ORIGIN

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The creature was squat, short. Aure could see a chisel in one hand, a hammer in the other: crude tools, formed of chipped stone.

Markings carved crudely into the wall glinted in the dim half-dark. The clinking crack of the hammer came over and over, monotonous, broken now and then by quiet snickering.

A shadow fell over it--over all of them--from behind. A carpet of fungus bloomed beneath. Panicked screams. Falling.

Darkness.

Nothing.

@Aure

A soft "mm." came from Desert, accompanied with a shrug, at the response to his comeback. He was more interested in what the vulture was doing, watching with pinpricks of pupils. Was he going to place it somewhere special. The thought sent the briefest of twitches at Desert's lip, barely perceptible as he returned to picking at the rat.

He was surprised that Auré hadn't known his father- he spoke as though he knew of him, though who was Desert to know if he'd been told about him secondhandedly? He worried over the bone of a forelimb as he paid attention with his ears shoved forward. Life given to stone... All Desert knew was a part of a stone was given life. Then, it must be wholly possible for an entire stone to be revived, then? Hm. This set some awkward thoughts given to the gems he held in his cave. Already his mind began to mull over them- few were stronger, yet, but what about the one he'd found next to a chrysalis?

As awkward as the words sounded, Desert felt the need to press in more. Learn more about families, about how these beings operated now-a-days. "Mm- you were raised by someone who knew him, then? A mother? And, ah-" A swallow of meat interrupted his words. "And- sorry for the two questions at once, but how long is a long time?" A pause to his feasting allowed him a glance up to the vulture before he began back at the now mostly eaten half. Long time, to him, could be tens of thousands of cycles- for a Younger, it could be, what.. ten? Twenty? The answer would answer some unspoken questions, at least.

@Auré

Stiff, feathers rising at the wave of fungal growth. His mind suffered a momentary lapse, disjointed between the present and past. The chisel, despite never falling in his vision, clattered in the back of his mind. This one had been a victim of death, it seemed, due to harmless vandalism.

Aure grimaced, then looked to Desert. "I'll show you what I saw before this one's death," he chirped quickly in warning, then focused. Only the briefest spark of magic came, but then nothing. Unruly flow. "Or not." And he set to explaining, instead: "it was a small creature, couldn't see all the way up the wall - with a wedge-shaped stone and club. It was carving with others. Then, a swarm of fungi came and swallowed them and - reduced them all to rot, I presume." Aure peered down at the femur. "This one was the first to die."

He shoved it away, back into the many piles of bones - so it wasn't lonely in death without its birth-companions, the rib, the skull, the teeth...

"My mother, yes," the wyvern nodded, dipping his head low to shear off another piece of rat-meat and gulp it down whole. It wasn't very dignified. "I don't know the exact number of cycles, but - I would chance at least twenty. Twenty-five, perhaps."

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five

The moment, the moment Auré mentioned 'showing' what he saw, Desert's head reeled back. Okay, no. No using magic on him. Thanks. He could've meant some sort of lightplay, but- History? Nah. That was mind stuff. Not no way anybody's delving into his mind, not even his brother.

Okay. Good, it failed. He hadn't realized he'd made a nasty face at the thought and quickly fixed himself, shaking his head slightly to shake off the feeling about his muscles. Good. Explain, with words. None of this mind bull.

But, listen he did. Despite what he'd shown, he was interested in what Auré had found- everything here was rebels, weren't they?

Perhaps not. Perhaps they were just.. doing their job, and Astraea was being, well, Astraea. That fungi was the telltale sign of the master's bidding. At least they'd've been quick to die with his magic. Desert's head tracked the bone back to its resting place as Auré returned it to the pile, his ears flicking forward and back in quick succession. He couldn't know if what they were doing was rebellious or not, or.. Hm. Best not think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity, for now. "Ah," was all he really had to say for himself. Very insightful, Mister Rose.

Instead, he focused on the second line of dialogue. Then, he was right- he didn't mean to be hetero-normative, but without a father, what was left? Mother? Parent, probably; gender was.. Weird. He was pretty sure Hemlocke referred to themself as an it, but he kept his tongue held on that. It's not like either of them had any parts to define themselves. He really only guessed most of the time. Nobody had corrected him so far, so. Must be doing good.

Anyways. "Twenty cycles?" Desert rolling the remains of his piece of rat over his claws, staring at it in thought. He wasn't hungry anymore, sadly, but at least this was an interesting conversation. How.. How old was he? He'd been awake, what- three cycles between each trial so... Eighteen trials, three cycles each, plus the six he'd been awake now...

Oh, no. He was not good at quick math. Thirty... Forty something cycles? Oh dear. That didn't seem like much, but, he really didn't know how long it'd been specifically. Twenty, meanwhile? That wasn't really long at all. Though, perhaps, for these beings, that was long enough to make an impression. "I- hm. Is that considered a long time?" Might as well get more information through more and more questions. Auré- if he inherited his father's gem- must be around the same age, then, and oddly wise for it too.

This wasn't how you carried on a conversation, though. Obligated by the sense of false charisma, Desert folded his front claws before himself as he looked over Auré. This- was this not a vulture, then? Hm. There were differences yes- the size, first of all, followed by those ears and odd mustache adorning the beak. Was that inherited from his father, or mother, then? "Your... Mother, though- is she still around? In Canis- no, actually, is there anybody other than you and your... Bonebound, in here?" He still didn't believe that they thrived in this wasteland, much less survived, but. Well. He did expect an entire group of newborns to live in Hydra's tunnel of all places. At least he had reason to be there- maybe their awkward religion drove them to stay, but was that really helping anyone? No. No, it wasn't.

