ORIGIN - clouds made of ambien

Pages: 1 2

@Orthoclase-Alpha !
continuation of chloroform sky
(damask internal dialogue voice) YO! YOU AIN'T SEEN POLARIS, KID!

over the threshold, and the mouth of the tunnel poured into wide open space. left and right, violet walls; up above, a winking ceiling; all around, a crystalline landscape, terraformed in points and facets and perfect mathematics. what is this place — ? damask held her breath as she soared into the sensory deluge of polaris, afraid to let it out, as if she might drown. why did i wait so long? cyan light soaked her feathers in a brilliant bath. she traced the room in awestruck arcs, craning her neck, effortlessly afloat on black sails gone lunar. a great, glowing spire twisted high in the distance, and her eyes waxed into full moons, a shade short of white. what held me back? something sang in her chest, a thrum of energy at her fluttering heart. almost how she felt in orion, but ... not exactly the same. that was home, to her. this was more like a theme park, coasters and castles and glow-in-the-dark fluorescents.

it's ... stunning. dazzling. amazing.

she emptied her lungs in a sigh taken shape: "beautiful." at last her gaze fell to the being below, one hundredfold her size. a counterwind kept her pace in alignment with theirs, absently augmented with an angling brake of her wings where her focus faltered. from a bird's-eye view, their silhouette was almost elegant — the sinuous shape of a shark underwater. their mane rippled and shimmered in true neon green, spinal scutes a shifting mosaic. not a monstrosity, but a work of abstract art.

hey! earth to damask: they're the reason you're here. not sightseeing. aren't you supposed to be earning their trust, making friends, bonding and all? or did you forget about that?

right. the link, the search, the deal. a jolt of self-consciousness passed through her nerves. she shook it away with a roll of her shoulders, momentarily swaying in the air — but a flustered pinch clung to her features as she looked over the colossus. "first time here," she confessed, her voice aquiver with the slightest hint of a nervous chuckle. come on, kid, let's act a little less enamored. a clear of her throat, and the wobble was gone, traded for a measure of her usual professionalism. "full disclosure. and you, alpha?"

Without unnatural darkness smothering all ambience from the Core's entrance, the threshold between tunnel and cavern was clean-cut, save for the soil it tracked in on its own six feet. Saccharine odors and luminescent moss gave way to the faint scent of ozone and heady doses of color. Glimmering spots marked the ceiling like the pseudo-stars in Orion. Amaranthine hues painted the walls where they weren't so touched by the intense glow of the gemstone twisting to meet the very top.

The orthoclase recognized it as the Spire within seconds of consideration — and promptly tore its wide-eyed gaze away from it to observe the rest of the wide-open expanse. It was mostly crystals and the scarce few Lesser not spooked away by an immense predator slinking through without much care for being quiet.

Not as breathtaking as its initial thoughts dictated. Alpha noted down too many similarities to the starry vault and too many prospects of attack from different directions. No cover. It gnashed its teeth, failing to swallow down that self-determined pride. Wait to disengage and leave when this one does. The monstrous hybrid had already lost any true interest in searching for any sorts of links.

The little bird wheeled around, confessed that it was her "first time here," and served it as a question.

"Yes," the orthoclase clipped in response, head swinging up to meet that miniscule silhouette. There was no reason to hide that. It grunted, paced a few steps, and paused. A somewhat baleful growl rumbled through its throat, eyes darting to and fro, scanning for figures it could not sense magically. Alpha bared its teeth at the lack of sight, quills pricking. Otherwise, it stayed its course and kept its head in place — aligned with the shoulders, bearing absolutely none of the conversational weight.

@Damask

@Orthoclase-Alpha !

really? never? blink, blink. well! that's a surprise, but ooh, hold that thought. we've got a problem. looking down, damask saw the same pacing, growling predator she had first encountered, quills up, teeth out. a vestige of fear flared and died in seconds' time. it's not me. something else is bothering them. the question was what. she followed their head, tracking its turns this way and that. four blazing eyes swept the room, and hers made it six. a second appraisal's results were the same as the first's — stone, moss, and mineral patterned in harmony; a vast expanse of otherworldly attractions. okay, bleeding heart. they're not you. all right, well, thinking objectively ... here's a hint. they were cool in the tunnel, once they knew you weren't a threat. what's changed?

