ORIGIN - hallowed ground

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FARADAY

I've fallen out of favour and I've fallen from grace

The first thing this little gemling noticed as consciousness dawned on her was how sore it was. It’s legs, to be precise, and everything below it. They were all bundled up, scrunched into tight angles that were really uncomfortable, actually, and with no room at all to stretch or move around. It was almost paralysed into one position, unable to generate any kind of momentum to kick out or break whatever was holding it down.

The second thing was the light. Oh, how terribly bright it was. They couldn’t open their eyes yet, nor would they want to, with all this fluid that they were submerged in, but the light still came through their thin, underdeveloped eyelids. It was like they were suspended in nothing at all, simply a glassy case to be observed through. They wished it would be darker, so that they could focus on leaving instead of being assaulted by this onslaught of senses, from compression to brightness to the liquid as it circulated around their fur.

What the gemling wanted most of all was to simply get out. It kicked and writhed as hard as it could, twisting itself into several uncomfortable forms. Once or twice it thought it could hear a crack, or the tinkling of Quartz onto whatever lay outside, but the fluid in it's ears and the mess of howling sound outside rendered it's hearing null and void.

doin' a think
"Yeah, that's a word alright."

It had been many cycles since they had walked the caves. Sick and dizzy with plague, the beings collectively known as “Umbra” had stumbled back into their birthplace. They returned to where they began, and they slept.

Caliante was the first to awaken, taking control of their body automatically as the rest quickly followed. One, two, three, four, five—five minds felt consciousness for the first time in a long, long while.

This was quickly followed by a burst of terrified confusion from Caliante. Oh, where—where is she? Why is she in her chrysalis? What happened? She doesn’t—she doesn’t remember, she doesn’t remember anything before this, what’s going on?!

Caliante… calm. A cold, languid voice makes itself present in her head, and Caliante knows this is one of the beings that share her body. Tarragon.

But how does—how does she know that? She doesn’t remember—why she’s here, or what happened before all this, or anything else? All she knows is that she’s not alone in her head, that this is normal for her, and she’s in her chrysalis—she can’t not panic!

The bat’s wings thrash in their gemstone shell as Caliante strikes out blindly, wanting to be out of here, of this pressing, claustrophobic cage; someone stirs and sends encouragement her way, also wanting to be out. She doesn’t—quite know who this one is—that can wait. She needs out.

With a forceful flick of her wings that she thinks isn’t quite all her, the gemstone all but explodes. Black sapphire shards shatter outwards, some going as far as to catch the wind and tumble off into the twisting storm in the center of the room.

The twisting storm in the center of the room.

The—the twister—no no no no no—

Panic at all the unknowns, all the blank spots in their head is replaced by pure and utter fear from Caliante. She screams, high-pitched, all thought of the outside world forgotten in favor of the instict to run. She doesn’t know why she’s afraid, or why the thought of the storm here is so fear-inducing, but she knows that she needs to flee, to get out of here, a sentiment echoed by all her other headmates—

—panicked wings refuse to open as the thought of ascending upwards into the wind is too terrifying for any of them, and instead, she runs blindly forward, smacking into a quickly crumbling shell of quartz.

Wait—what—no—

"Caliante." "Mercury." "Crack." "Tarragon." "Ripple."

Crack. Crack. Crack. SMASH.

The sounds came fairly rapidly, from somewhere down below--and the cat-dragon swept down with a few beats of her wings to have a look.

There was a creature there not unlike herself--with leathery bone-fingered wings and black fur!

"Ooooh! Hello!" she offered, ember eyes widening. She had never seen another creature like her, before--her father had the wings and the color, but no fur, and he was... well, huge. Enthusiastic, she continued, landing and folding her wings alongside her spined back. "Are you a dragon, too?"--and her phrasing might have made it seem as though she thought she was one--"My name's Bug! It's good to-"

Her thoughts, and words, interrupted as she realized abruptly that Umbra had smashed off a chrysalis! Her fireglow eyes sprang wider and she turned, peering at it. "Oh, neat! Who's in there? Hi! That's a big one," she added, casting a friendly glance toward the bat. Whatever was inside was struggling to get out, it seemed, and Bug--ever-friendly, if mischievous--rocked up on her hind legs, hooked claws extending from her forepaws, to try and help pry a piece or two away.

The gemstone, though, was thick; and after a moment she dropped back to all fours, studying it with a worriex expression. "Can you get out?!" she called, a little louder.

bg texture by Eddi van W. on Flickr

@Faraday

FARADAY

I've fallen out of favour and I've fallen from grace

The gemling was just about to try and kick out again before they were knocked around without any real warning. They cried out in alarm, feeling all their limbs jostle against the hard gemstone of their chrysalis. Sharp bits of gem gathered in what was now the bottom of the chrysalis, but they felt no closer to getting out than before their dropkick.

