ORIGIN

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Puck was curled into a ball, but even still they could feel the dark reaching for them. The cold tendrils, sweeping over Puck, each one threatening to still the small monkey's breath. Each one making it harder and harder to breath. Fear swirled in their stomach, a thing that expanded outwards until their shoulders heaved and they trembled. It was Puck's turn. He waited for the pain, the icy talons. And then...nothing. The cold pulled away from Puck, but they still shivered. It was just them.

Just Puck by himself. He stayed in that ball, even as he felt the dark retreat. The sky turn to the safe tan of Hydra. The heat on his back. Shaking hands pulled themselves from Puck's eyes. The dark was gone. But there were still the bodies. Or what was left of them. Oil, draining into the sand below. Puck heaved heavy breaths, eyes whipping around. They could barely hear those around them. Puck bolted for the entrance.

The fastest he'd ever run in his life. He stayed there. He was silent as the others arrived. Tired eyes with heavy bags. Puck wanted to close his eyes, but there was darkness there, and a paranoid part of him told him that the creature could get them even there. So he waited. No words for the creatures coming in, looking for loved ones. Blank stares were all they would receive from him. Jumpy when addressed.

content warning for suicide mention/ideation(?)

The light came back, and it was so bright. Blinding, even. The immortal heat of Hydra sank back in like a haze over the hybrid's already-addled mind. They flitted somewhere between awareness and the embrace of being in the backseat, blind to all input but their own stream of consciousness. Howl was practically anywhere but here.

This little suicide attempt had failed, and they were suffering for it. The host dragged them to this, and they suffered for it. Couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see - it was the same damn situation as when they were sequestered to the headspace and left to rot while the host continued to wreck himself and the body his facets occupied. They bore witness to it all and they couldn't hide like he could. Couldn't hide from the sludge and biomass lying around the place, the various bones and halberds sunk halfway into the swamp. Couldn't hide from the death.

It took everything left in the primate's body to even make it halfway towards the entrance - much less actually get there. Their limbs were shaky, a perpetual sour taste and smell clinging to them. Much like Puck, they were hollow-eyed and ragged. A thick coating of muck clung to their undersides (and wasn't that! familiar!) and they wanted nothing more than to groom and groom and groom this isn't what they're meant to look like.

How familiar... this... emptiness was.

Howl just about collapsed at the threshold, when they got there.

The dark closed in, the feeble wisp's light finally giving out. Gembound scattered for the torch as Ru dropped it. Their stomach fell as they watched the scramble. The little monkey was right. It was too late. But then, the boar reignited the torch. The beacon of flame. If the trial had felt unreal, the fact it was over was even more jarring. Like a cyclical nightmare, they almost expected the calm, the warmth, to be quickly swept away. For that indomitable, savage beast to return. But it didn't. A plume of dust swept in the distance, and they watched it go. Ru's forelegs buckled first, and then the back. They fell on their side, into the sand. But Ru was just relieved to feel that the grains had that gritty texture. That this was all real. They let out a breathy sigh.

"I lived." That was all that mattered. Don't think about the fallen. The patches of black ichor, fading into the sand. They were dead anyways. There was no saving them. The darkness would have always claimed some of them.The twitters of the small bird, Charles,' were like nails. Driving themselves into Ru's psyche with each addition.

"This was a once in a century occurrence." Ru said. Sand got on their tongue as they spoke. A realization hit them. What that bird said. The bird, Charles, and his ilk. They were raised as test subjects by the merchant. But for what? To test the current generation? Punish them for their weakness? An example, or simply food? Ru sat up, shaking the sand from their flank. They would keep this to themselves.

"We were all just unlucky enough, foolish enough to be the ones picked." They laughed. Hollow. Silent, the small creature trotted to the entrance.

So many had come to the entrance. The creature with acid green eyes was here, but Ru had no idea what they were looking for. Doing reconnaissance for the Merchant and Vargas? They frowned at Oliver. Asking after their father. So many with connections to each other. Was this how the gembound now functioned? So attached to one another. How could they account for deaths, so flagrant and open? It was mind-boggling. But someone had to answer Oliver, appease them after the damage Hera had done. They thought carefully. Now was not the time to make enemies.

"Your...father," Ru began. It felt strange to call them that. Ru had not referred to their parents as such. Did not know them long enough. "They were a warrior. No matter what happened in the end. They returned to ichor as a defender. In honor." Ru said. They settled by the entrance afterwards. Though it was more of a collapse. Their body felt heavy.

A soft grimace crossed his face as he watched those returning.

It was not a trial, it never was, this feeding; it was the acknowledgement that one of their weapons was so powerful that many others could be sacrificed to sustain it. To contain it. But he would have preferred that some of the old Champions--and some of the old designs--not gone in.