... the walls. from a grounded and irrationally wary perspective, (that is, alpha's,) polaris was too open — wide-sided, high-ceilinged, soaked in light. checks out, but ... why were they so insecure? it almost felt like they were running, hiding. it didn't make any sense. damask flew ahead and alighted on a high scimitar of crystal, peering down as she balanced her weight. screw it up, and they'll bounce on you. keep 'em or lose 'em. what's it gonna be?

an intake of breath, and she exchanged one spell for another, spreading her senses throughout the cave ... only to draw back, wincing. alpha's anatomy — four lungs, one massive heart, and far too much blood; what's with that, anyway? — was too much to take. working around it would require more time than she had. there goes your party trick. tough luck, kid. but ... hm. slowly her eyes crept into the distance, sharp and intent, searching deep in all directions. making a point of it.

oh, no. ohh, no. not a good idea. don't do it, don't do it —

"we're the only ones here," damask reported, swiveling back to alpha. nothing in her voice betrayed the flutter in her chest. "as for lessers, just four packs of rats, thirty-seven in total; plus the usual birds, rabbits, mice. not a problem, right?" a pause, considering. "... i sincerely doubt that anything would want to square up with you, though." not flattery, but a casual aside, trailing away into the obvious: i mean, look at you. she shifted from foot to foot, nausea beginning to build. ... at least that part was honest.

Toxic eyes fixed on the silhouette as it drew closer, morphing into that more familiar monochromatic figure atop a far-reaching crystal. It braced - for whatever reason - for words that didn't come; instead watching her head move as if on a mechanical arm, clearly scanning their surroundings as well and again with the incapability. A baleful hiss was barely kept in its throat, quills rattling higher at each tick of a Lesser in the Caves (only 37 rats?!)

"We're the only ones here."

Tch. Alpha fixed on its surroundings again. Stone and eyes felt out for magicka that slipped easily out of its grip. Its shoulders hiked up nearly to its eyes, claws carving shallow ruts into the stone. Damn MAGIC - "Not a problem, right? ... I sincerely doubt that anything would want to square up with you, though."

A brief scan, mostly for show than anything else, and then it went off: "no cave is empty; there are more than forty rats" (if Damask was smart, that'd go uncorrected) "and you're lying and think I'm in need of —" Surprisingly, most of that dialogue was delivered in its trademark monotone, albeit at deeper and more tumbling pitch than before. The orthoclase advanced on her choice of perch, head dropping low with the cruel thought of smart of it to get up high - can't jump up there and rip it to shreds instead of saying what I'm thinking.

It circled, as if it were a bloodthirsty shark in the choppy current surrounding a stone - or perhaps a polar bear waiting for one minor slip to end a seal's chance at escape. "What'd contest me? Dragons — giants, powerful things that are out of control — all over the Caves," it barked. Alpha shook itself, lurched toward the crystal and planted its frontmost limbs against the surface. "You can't see them before they see you, they fly too fast to counter, spew fire and ice — and you should worry about them!"

Hauling up until four legs were propped against it, the monster devolved into inarticulate, low growling once again. Talons curled into gemstone with a horrific shriek. It clearly wouldn't be able to clamber up the rock before Damask took off; regardless, this seemed to all be display, lashing out against whatever was closest.

@Damask

@Orthoclase-Alpha

misstep, and damask was stumbling hard. all of a sudden, she felt very sick, the crux of it a sour taste on her tongue. of all the things you could've said, that had to be it. a straight-up lie. and it'd come out easy, no tells, no hesitation. weeks of practice were to blame for that, but with giggle, it was in self-defense. this was different — manipulative, well-meaning or not. (like what auré did to you.) and as a move, it wasn't even smart, because lo and behold: it had not succeeded. at alpha's rebuttal, she clamped her mouth shut, synapses firing like bullets.

this was not good. in fact, it was very, very bad — she was well and truly caught. wait: how, though? plausible numbers, ambiguous range, no mistakes to give it away ... plus, did they really look the type to spend their time counting rodents? where exactly were their sources? and that last accusation, the one they cut short ... they were jumping to conclusions. exactly as they had in the tunnel.

which didn't change anything — unless she could use it to placate them.

damask stared in slack-jawed dismay too strong to conceal, wings shuffling at her sides as the colossus circled below. their weight reared onto her perch with a massive smack!, and she spooked near-entirely, winnowing against her talons' grip. only sheer rationale kept her rooted to the spot, wings settling back into place. they can't reach. look at their spine, the way it's bent. that position is unsustainable. and even then ... it still isn't targeted. they'd threaten and kill any slab of meat in sight. but why? a grasping ask of magic, one beat, two, and ... nothing. oh, come on — ! monstrous claws curled in synch with hers, the off-note screeching white-hot in her ears.

"alpha." (be cool ...) she looked them in the eye as levelly as she could. (... talk 'em down.) "i'm sorry. i didn't know; i made a mistake. but i don't think you need anything — i think you're interesting, and i'm trying to understand." (okay, overcompensating much? starting to sound a little too honest, kid, tighten those reins —) "look. something's up. i could count off every pulse in this room, swear up and down you aren't in danger, and it wouldn't matter to you. so tell me this: what would?"

