ORIGIN

(Takes place before the meeting)

During one of the few times that Louie seemed to have left the chrysali alone, Magdalena took his place. The graceful white dog had little interest in hanging around the chrysali - she knew that no one of the Merrymen would dare threaten the survival of at least her child, and the danburite, while not hers by blood, could practically be considered the same. By reason, she was a mother - she would adopt the role over both of them, if only to guard them and teach them. There was no obligation she felt to love them or coo over them. She couldn't even see the growing chrysali as they edged up against the wall. The only attachment she felt was responsibility - and intent. The peridot child would be stronger than both she and Louie. It was her redemption, she would ensure it.

Louie still had not made himself overly known to the rest of the Merrymen. Few knew of his return, and Magdalena figured they should keep it this way for now. Something stirred in her, a belief that there were others that wouldn't so readily accept his return. She understood that. She respected it - but she couldn't deny her curiosity over the chrysali. This was the second time she had come to visit them now, and she drew her nose over their pocked surfaces, feeling the change in their growth. Their magic, akin to hers. Her plans would come to fruition soon, and now she just wondered when.

The dog huffed and reclined to her stomach. She would wait until Louie returned; for now, Magdalena lay curled around the chrysali, her arched back facing out to the rest of the cave.

@Fleur

Monoceros was... just as windy, cold, and generally uncomfortable as Fleur had remembered. She eyed the platforms overhead longingly, but the risk of being seen was too great, and so the skunk stuck to the shadows, hugging the walls, careful to stay poised and steady to keep the tiara perched on her head in place. It was cold, unnaturally so, as if all of the life that once imbibed it hadn't gone so much as turned rotten and fragile. Eve had made her take even more care, with the way she'd peered up at the crown - was there some way it, and the lifeblood of her brother, could be saved?

It sounded preposterous, but then again, there were strange rock creatures in Polaris that didn't even seem to be alive, so she supposed anything was possible.

Still, Fleur slunk through the tunnels leading up to her "home," grimacing at the thought of calling it as such. She wouldn't wish Diamondfang or Louie on anyone, and for a moment, she was glad she'd wandered away from Florence, that fateful day in the humid tunnel. At least he hadn't been caught too, put under the same spell.

Then again, he'd always been stronger. He wouldn't have fallen for it. They'd probably still be together right now, travelling the caves, happy and- Fleur shook her head a touch, as if to shake the wonderings free, and focused her gaze on the twitch of movement from around the next bend. White fur, and the smell of disease. The skunk rounded the corner and slowed, ears perking up, red gaze pinning onto the familiar face of "Mags?"

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@Magdalena

Her eyes had slowly begun to drift closed. Sleep was a temptation ebbing in the corner of her mind, pulling her into the void of unconscious. When was the last time she'd gotten a good sleep, a real one? The tunnel had proven ill suited for sleep. It was unsafe and a popular travel route, and worry for her Fire had kept her awake most of the time. They returned to Monoceros not long ago with Louie in tow, and Magdalena had managed to drift asleep in the combined comfort of her Fire and the Little Fire. Once or twice, at least. Then Erebus met his fate. She was haunted by the memory of his death. Helpless, useless; him, or both of them? His mind too had been lost to the unknown, and he suffered more than sleep. She could feel it. She'd needed Nemesis to put him out of his misery. Could she see, maybe the image would have been driven into her mind. Scattered brains. His head crushed, his stone shattered.

Instead she had only sounds. Squelching, squishing, crunching, splatting, scuffing, scuff, scuff, scuff. The memory was suddenly too real. She was on the cusp of sleep - her heart lurched, she jumped, brought back to the waking world. Foot steps. Magdalena turned her head, but by that time the gentle, tentative voice had touched the air. The dog's folded ears twitched, and she was silent for a moment, thinking. "Fleur." Magdalena hummed, delivering a small smile.

@Fleur

Fleur felt a tiny, wincing grin tugging at her lips in response, tail moving to curl upwards, but she kept the pleased gesture to herself - not all that difficult, considering. "Nice to. Be. Remembered," she offered, chuffing softly, padding closer to the white dog, slow and steady, now more than ever. Magdalena had never shown her anything but a sort of gentle, offset kindness; a far cry from Diamondfang's... well. Diamondfang in general, really.