Something, though the gemling didn’t know what, rocked the case, scraping what sounded like tinny little claws across their stone prison. The Okapi felt a spike of fear shoot through them. What if they were going to hurt them? Or eat them?

They felt a fresh wave of adrenaline carry them through another kick- stronger this time, with more fear and desire to survive beyond the first fifteen minutes of their existence.

Still, useless. Their kick did nothing but splinter the inside of the gem, sending more sharp bits of quartz to grind against their haunches.

doin' a think
"Yeah, that's a word alright."

@Umbra

These are—children, Tarragon slowly realizes, past the panic of her headmates. One is in a chrysalis, new and frantically kicking at the gem, and the other is just barely an adult but Tarragon can't help but think of her as a child, and she gets the sense that she is older than both of them.

As Caliante stares, wide-eyed, at the newcomer, seeing leathery wings and rough spines upon a rather catlike body, Tarragon is filled with a sense of urgency. This place—is not safe, not with the howling winds, especially not for children like these two, even a child that can fly. There is only one thing to do, then—

—her protectiveness surges as she pushes her way to the front, a shiver of fear causing their body to tremble as every instinct in their mind screams that this place is not safe. She—wants to get out of here, very much, much like her headmates.

But there is a child in its chrysalis, still struggling to get out and free themselves, and that comes first. The other child—the one who had asked if they were a dragon, is scraping at it, with claws that scratch at the clear gemstone but don’t quite catch, the wind that reaches even here rustling her fur, and Tarragon drags herself across the ground on leathery wings to come forward and assist her.

”It isss… big,” Tarragon comments, finding herself having to climb the gemstone itself to get at its weak point, the cracks and scratches vaguely etched into the clear stone. She picks at it for a few moments, trying to loosen the shards and make the chrysalis weaker, and then, after a few more moments of consideration, she hooks a wing into the now-larger cracks as best she can and pulls.

A decently-sized hole in the gemstone begins to form as it crumbles under her efforts, but Tarragon doubts she can make any more progress in such a thick shell; she turns and shifts back, perching on the very top of the chrysalis, looking down at the… dragon? The name is unfamiliar to her; she shifts her head and looks over the wings so very similar to hers and asks, ”What isss a… dragon?”

She glances down at the figure she can see through the gemstone below her, wondering if the gembound can get out. It seems weak, and the chrysalis is curiously strong… it might need more effort to shatter.

”Could you break the chryssaliss further, little one?” she asks her. ”Thisss stone should be weak.”

She hopes, anyways, for the sake of the gembound inside. She can’t help but worry for the poor child…

"Caliante." "Mercury." "Crack." "Tarragon." "Ripple."

@Bug

Bug stepped back, watching with wide eyes; the strange bat-thing, so like herself, had broken a hole now in the gemstone. Brightly, she answered, all the while trying to maneuver and squeeze herself closer to get a look into the chrysalis--from a safe distance of a foot or two, of course, to avoid a kick to the face. Whatever was inside had something hard on them, something that cracked ominously whenever it struck rock. She didn't want that hitting her in the face!

"Um. Dad's a dragon. And his other kids and his friend are dragons! They're-..." (Okay, so the thing inside was indeed big, but so far indistinct through the small hole) "um. REALLY big! They have wings like you and me, and some of them are black and some are white and they have spines and lots of claws. Dad breathes fire! He trades stuff for other stuff but he likes gold the most," the cat-hybrid continued to babble.

Meanwhile she was rocking up on her hind legs, claws extending out to grip the edges of the hole that the bat had made, leveraging her strength and pressing backwards, attempting to open it further.

"Hey!" she called out, cheerfully. "Can you hear us, in there?"

Her bulk was still too small to do much, so after a moment she dropped back down and away, making room for the larger thing within to kick.

bg texture by Eddi van W. on Flickr

@Faraday

FARADAY

I've fallen out of favour and I've fallen from grace

The strange beings just kept shaking and rocking the cage, but no harm came to the little gemling. Eventually, sound filtered in from the hole that one of the creatures had made- it sounded less kill, kill, eat and more worry, concern, fear to the gemling’s surprise. They couldn’t open their eyes just yet, but they felt pressure releasing from their gem cage, and reveled in the feeling.

There were voices-- and then… clear as day, one of the creatures directed their voice down and into their chrysalis, saying words that the being didn’t understand just yet- but she felt the emotions carried through the tone of their voice.

Cheerful, happy, excited.

Whatever these… things were, they probably weren’t going to hurt them now, and the thought reassured the gemling enough to relax. The creature’s voice had a questioning tone to it- maybe they could help! If they just somehow let them know they were in there, and they needed help, then maybe they could be free! A keening noise built up in the back of their throat, all choked up by mucus, but nonetheless powerful, and more than a little desperate.

