ORIGIN - Seeking Reji

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Oliver was searching.

He'd promised the Kingdom of Eridanus that he'd look for the one called Reji, and seek information, along with talking to his father about potential protection for the group. But Black had been tied up with the coming of Raheerah, and was guarding the chrysalids of the fallen. That left Reji.

Oliver intended to go cave-by-cave. He'd already checked Polaris--literally on fire--and Orion in between--also on fire; he'd not, however, investigated either one particualrly closely. He'd come here to check on Black, first, so it was here he'd truly start his search.

He found a quiet clearing, squelchy with mud and thick with fog, the sound of insects and the haunting cries of Hallowed Callers ringing through the air. And here, he sat, and concentrated.

He'd grown up in Cetus, side-by-side with many of the Children of Rot. His mother was one of them--the crow Eve--but she'd spent a great deal of time in her chrysalis, and Oliver didn't come back here as often as he should. Most of his time these days was spent in Eridanus or its surrounds, though he certainly still knew his way around, here.

Send out the magic. Reach with my senses. Look for them. The Children of Rot, and anyone else.

The faint rush of wind through the trees shifted into a roaring, rustling gale as his mind slipped among them. The plants: the vines, the thick swathes of marsh grass, and whatever of the trees were still-living all played fleeting host to the bird-dog's seeking senses. He half-stumbled and ended crouched in the mud, trembling with the effort. He could vaguely sense a few gatherings of creatures.

Nests of birds. Herds of deer. Smaller groups, ones he couldn't quite identify. Nests of Cave Spiders among the Crags, which he knew full-well to avoid.

It'd take awhile to make the rounds, but he could at least glide between some of the areas.

He started in a ring, heading around the western wall and south, though he avoided most of the rocky regions. All the while, he called--"HELLO? ANYONE THERE? ANY ROT-CHILDREN? It's me, Oliver!" while he circled. He startled one of the marsh deer herds, flinching as they exploded into bioluminescent flight, their glow flashing bright and confusing as they bounded into the fog. And then he crept along, periodically calling out, for whatever or whoever he might find.

Hooves sounded through the shallows, flight and bioluminescence flashing even in its weaker top-eyesight. The sudden light was enough to jar it from the aimless 'hunting mode' it usually occupied - it was easier to sit and simply wait for prey to amble along than actively hunt. The slime-beast moved slightly in the water, if only to move its neck out of the line of attack. Just because the goop hardened with sharp impacts didn't mean Phlegethon didn't feel the full brunt of it. Those Marsh Striders would simply think they were running through pebbly marsh.

All was quiet after a time. It wasn't hungry enough to justify snagging a straggler - but it was curious enough to investigate the disturbance. The act seemed like something responsible that a rot-child should do.

Phlegethon's head carefully breached the water again, skimming a rather thick layer of algae from the surface as it drifted along. Extending its neck a little and hanging with its chin barely touching the murk, Phlegethon's eye roved. No sign of heat, fire, brimstone, the like. Raheerah had not come to disturb the peace. Not yet.

But what had?

A shadow drifted overhead, and Phlegethon near-instantly glared up at it. Something dart-like, black, winged. The same shape as Sekith. Sekith did not often fly. It was just as lazy as the other nox-children. Phlegethon disregarded the thought that it may be kin flying about. Perhaps it was an odd lesser - ah, no, it had been speaking, calling, hadn't it? Looking for a rot-child, introducing himself as Oliver. The name didn't ring a bell.

After a long pause full of contemplating (and clearly no answer,) Phlegethon came abreast on the shore and warbled, "DOWN HERE." With a low, bass hum, it called again, "I AM A ROT-CHILD YOU SEEK." It watched the moving shape with a keen, red eye and politely snapped its jaw shut - should this 'Oliver' approach - awaiting further words.

@Oliver

Oliver's short glide drifted him to a halt, his head turning toward the voice. The Children of Rot were, as he well knew, very reclusive; he'd never even (to his memory, at least) met Nox. So he had no idea what this thing was. For the briefest of moments he hesitated, fearing a trap, but then his good (and somewhat naively-trusting) nature took over and he landed with a sucking thwuck in the mud at the water's edge.

"Hi," he started off, gently, folding his feathers back. "Um--I don't think we've met? I'm Oliver. Eve's my mom," he added, and then--again hesitating--"But I don't know if you've met her, either, 'cause she sleeps a lot."

Oliver gave an awkward little bow, a sort of friendly, respectful gesture to this stranger. "Have you heard of anyone named, uh, Reji? A blue, small thing with white and black stone on its head?"