Her mouth opened a touch to ask just how the other woman had been, with two cycles passed, but the sight of what the dog lay curled around made her pause. "You had. A baby?" Fleur's voice was softer still, almost whispering in reverence, sitting down a good foot from the older Gembound and her chrysalis. "Good. You'll be. A good mom," the skunk offered, voice strong and sure, nodding to herself once.

Granted, she only had two points of comparison, but it was still a pretty rare compliment.

She hummed, tail swishing against the floor almost silently, raising a paw to adjust the freezing tiara that had begun to slip, waiting patiently for the dog's response. She was less chatty than Eve, but then, Fleur highly doubted there was anyone more chatty than Eve.

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@Magdalena

Magdalena felt a twinge of guilt at her response. She had to admit that she had difficulty remembering the skunk the first time around. Her name must have been spoken in passing and then forgotten - in one ear and out the other. After that, Magdalena made a point of remembering her name. If there was anything as embarrassing as passing out from sickness, it was forgetting a name. She wouldn't forget anymore - she wouldn't forget someone like the children had forgotten her. Magdalena's smile only broadened and she issued a quiet throaty chuckle. "Yes." She would agree. It was nice.

Slowly, Magdalena unfolded herself from around the two chrysali. She shifted to lay on her stomach, stretching those paws out ahead of her while her nose hovered in Fleur's direction. Her observation led Magdalena's attention to drift to the two crystal eggs by her side, the same way someone would turn their eyes - instead, she only listened and felt. Magdalena was caught off guard when she said she'd be a good mother. She resisted the temptation to bark out a scalding, sarcastic laugh, only sealing her lips in an attempt to maintain the smile. "Perhaps." Magdalena said, and pulled herself up. She sat upright before the skunk now, and her head had turned to face out to the twister. "Where have you been?" She thought to ask; Fleur had been no more than a ghost as of late. It was surprising to see her back.

@Fleur

Fleur watched, the itch under her skin fading at the way Magdalena's gaze switched from her to the chrysalis - chrysali; clear now that she'd moved. Two children. The itch turned into a slow burn, but it wasn't anger, now, more of a guilty grief. Florence would've loved to see them, no matter how he would've felt about the Merrymen. He'd taken to her easy as pie. "Better. Than most," Fleur murmured back, blinking slowly with another chuff, this one distinctly amused, though it may have been just a bit self-directed. "Guaranteed," she assured. The white dog would be a sight better than the mongoose, that was for sure.

And then, of course, the pleasantries were shattered, and Fleur looked away, following the woman's gaze to the ever-present twister, swallowing dryly, the itch crawling across her paws like a trail of ants. "I was... looking. For someone." It wasn't much of an answer, and her snout wrinkled, caught between giving away too little and being rebuffed and giving away too much, only to have the last remnants of her brother taken away, probably hoarded somewhere along with all of the other stolen gifts of the group.

The skunk swallowed again, tapping a clear claw on the cold stone floor, before turning her face back to Magdalena, voice just loud enough to be heard over the winds. "My brother. Florence. He was..." Her words fumbled, and she turned away again, grimacing as the itch migrated to lay behind her eyes. "Family. He was. My family."

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@Magdalena

Poor, poor Fleur must have been awfully misguided. She wasn't certain where the skunk got the idea that Magdalena would be a good mother. Was she not aware of the dog's countless failures? Could she not see Magdalena's undeniable carelessness towards most? ...Maybe Magdalena had done too good of a job lying to herself, and lying to everyone else. Did they really think her so caring? And if they did... Could she consider that a failure, a betrayal of her own emotions and desires, or a success? Did it make her seem weak, or was her deception instead a strength? She was hung up on the thought. The internal conflict. But ultimately her interest fixated on Fleur again and her answer.

She hadn't known the skunk had family, but she supposed in that regard they mirrored one anothers ignorance. "Did you find him?" She asked, thinking little else of the response.