The Orthoclase was among them; her design, semi-random as it was, had been good. A good stone; good results from it, too. The oil-rock, too, but-...

Vargas' attention swung to Orthoclase-Alpha. It was sitting rigid, staring out, and he leaned down slightly, speaking in a voice quiet enough for only it to hear."The lack of your stone-bearer's return is-... regrettable. But it did not reflect on her quality; and it will not reflect on you."

It was an assurance made without emotion, but it was probably the closest thing Orthoclase-Alpha would get to "hey, I'm sorry your mother just died."

For a moment, he looked over those returning, taking mental inventory. Nodded to the Quartz--he was always surprised to see that one's survival, but it was good at moving fast and keeping its head down. The horse-... was that the same damn horse? The fossa was gone; that was a shame. It had survived once before, the thin dog, too.

Have you seen my Dad?

Vargas pushed up, his attention drawn by Oliver, by Crown; yes, he could see the onyx on the one, after looking... a small dot, little more. And the other--the sheep-beast; no, that was... obsidian? Light, then, he supposed. Massive arms reached out, hands moving to lightly clasp their jaws, if allowed, to tilt their heads up this way and that so that he could inspect them, for a moment.

The one reminded him strongly of someone... Could it be related, somehow? The other, well. Oliver simply looked weak, almost malformed, and Vargas wasn't certain what to make of him. He grunted and stepped back, releasing both. "That one's stone will be retrieved for use, if it is available; do not worry. Orthoclase's, as well," he added, with another glance back to Alpha.

And then, to Hag'rteho: "Both of those, and the weapon, the one that was Touched."

At least it hadn't escaped; by the oppressive sense of shadow still trickling away, it had been a very close thing.

It felt like his mind was swimming; as the torch lit, and the monkey cried, and the others' sounds bubbled in and out of his ears, all he could do was mindlessly follow the group. Battered, bloodied, bruised—they all had seen better days, surely. But his mind tugged back into the sand, back into the danger, and his head turned to view the piles of oil and bone crumpled in the sand. He wanted to go, to search, as light rose in Hydra once more, but he knew he couldn't. If anything, his priority now was getting Charles and Hera back to the entrance.

Still, he let one sweeping glance wash over the remains. Were they out there? Orenstein, Simon, Owlface, Kini...? The other creatures that had been consumed, like the large snake? The weird cloaked dog? The others...? Were they all truly gone?

Fireheart, too? His flaming memory hovered in Ifrit's mind like a comet cutting the horizon. After he dropped off Charles and Hera, he wanted o rest, just a little bit, and then he'd come search the sands. If not for his family, then for Fireheart. And what was he hoping to find, then? He had no idea, but he wanted to look anyway. The wolf saved his life, fought back against the shadows that threatened him. Now he was gone.

Charles began on a large rant, and Ifrit only half listened. There were others at the entrance, waiting, and asking of others that had not returned. His attention lingered on the winged dog as Hera began to laugh and answer, and when Ifrit turned to tell her to knock it off, a gust of wind came and did it for him. She fell softly into the sand, but his eyes moved back up to the winged dog as the other creature began to speak.

Ifrit nodded as Ru spoke. Yes. Honorable defenders...

"I'm sorry," Ifrit offered to Oliver when Ru had finished speaking. But his vision was fading now, his body nearly collapsing suddenly when another gust of wind touched him. The light above him was warm and bright. Several weary steps carried him closer to his other family before his knees buckled, body lowering as his legs folded beside him, and he sighed. He was so tired. He needed to rest...

TRIAL OF HYDRA - DARKNESS

ROUND 10 - REST AT LAST

It was over.

At least, the trial was over. The feeding. The horror would linger, of course... the nightmares and the flashbacks, the memories of screaming and whispers in the dark, for those troubled by such things.

The Masked Merchant watched as the black stone in his hands reformed, wisps like dark smoke pouring back into it and vanishing; a small, glass dome was placed over it, quickly frosting over. He tucked this away into his cloak, and without speaking, he turned toward the survivors. He came to them one by one; his touch offered a sharp, explosive pain and then blessed unawareness, as they dropped into their chrysalises, and away. They would awaken in good time, to leave or to wander back into Hydra--it mattered little--but the darkness, at least, would be little more than memories.

Haunting memories, perhaps... but memories just the same.

All else aside, these were the survivors: these had lived, and though the living might prove hard, there was no taking that away.

________________

Gembound may now exit this thread. Anemoi must post for both this round and last round to claim rewards, in two separate posts. Please post in Update Me with the following form, for each character entered:

Code:

<b>Trial of Hydra Claim</b>

<b>Total number of characters:</b> (claim: 300 magicka per char)

<b>Characters to mark Deceased?</b> (only do this if you are done with all their threads)

For each survivor, post the following form:

<b>Survivor Name:</b> Name here!

