fine connoisseur of blowing raspberries at the age of few minutes old. An absolute masterwork.

She blearily looked up at the stranger, who was still making noises. Words, the back of her mind supplied helpfully. Yet, those weren't sinking in. In-fact, so pleased with her new found power, she'd teeter towards said stranger. Her grubby, sticky, slimy hands extended to use the stranger's legs to balance herself, and likely also leaving the same smeared marks on the stranger; should it let her touch it.

Another mighty 'ppppphhhhbbbbbbbllht' as she looked up into the stranger's face(s). Only a lot of spittle flew off her tongue as she blew these raspberries, having to look so far up at the stranger's face she was leaning backwards; the spittle arcing before falling back onto her own face. Did the stranger enjoy that as much as she did? She ought to check.

"Ouh, weh. Mmmmmuh." She tried, the sensation of moving her mouth to make noises felt foreign. When she tried a second time her chin and mouth was so full of drool from raspberrying that all she managed was a wet gurgle. Yet, leaned so far back that her fringe fell away from her face, she looked up at the stranger would bright eyes and a big (albeit vacant) grin.

Being just a few moments old, this gembound knew very little beyond being disgusting and blowing raspberries. However, a profound thought occurred as she gazed up at this other gembound. This. This has to be our parent. This is the herd. We'll make this one happy.

She stopped dead in her tracks as the stranger's second face came into view. Her mouth agape as she mouth breathed loudly in its direction; every sense and every ounce of concentration was locked into this second face. And... And... A raspberry? Oh, ho! This stranger was a fellow connoisseur! Truly a fellow of class and culture! Whatever either of those things were...

Two faces for more raspberries, what couldn't this gembound do?!

In a subconscious action, her hands inched their way across the plates. Getting a good feel for that texture. It was all new after all there was a lot of things to touch and see; and this gembound felt safe. Just a single finger crept into the gaps between the plating to idly rub the softer spot with a fingertip. The texture was good, and not unpleasant, and it made it easier to stop and think.

To look around the tunnel, the one this gembound had said something about. It was big and had gnarly, wobble shapes all around. Muck for floor and three very different exits. Something about the space stretching on in either direction exuded a sense of...

She chewed over the thought carefully, it made her feel little and something else she couldn't put her finger on, but it was a feeling that made her mirth vanish.

"Where?" She asked. Leaning all the way back to look up at this Good Gembound. Her little fingers still idly toying with the soft spots between plates, a rhythmic soothing gesture, for herself at least.

It was starting to hit. The existential dread of consciousness and awareness that came with being aware she was alive. That there were other living things. That there was more than what she could see with her eyes. That she knew things, like to eat the green stuff. How did she know that? The Good Stranger would know. So, she waited for her answer.

There were minute delays between following Opal's directions; figuring out what 'behind you' meant when you'd gained consciousness mere moments ago took some serious brain work. This was a lot of scary things in this scary place. The rhythmic circling continued as the news became increasingly distressing. She shifted until she could hook an arm around one of Nice Stanger's legs, in a sort of half-hug as she eyed the ends of each tunnel.

"Work?" She asked, looking up at its faces once more, apparently unbothered by how far she had to lean back to peep at it. Well, this person wasn't scary, so "keep scary beasts away?" She ventured, a completely logical jump in her fresh mind.

Her eyes were drawn to one tunnel in particular, the sweet smells of butter and sugar. All things a growing baby yearns for. Not to mention it didn't look dark and wet as Parental Figure had warned. Then again, she'd also just learned that other people did things like work. All of this was very new. To go from thinking of someone as an infallible object to realising they did things too.

She recalled her earlier thoughts and ventured, "you scared too?" Parental Figure seemed strong; was it possible it could be scared too? Perhaps she ought to remove the scary things for Parental Figure...