"... you're interesting, and..."

The nightmarish shriek of claw-in-gem subsided, as did its growling fit and rattling quills. It didn't smooth down, wasn't stunned into silence like it had in the Tunnel; it merely paused for a moment, running the calculations in its head. Immediate instinct discarded the compliment (and the apology, by proxy) as a poor attempt to soothe or make up the difference between them.

Alpha innately knew that it was... different from the creatures of today, even if it was technically among them as far as the source of their magic. Not rather small, not quadrupedal, not two-eyed, not furry nor feathered. It was a monstrous sort of thing, deliberately made to crush and overwhelm — of course it was interesting. One little bird saying that, no matter how genuinely, did not stir any deep seated inner turmoil.

It jarred itself loose with a shake of its head, only to find a creak in its back. A grunt, and it went side-long back onto six legs; then, it paced around the crystal again, rounding a neat two circles before parsing the next thing. I'm being asked what's wrong and what would help. The orthoclase took a half-step, then a longer one to compensate. A barely noticeable stutter in its motion. "I'll help myself and see it myself," it sneered.

Taking a sharp breath, glared up at the hybrid, willing her to go red. Monochrome remained, and it picked up the pace with a wretched sort of noise just short of a full-bodied roar. It was riled-up — absolutely rife with frustration — and yet refused to admit that it was anxiety about dragons and its apparent inability to use its magic, here.

In lieu of constructive words, it snapped, "this cave is WORTHLESS," Descending into a series of low growls and hoarse grunts, it away from the gemstone perch altogether and stalked towards the tunnel from whence they'd come.

@Damask

@Orthoclase-Alpha

for a moment, just a moment, it looked as if she might've gotten through to them: no growling, no bristling, no nails on the crystalline chalkboard. accipitrine eyes held onto alpha's, searching — for what, she wasn't sure. consideration, calculation, recalibration ... some turn of those gears that signified progress; and she could've sworn she saw all three. the part about them being interesting. that's what got 'em. they responded to that, same way they did about — their intelligence. honesty, not flattery, but they don't know what to do with it. they don't get a lot of compliments. the bulk of the colossus dropped stiffly to the floor, and she leaned in, despite herself. not so aggressive, but certainly not happy. catch that, the little stutter? trouble in paradise, if that's what you could call their head.

at last, an answer, and it was about as stubborn as she could've expected, except ... did they say see it themself? damask slowly drew herself upright, wings raised — not for takeoff, but for alpha's appraisal: go on ahead; look — running the numbers, rising to the challenge, coming alive.

oh, it makes so much sense. remember how easy they found you in the tunnel? the way they've been casting around ever since you got here, getting more and more riled up every time? they know the same exact spell, and it's not doing for them. okay, you're right, maybe this is kinda fun —

"this cave is WORTHLESS!"

... ah. game over. would you like to play again?

yes, i would.

"really?" she called, voice raised high — and for once, it actually carried, although the strain was painfully obvious. still not an inch of help from her stone, but — forget it, that's practically cheating at this point. hard mode. let's go, kid. now, for the kicker: "you can do better than that."

loaded silence, if only for a second, as she made sure she had their attention. then, damask continued, fighting and failing to maintain the volume; it dropped in short order, throat aching with effort. "the spell isn't failing because of the cave; it's failing because of you. brass-tacks facts, here — you're fed-up, strung-out, and you're masking it with anger. good in a fight, maybe, but it won't serve you here. the key to magic: concentration. you're too busy scanning an imaginary battlefield to look inward, where it counts. and now you want to give up, walk away? once again, you can do better — and here's your chance to prove it."

she sat back, tail swishing, unflappable as anything.

"focus, try again, and tell me: are you safe?"

gutsy.

The orthoclase regaled her with absolutely no response at first, not even a faltering half-step like before. In one ear and out the other; all conversational worth and its peculiar need to wait for an interaction to meet its end, had been lost. But, you can do better than that? Ground right to a halt — a rather smooth one, at that. Sweeping strides grew shorter, and it came to a standstill. Toxic-green eyes were just barely visible past the mane of quills, almost disguised as yet more poisonous-seeming points.

Her voice faltered, and rather than having it lose interest, Alpha turned slightly more. Twisting chin over pauldron, it stared intently. It's failing because of you. Teeth bared a bit. Brass-tacks facts, here — The nerve. ... it won't serve you here. The key to magic: concentration. You... ?! It spun and strafed slightly towards the avian, quills rattling in a hair-trigger response to being shot straight through the cognition. A crippling self-awareness dawned on it. Frightening.

In any other circumstance, it'd recognize the obvious bait and walk away; but this... this! — she was right.