@Auré

Very insightful indeed, Rose. Aure wondered idly if he should've given further warning or even asked permission before attempting to show a vision of certain death. His conscience concluded the follow: could've, but didn't. For future reference, sure.

The wyvern set to finishing up his half of the rat, shearing away at the bone and picking any last bits of feasibly edible flesh. If there'd been even a bit of room left in his stomach (and if he hadn't had company to keep,) Aure would've risen into the air and sent the bones careening into the earth for marrow. The rats, at least, could have that precious substance. Anyways - "for us, maybe." A few cycles could feel like mere minutes to these old beings, to these Masters and Overseers and Champions. Or - oddly enough, they could feel like the same occasional slow crawl of little to no activity.

Maybe that much wasn't so different; he didn't think the older Gembound were very patient, seeing as their entire life's purpose seemed to be proving a necessity for their continued existence. Tragic, unsettling, disgusting.

Aure hesitated a little, ears flickering back. Desert Rose seemed to be growing a little more interrogative - and out of curiosity or not, the wyvern couldn't help but be suspicious. "Yes," he replied simply, tail feathers flicking as he finished his meal, shoved it away, and left it sitting between the two of them - right in the blood-puddle from cutting. His turn. "Was family not so common in the older days? Do you not have mothers and fathers and - siblings?"

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five

As Auré finished his piece of rat, Desert glanced to his nearly finished. Ah- he wasn't hungry anymore either, really. He'll take it back for Hemlocke, if they even eat meat. He watched with curiosity- was there much to even extract from these creatures, in terms of marrow? Desert practiced the movements on deer, perhaps, but it seemed a waste with smaller prey such as this.

Twenty cycles- hm. How long had the oldest been awake, then? No- Auré wouldn't know, possibly, being one made of older creatures, though perhaps Desert could seek out his mother. That didn't seem entirely necessary to his plans, though. Nah, it wasn't important. He had already asked many questions, and perhaps, he'd realized belatedly, he was beginning to become rather prying into this whole thing. Auré's ever so slightly discomfort flowed into him as he watched. A simple question- a simple answer.

The next one posed was- well, he kind of walked into it. What could he say? Was this about to be twenty questions? "We don't have family. Most of us, anyways- I had my brother, but we hatched separately from our creators. I think." He paused, staring down at the clay-red ground dusted with shards of bone. "At least, we know we're brothers. None of us remember anything about our hatching- or, hell, I may have children somewhere." Cripes, now he was getting sentimental. Had he ever given stone to anyone? He knew others had, but his memory was foggy on that. "My memory's shit at this point. But, no; nobody but us two really had siblings, or family, or- or real true allies, really."

He shrugged casually, trying to resume his hardened exterior with a sidelong 'ahem'. "I was lucky. Others weren't. I ended up fine, same as the rest of the champions without their creators." He could fire back another question after that, but- the reminder of his missing brother set a bad taste in his mouth, and he should really head back to Hemlocke. "Anyways." He squared his shoulders and raised his head. "I suppose since you've... Instilled yourself as the king of bones, I'd like to say that a few of us are going to set up a den in Tunnel P- the tunnel between here and Hydra. Do we have your blessing to hunt in Canis? We don't intend to invade any set territory- we are able to keep to our own devices, and we can keep you to yours."

Well, he didn't have the blessing of hunting this rat. Still, Desert gave a half-nod of his head at the request, clearly proposing a simple treaty to fall back on just in case.

@Auré

It was absolutely going to be twenty questions.

Aure tapped his claws idly against the stone beneath him, if only to consider - these old beings had hardly ever known family, hardly ever considered that they could be family. They did not know their creators and did not know their created. Having that lapse in memory... it must be terrifying. The wyvern couldn't imagine existing with only himself to guide his path: old man Aza'zel had done just that, after pushing everyone elsewhere. Look where that got him. No one to ask for help, no way to explain, no good method of coping.

Ah, that was a train of thought he shouldn't have considered.

Desert Rose claimed to be fine, but Aure could almost tell that he wasn't. Perhaps not damaged goods, but less than fine, nonetheless. This meeting had been for chance diplomacy, anyways, and a notification that the Champions would be moving into Tunnel P. With no authority or will to dictate where Gembound can and cannot be, the wyvern waved a wing, "I cannot control what you do or don't. I just ask that you're mindful of the bones and not attack any others in here. I'm sure that Tunnel P's too scarce to make you travel so far."

Grinding his beak together, running his tongue over his teeth, the Bone King sighed, "you shouldn't have to ask permission to live. Be good." And with that, he was off.

;exit aure
@Desert Rose Thirty-Five

To be honest, Desert's throat was getting kind of sore. He hadn't spoken at this length for some time now, and he watched on as Aure responded to his request. "Of course," he added simply. As much as he didn't fully understand the practices they had with the bones, he would respect their neighbors to the best of his ability.

He wasn't prepared for the second line. Shocked, he paused as Aure lifted off and away, leaving him mentally and morally high and dry. No- it was just some words. Of- of course he didn't have to ask permission to live. He hadn't before, but permission was always a... Good thing, wasn't it? The words were quickly stuffed down to echo in the very recesses of his mind as he backed off. Don't overthink it, Desert.

Shutting his eyes tight before letting out a sigh, Desert turned on his heels and made for Tunnel P once more, to rendezvous with Hemlocke and begin their warren together.

Exit Desert

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Game Master Dark

Vander

Auré

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Auré

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Auré

Vander