Oliver paused--he wasn't sure he'd gotten the description quite right. The stone sounded wrong, but he couldn't be sure. Oh, well; he settled in, eyeing Phlegethon over. The creature was large, sleek, and black; it had a sense of other to it that he couldn't have quite articulated. The slime, the color, the lack of visible eyes...

"You look really cool, by the way," Oliver blurted.

@Phlegethon

Red-eye peeping out for just a moment, Phlegethon regarded the crow-dog now half-submerged into the muck. Skin crawling curiously, it blew muck from its blowhole and closed its mouth. "Hello," it hummed quietly, politely bowing its head in greeting, "I did not know you, Oliver. Not Eve, either." Little tell of the bird seemed to occur, it seemed, in the slime-beast's proximity. "She is a rot-child, too?" Phlegethon sounded surprised, though it drew back its head in consideration.

They were few and far, interspersed. If Eve slept a lot - in a chrysalis, it presumed - then there was no reason for Phlegethon to know of her.

"Thank you," it blurted back, still polite but stalling for thought. This creature knew of Reji - hiding in the muck and mire with other refugees. Her appearance, too. However disguised in mud, it'd be difficult to mistake a white and black stone, especially on her head. Phlegethon murmured quietly to itself, a slight telling factor that it did know and that it was thinking about dispensing that information verbally. Let no one say a faceless creature automatically had a poker face.

On one hand, the strange little thing was not actively under the protection of the rot-children. On the other, there was a sort of obligation not to freely lead things their way. On a third hand, this crow-dog could easily just wait and follow it on a shipment of food to the refugees. That is, if Phlegethon did not dispose of him. It was not about to kill the child of a rot-child. A rot-grandchild would not be set on fire.

So, it said simply, "yes."

A pause.

"Why?"

Very intelligent conversational maneuvering, bud.

@Oliver

//text goes here//

"Mom is, yeah! But-... she sleeps a lot." It was an admission offered with a little bit of sadness. Children of Rot or not, Eve was rarely around, and Oliver didn't get to see his mother enough. She always seemed so tired. "I grew up here, but I left a long time ago, to help grow plants around the caves. A lot of them are pretty bare."

"Um--what's your name?" Oliver asked this hesitantly, but politely, as he lowered his haunches to sit in the muck. It seemed weird to just address someone as "hey, you," basically, and the hybrid had been raised to be... well. Polite, yes; but also loud. Thankfully, he'd ignored the second lesson.

To Phlegethon's blunt, if strange, honesty Oliver seemed to take no offense. He responded in kind, offering real information with no signs of holding back, as if totally trusting this stranger to be both who he said he was (not a name, but a Child of Rot) and to exchange honest information freely. Maybe it was a Children of Rot assumption, or perhaps Oliver was just naive... or hopeful. "Okay, so--I'm with a bunch of Gembound who care for the plants. And a few days ago, Astraea--the big stag?--turned up. He asked us to find Reji and kill her. He said she's, uhh... got something to do with this really bad fungus that takes control of minds, and makes others serve and feed it and eventually turns them into husks and I guess they die? We aren't gonna run out and kill her, 'cause we aren't like that, and not everyone trusts Astraea I guess. But I said I'd try and find her and find out more information?" Oliver then halted, uncertainly, hesitating a little. He wasn't really sure what to make of all of this, though he seemed perfectly at his ease before a Gembound that could probably kill him in an instant.

@Phlegethon

Oliver had begun as a rot-child - the mote of trust it held blossomed greatly at the notion. Once a rot-child, always a rot-child. Familial ties were forever, even if they were reminiscent of competition and survival (see: the Nox-spawn.) Phlegethon nodded curiously, buzzing, "growing plants is good." A simple statement, but it seemed pleased to know that. "Is it hard?"

A soft waa? escaped it as it was asked for a name. It hadn't introduced itself? The slime-beast swore it had. Tilting its head, extending its neck some more and blowing the rest of the muck in its throat out, it called, "I am Phlegethon." Then, to clarify, "a rot-child." If that wasn't clear.

Oliver didn't show the restraint it'd expected, fully and completely spilling all of the beans. Not one was left in the can. He was with plant-Gembound, gardeners - and one of the masters (Astraea had been one of them, right?) had approached them with a request. Find and kill. Hunt and destroy. The part of fungi sounded peculiar, odd - but the crow-dog didn't seem the type to lie and turn against. He was a rot-child. Rot-children, it childishly also concluded, did not do those sorts of things.

"She and others are hiding here. We do not protect them," Phlegethon admitted, drawing in its neck, "I was told to hunt for them and bring food. There are not many - but two are large." Ruby-red eye appearing again, out of sheer curiosity, it hummed. Perhaps it was worth investigating. They were to learn from the caves. Questions would be wise to ask. "I can lead you. You will ask, I will stay. To protect you and - mediate."

Oh... big word.