It lifted its head with a disgruntled snort. Tossing it and rattling a few more times, it delivered one last burst of its vitriol. Anyone else would've simply sighed — but Alpha was just not your common Gembound. It packed its boiled-over facade away, stalked slightly into the open, and leveled a harsh glare at the Cave at large. Circulatory systems blurred into its senses as if clawing through the furious static in its headspace. Lessers dotted the vast majority of the landscape, intermixed with loping canines and fluttering birds elsewhere. No hulking figures occupying the air or beneath the ground.

No words came, but the subtle relaxing of quills and its posture spoke volumes.

@Damask

@Orthoclase-Alpha

damask had taken a risk — i know, i know ... but it was a calculated one. there had to be some combination of words that would get the colossus to budge. a chemical reaction. just the right catalyst; a careful ratio of swagger to logic; and to pull it all together, an explicit challenge they couldn't refuse. sure enough, they stopped in their tracks. spin, step, snarl, and they pointed like a gundog. their settling quills told her everything she needed to know.

she inclined her chin, brows raised, an inkling of a smirk tugging at her lip. see? it's "safe." no praise, no attaboy(?), no condescension of any kind; just one word of affirmation, spoken with soft finality. a long beat — you sure that's a smart thing to do? ... and the bird of prey swept from her perch. the arc of her wings carried her to another crystal, jutting from the same jagged cluster. lower, this one, almost at alpha's eye level — and well within their reach, given the time to twist and lunge. they wouldn't try, though, and even if they did, damask was fast enough to — no, no, gotta have a little faith, they won't. she found a grip and lowered herself, attentive all the while, watching them ...

until she tore away, drank in the view. polaris was different down here. bigger, closer, emptier. damask inhaled, felt the breath strike at her stone, started to reach — only to stop herself short. she didn't need to see what alpha saw. the picture sprang to mind all on its own: scarlet pinpricks of faraway mice; rats on the prowl, seeking another pulse to pursue; and maybe some fish, or a bird here and there, free to move through the world in ways the others couldn't. an entire city in living, breathing red.

"almost exquisite, isn't it?" spoken like a professor — matter-of-fact, but with the slightest hush of musing wonder. the silence was only a few moments cut. "hearts, veins, arteries; the articulation of muscle and bone. life at its most elemental. every individual has another signature, see? completely unique. blood will show you what nothing else can, if you know how to look."

she swiveled her head to face the colossus. every time i made a little headway, what was the same? i made them think. that's the trick, that's how it's done. but not too much about them, and less about me ... though they do deserve this. with total clarity, now: "my name is damask."

"Safe."

Maybe, but one little bird shouldn't be the judge of that. All she did was mirror its thoughts and promptly sweep it underneath the rug, but — quills prickled and its jaw slackened.

In some perverse, subconscious way, it knew its anger was righteous and spur-of-the-moment; it was a beast fingering the hair-trigger of a gun pointed directly at the accipter's rib, ten paces away. It was an easy way to unravel that sopping-wet thread in its stomach. Or, to press it against the walls and deal with later.

Alpha thought, for a wicked moment, about how easy it'd be to get rid of a witness. (It had every right to fear dragons.) A shot of electricity, the stench of ozone and charred skin in the air. A stray shard of glass, the sputter of blood — toxic eyes glared up as her wings spread, drawn by the movement. It'd be too easy to crush her. What were the real odds that she'd traipse around and name it a coward? It didn't know the thing, not of the stone, not of its harbored magic, not of her surroundings. Teeth snapped shut with a click.

Then, they rent the air again. The monochromatic form where its claws had gouged through crystal was getting too comfortable. It was not. The orthoclase adjusted to face Damask somewhat, but rather than keep hissing and spitting... it was dumbfounded. There was, of course, the limits on facial expression; but, silence and narrowed eyes say a lot. Staring out into the cave, dreamy-eyed and calling as if through a wistful reverie about — organs.

It swallowed, blinked (the spell'd worn off the moment it turned its sights on Damask again.) "It's alive or it's dead," Alpha grumbled, annotating with a verbal shrug. "Predator or prey." That was the immediate part of it, in any case. It had no sense for magic. No innate knowledge of what spell could be slung its direction. Physical prowess was identified at a glance.

Blazing eyes fixed again, more suddenly. Damask's offering fell flat, void of meaning at this point and not well-committed to memory. It merely grunted to acknowledge that, straightened, and prodded, "what magic do you carry?" The monstrous Gembound, hindered as it was in the face, looked expectant; and, expect a demonstration it did. Standing somewhat straighter, full attention on the bird. Shoulders hiked up slightly, a little guarded. The glint off its eyes shifting minutely.

@Damask

Pages: 1 2