They scrabbled against the stone walls, feeling each fracture give a little more with the combined pressure. There was no doubt that the next push would cause it to shatter entirely, finally freeing the trapped gembound from their cage.

doin' a think
"Yeah, that's a word alright."

@Umbra

The… dragon?—Bug, she had introduced herself as, all the while chattering away ever so excitedly with no regard for the swirling storm behind them—seems to have no luck in shattering the gemstone; it seems that her brute force approach simply isn’t working, even with those sharp, sharp claws of hers.

Tarragon is almost envious of the child; what fun claws like that would be when hunting! Wings are good to glide and strike from above, but she hardly has much in the way of natural weapons besides her too-small teeth. If only, if only… she tilts her head in thought. Bug describes dragons as large, black or white, and having spines and claws.

“I do not think…” (here, she hesitates, caught on the division between “I” and “this body”, and decides not to confuse Bug) “...I am much of a dragon. I only have three clawsss, and they are very sssmall.” Here, she flexes said claws on her wings for emphasis, before her attention is drawn back to the little gembound.

Hm. It seems to be moving, slowly and gradually finally freeing itself from the gemstone, but she thinks it could use a little extra push.

The keening noise that bubbles out from within the chrysalis, desperate and powerful even through the muffled confines of the clear gemstone, tells her that it definitely needs an extra push.

I breathe fire! ...someone comments, as if offended at being left out of this discussion. I can do things with fire.

S-sorry, I don’t know who you are... Caliante says, tone soft, and Tarragon lets the discussion play out in the back of her head as she carefully lowers herself down to the small hole within the gemstone, the network of cracks across the surface of the chrysalis now considerably bigger.

It is far easier to tear pieces away from the bulk of the gemstone than it was just a few moments ago; she occupies herself with doing so at the same time she listens to the conversation going on in the back of her head, curious as to who this… new? headmate is. She gets the feeling she has known the others, knows their names from their memory, but this one is newer, in a sense.

I’m—I’m Mercury! You guys don’t know who I am? He—he? he.—responds, just the slightest bit of offense in his tone.

Ssshould we? Tarragon interjects, huffing externally as she works on a particularly large piece of the chrysalis, muscles straining as she pulls and pulls at it—

—and as soon as she manages to wedge it out, the pressure on the chrysalis is too much for it. She only gets a moment’s warning to take to the air—doing so in an odd leaping motion, snapping her wings out to glide to the ground rather than taking true flight, swaying from side to side in a slithering motion to avoid falling from what was once her perch—as the cracks suddenly spiderweb across the whole of the glassy crystal, and then it breaks with a myriad of sharp cracks, leaving the fledgling exposed.

She can’t help but be a little proud of herself—finally, the child is free!

When I speak.

When I think.

@Bug

Bug squinted, eyeing over Umbra."Maybe you're half dragon, and half-... uh, mouse? Or rat!" she suggested, brightly. It made sense to her, anyway; she was half dragon, half cat, and they weren't too dissimilar!

When the stone at last cracked and fell away, her fur puffed up a little in excitement. "You did it!" she cried, and then bounded forward, sniffing closely (but again, not too closely) at the gap.

There was someone inside, and they were still alive, by looks.

"Come out!" she urged, cheerfully. A spin and a swish of her tail took her in a quick trot around Umbra, peering at the chrysalis from another angle. "It's safe out here, for now, I think!"

bg texture by Eddi van W. on Flickr

@Faraday

FARADAY

I've fallen out of favour and I've fallen from grace

Finally. Is the only thought that flashes through their mind. Their eyes crease and struggle to open, their limbs pushing upwards and out through the gemstone, making little noises of contentment at their newfound freedom.

Wow, that’s long. She-- and she’s sure of that now-- stretches, and the limb just keeps on going. The cool wind whipped against the gemling’s skinny limb, but they just kept going, making movements that seemed like a hybrid of crawling and clambering out of the stone shell. Their eyes cracked open, squinty and unsure. The world around them was still light, and so much of it. But there were other things, too, like the two black blurs that were quickly reforming themselves into actual shapes, strange as they were.

And wow-- they were so... tiny. Were these strange beings the same ones that had caused her such panic, fear and then eventually freedom? How was it possible?

The one with four legs spoke, but it just rolled off of the gemling. Instead she squinted at them, brain whirring to try and make sense of what she was seeing. She made to bend down and look closer at the strange pair, in particular the four legged one for more answers.

Big mistake.

Her head spun as she dipped her neck lower to the ground. A wave of dizziness overtook her, making her legs unfit to hold up her large body.

She stumbled jerkily backwards, and to the right, to try and offset the feeling of the world spinning around her head. The gemling collapsed onto the hard dirt floor with an ’oomph!’, the breath knocked out of them by the awkward landing.

doin' a think
"Yeah, that's a word alright."

@Umbra

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