Feb 06 2020, 07:20 AM
Open to all current Hive members. This will likely be the final Mother thread before major events occur.
Things had been... changing, lately. Those with Mother's voice in their minds would have found themselves made busy: a feeling of industriousness sweeping through them. Their orders had been clear enough: bring the Children of Rot into the fold. Bring Lesser Gembound, as many as you can. Feed Mother. Tend Mother. Protect Mother. Spread Mother around the caves. When they did this, all felt right with the world. When they did not, they... rested.
"Rested" was the only word for it. It was as if their minds switched off, long periods of peaceful nothing in their heads. They would have often forgotten to eat, to drink, unless Mother reminded them--and she did, before it ever went too far, but excess weight was a thing of the past. A rot-like smell caressed them now, and often, small pockets of fuzzy white fungus sprouted in unobtrusive areas of their bodies. Only brief periods of real thought, real consciousness, came when they were not working. Mostly, worked, and worked, and worked; and then, they rested.
Perhaps strangest of all was the new, and compulsive, obsession the Hive members would have gained over the past week, with the concept of order. All things must be in their rightful place. All things must be neat. Lined up. Even when they did not eat, they must be flawlessly groomed. Even when they did not drink, every speck of mud had to be cleaned away. Food for Mother might be arranged in rigid rows. Gembound keeping watch might find the urge to position themselves just so. Anything out of place, out of order, would trigger irritation, aggravation. It just... wasn't... right.
And now, Mother was calling! Joyful day-
"Children," her voice boomed in their minds--for her body in Cetus was a writhing, pulsing mass of several thousand pounds, now; and her nests elsewhere were growing--she was always hungry, was their mother. "Children, come to me, and tell me what you have accomplished."
Things had been... changing, lately. Those with Mother's voice in their minds would have found themselves made busy: a feeling of industriousness sweeping through them. Their orders had been clear enough: bring the Children of Rot into the fold. Bring Lesser Gembound, as many as you can. Feed Mother. Tend Mother. Protect Mother. Spread Mother around the caves. When they did this, all felt right with the world. When they did not, they... rested.
"Rested" was the only word for it. It was as if their minds switched off, long periods of peaceful nothing in their heads. They would have often forgotten to eat, to drink, unless Mother reminded them--and she did, before it ever went too far, but excess weight was a thing of the past. A rot-like smell caressed them now, and often, small pockets of fuzzy white fungus sprouted in unobtrusive areas of their bodies. Only brief periods of real thought, real consciousness, came when they were not working. Mostly, worked, and worked, and worked; and then, they rested.
Perhaps strangest of all was the new, and compulsive, obsession the Hive members would have gained over the past week, with the concept of order. All things must be in their rightful place. All things must be neat. Lined up. Even when they did not eat, they must be flawlessly groomed. Even when they did not drink, every speck of mud had to be cleaned away. Food for Mother might be arranged in rigid rows. Gembound keeping watch might find the urge to position themselves just so. Anything out of place, out of order, would trigger irritation, aggravation. It just... wasn't... right.
And now, Mother was calling! Joyful day-
"Children," her voice boomed in their minds--for her body in Cetus was a writhing, pulsing mass of several thousand pounds, now; and her nests elsewhere were growing--she was always hungry, was their mother. "Children, come to me, and tell me what you have accomplished."
@Sergei (Legion) @Zelk (Aquamarine, Tethys) @Pallas (Solis) @Lamia (Azrael, Wilder) @Howl