@Oliver

Oliver hesitated, in some confusion. There's others? -Large? He nodded, and looked to Phlegethon, thinking for a moment. The stranger's other questions and comments registered a little late, and he quickly reorganized his thoughts, addressing them in a slightly tangled heap.

"Growing plants is a little hard. It's lots of magic. Canis is mostly bones so I've been growing a big grove in there! It has some trees, now, and lots of plants and flowers, and a couple pools of purified water. And it's nice to meet you, Phlegethon." Polite. Friendly. And it was genuine; so was the attempt at a friendly smile. "Listen, I'd really like that? But do me one other favor, please. If they attack me or something could you, uh, warn the other Children? Especially if you can't beat them--even though you're big. And could you let uhh... Rift know? If you can find him," he added, "or Mercurius, or Black. He's my dad," Oliver added. He didn't know Reji, but he knew that someone hearing 'hey someone wants us to kill you' might lead to some argument. Not that he was going there to kill, but still.

"Was there any sign of any fungus?" he added, thoughtful, pushing himself to his feet.

@Phlegethon

Growing was the opposite of destruction. Destruction was easy to create, difficult to control. Phlegethon mulled over that fact, and turned the proverbial tables. Growth was difficult to create, easy to control. Oliver had brought life to Canis - a cave it had never been to. "I do not think I will see your grove," it hummed, almost mournfully, "I cannot leave water easily. Too heavy and cannot move." To demonstrate, it slapped its flukes against the shallows, snaking forward only a few inches and pushing several pounds of mud out of the way of its chest.

An idea sparked: "you can show me. With a light." Because, yes, all Gembound were capable of light-bending and shadow-casting. Phlegethon seemed to consider itself an outlier to this fact.

It sobered quietly, though, recoiling at the thought that Oliver thought Reji and her kin would attack. She had not reacted badly to being probed by the other rot-children - only admonishing that the masters would 'kill the shit out of us.' "I will warn," Phlegethon offered, "but I will fight." The slime-beast started to shuffle back into the marsh, a bit sideways like a crab. "Rift is green cat, yes?" It'd only vaguely heard of the Eridanus King.

"You can ride or I will lead," it boomed, tilting slightly so its back was available. Even with its head under the water, it continued speaking without hindrance. As for the fungus... "I have not looked," it admitted, "but the air tastes of old death. Rotten. I do not see a rot-pile like the Children's. I do not know."

@Oliver

"Oh, I--don't have really detailed light magic, like that. But if you want, I can make you a garden, here? A small place, uhh, with the same sort of flowers I planted, and the same kind of lights?" It was a gentle, hopeful offer; he wouldn't at all mind, and it'd be nice to see the result of his efforts here. Cetus was full of life, but it was dark and stagnant life, lurking and spiky and dangerous. There was little color or pleasure to be had from it. Oliver wouldn't change that, not exactly--but a small place of respite could be nice.

"Rift is green cat," Oliver parroted in agreement, nodding, oblivious to the fact that he'd mimicked Phlegethon's speech pattern. "Um--I can ride? If you don't mind. It sounds fun," he added, with a sort of apologetic hopefulness. To the idea of stink, he thought for a long moment, pondering. "Well... if I do get killed, see if you can find Astraea, then. Maybe warn Dragon first, but I bet he'd want to know it's here. Fungus does stink." And then, maybe, he won't kill Rift and Mercy.

Oliver readied himself, unsure if he should just clamber onto Phlegethon's back or what; he seemed almost excited about all this. There was trepidation about Reji and the possible fungus, of course, but a ride-! On Phlegethon! That was cool.

@Phlegethon

Oh - "that would be nice," Phlegethon hummed. It wasn't a materialistic thing, but perhaps it would be nice to have... a little area to sightsee in. Oliver would be bringing an otherwise inaccessible place to it, a gift greater than he could know. "I need to find something for you, then." A gift in return. What that would entail would come to mind at some point. It wished it had not left that buzzing pearl at the bottom of Pisces's main lagoon.

Rift was green cat. Phlegethon nodded sagely, pushing its head through the algae and adding yet more inky black to the murky water. "No mind," it assured, moving closer to the shore for accessibility. From giving other creatures rides, it had learned that there were few handholds. "Grab what you must. It will not hurt me." Those things could range anything from the spines on the back of its head to just its skin. Somewhere, the slime condensed and became a thick, fatty layer. It was simultaneously warming and protective. Phlegethon didn't feel things puncturing it very well. Hitting? That was another story.

With certainty, Phlegethon added, "you will not be killed. Oliver." Why was he so preoccupied with that thought? So worried about perishing? "I promise that and my warning." It bobbed in the water slightly, as if beckoning.

@Oliver

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