@Fleur

Did you find him?

That was the question, wasn't it?

Fleur turned, half ready to bite out something sarcastic, stilling at the liquid-silver reminder of Magdalena's blindness. She settled on blowing out a long, unsteady breath instead, slowly reaching up to grasp the tiara and setting it on the ground, readily protected between her paws. "In. A way. I suppose," the skunk mumbled, leaning down to press her nose to one of the smooth sides of the ammolite crown, the touch both grounding her and turning her stomach. "I found. A piece. Of him."

She sighed, the noise swept away by the winds. "The only. Piece. Left. His gem," Fleur explained, eyes slipping closed in a sort of strange, mournful respect, shifting to lay down, half-curling around the dissected soul of her brother. "It is. A crown. It is. Smooth. And light. Cold. And colorful. With seven. Points. Regal." The words were tired, but spoken with a tiny twitch of a smile. She could picture him now, strutting about with the tiara still and steady on his feathered head, pink plumage sticking out no matter where they travelled.

"He was... everything."

She wouldn't mention Fang's involvement.

Not yet.

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@Magdalena

I'M THE MONSTER, I'M THE VILLAIN
WHAT PERFECTION, WHAT PRECISION

It was silence, and then the dog heard a small clack on the ground, stone hitting stone. Her ears instinctively twitched and pushed forward at the noise, as though it was that noise that held all the answers - or it was a giveaway, a betrayal of somebody's presence. In a sense, it was.

Magdalena remained ever attentive. The skunk's clipped words slowly spelled out a story for her. A single piece... all that was left... he had died. Yet somebody had not cared to take the gem with them, had anybody managed to do the terrible deed. Maybe she had found him like that. Either way it was a tragedy, and Magdalena dredged up a small swell of sympathy for the skunk. She'd never been on the other side of death, the receiving end - the one to find a loved one passed away or decaying in a dusty corner. Still she couldn't imagine it would feel very good. She tried to imagine what the crown would be like in the back of her mind, and she could formulate the shape, but colourful - that she didn't know. It remained an intangible entity, a three dimensional vision that lingered only in her imagination. She didn't think it would be appropriate to try and touch it.

"I am sorry for your loss." Magdalena answered quietly, tilting her head slightly towards Fleur before pointing her nose back towards the twister. She wracked her mind for something else to say. How did he die? Did someone eat him? What will you do with his gem? She abated the immodest, curious questions; they would only serve to cast her as insensitive. "When did you find him?" Maybe it could at least give her some semblance of a time frame. Some idea behind a motive.

@Fleur

Muzzle pushed into the cold crystal as it was, Fleur's reply was muffled. "Thank. You," she murmured, gaze flickering under her eyelids. She trusted Magdalena, to a degree - the dog had never been anything but kind, after all, if a little distant. The Merrymen were just... like that, though. Not like those she'd met along the way, so open and almost clingy, desperate for attachment. She'd need to pack those feelings away to get through this. "A week. Ago? Or so. Time. Passes. Strangely." The without him was unsaid.

"I am. Lost. As to. What to. Do." Eve had spoken of reviving him, but what good would that do him? The dead should stay dead, shouldn't they? Wasn't it the height of arrogance, to bring someone back without their consent? "I am. Sorry. If I. Overstep. But... what. What would. You do. If someone. Killed... Nemesis. For example. Or your. Kids." The thought made her skin crawl, even though she'd do the deed herself in a heartbeat, if that's what it took.

"Would you. Kill. In their memory? Their. Name? Seek. Vengeance? Or. Live on. Without. Them. Without. Justice." She curled around the crown tighter, as if preparing for a blow. "This... loss. It is. Unbearable. I must. Seek. Justice. To make. It right." Something stung at her eyes, and the skunk shifted, resting her chin on her paws. "To think... of someone. Killing him. For what? Sport? Food? And then. Leaving him. Like garbage. To. Rot." She shuddered.

"It. Fills me. With rage. Directionless. Anger. And. Sadness. I am... unused. To such. Things."

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@Magdalena