<b>Spell/Ability Choice:</b> choose any Light element spell, OR Reflect, OR Night Vision, OR any of the three Wisp spells, or Assassin's Guise (tactic)

<b>Mutation Choice:</b> choice of one or multiple: Hyper-reflective eyes with strong night vision; phosphorescent, wisp-like glowing eyes; black, white or grey (solid color)-shade body; bat-like ears of any bat-realistic length and shape, with or without echolocation ability; long, sensitive whiskers; long, wicked black claws (feet can slightly mutate to accomodate the claws). Reflective & glowing eyes cannot be taken together.

<b>+ Time of Darkness.</b>

Kept baubled items will be beside the chrysalises when the characters awaken; stealing is discouraged.

In-character, the characters will have woken up approximately last week. Lingering in Tunnel P would be discouraged, as the events of this thread would be in full swing, and the newly-awakened characters would be escorted out in their choice of direction.

Attempts to retrieve the stones of the fallen may be made, though recoveries and revivals should be done with the deceased character's player's permission. The stone of Black is no longer recoverable, nor is his halberd; the stones of Orenstein, Simon, Styx, Nassir and Fireheart along with Elyon's weapon can be recovered.

@Pumpkin @Rainstorm @Howl @Puck (Ru) @Morganite @Sora @Hera @Charles @Anemoi @Ifrit @Warrior
@Owlface @Orenstein @Kini-yolotl @Simon

He would have been confused, if he had the time. He would have been upset.

But an overwhelming weariness was dragging him down so that he, like Ifrit, sagged slowly to his knees in the rapidly-warming sand. White coat marred by blood, by mud, he rolled slowly over onto his side; he had little time to take note of Oliver, of Crown, crying and asking for their father. What little he heard wrenched at his heart nonetheless. And he held no energy to take any real note of the monster Vargas, of the other monster Orthoclase-Alpha.

No; he was alive, and if they wanted to kill him, he had little left in him to allow him to resist.

Liquid brown eyes slipped shut. There was a light brush of icy touch across his forehead, just beneath his gemstone: and then a burst of pain throughout his skull, and then-...

Nothing; blessed nothing.

horse stock: colourize-stock.deviantart.com

exit Warrior

When they got to the end of the place - back to where they came. The Exit. Their vision was gone - it had been blurring, blurring, and blurring some more. Until they could no longer see. It was only by the steps of the other gembound that the bird was able to locate where to go. And even that was a long shot - as birds used vision for most of their sense. It would surely heal later, right? (It wouldn't.)

When they, and the group, got back to the start, their head bloomed with a pain they didn't understand. Their chrysalis forming around their body - ready to heal the wound on their wing and offer any changes necessary to keep their body going.

Exit via Crystallization

Sora's eyes were as cold as the darkness as the Masked Merchant came back into view, along with Vargas and his Overseer. Her family had been sheared almost in half, and every creature who had sat at the Merchant's side had the Oil of her siblings on their hands (or feet, in the littler one's case). She laughed bitterly at Ru. "You were unlucky? Bullshit. You chose this. That-- that bastard," she snarled, gesturing to the Merchant with her snout, "created my siblings and I. He raised us without warmth, but we had each other. He raised us and let us care about each other. Then he gave us no choice about coming here -- he murdered our sister who tried to escape, and didn't even leave her stone behind -- and now what? Now Kini-yolotl, Simon, Owlface, and Orenstein are dead. Epiodite. Smokey Quartz. Papagoite. Chrysocolla. And not only that, the monster had the audacity to puppet their bodies to lure us into the shadows. Every single one of them died because of their own empathy. Because they wanted to save someone who'd been lost." She looked at Vargas now, her chrysoberyl catching the light fiercely.

"My brothers -- and Kini -- are dead." Back to the Masked Merchant as he approached her. "I hope everyone with a hand in this trial remembers that when they try to go to sleep. If you're even alive enough to get there." Pain ricocheted through her whole body, and then her baubled earring was clattering to the ground as a chrysoberyl chrysalis rapidly formed around her. Silence, at least for now.

But when she woke up, there wouldn't be an Orenstein to put it back in its place.

> exit sora

They may have been dead-exhausted, but the second they saw the Merchant reach out for one of her breathren, they saw red. They lunged without a second thought, their blunt claws extended, their teeth bared, and their horns down, ready to gore and rip and tear.

"YOU KILLED THEM! MY SIBLINGS!" she wailed, tears welling up out of sheer rage and dispair, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL-"

A cold touch spread across their forehead and they fell before they could get any closer, pitching to the ground in a heap. Morgan tried desperately to resist their gem, to stop it from happening, but it was all they could do to stay above it as it formed anyway.

"You'll regret every creating me," they said, so furious that her words were like whips, snapping in the air before they disappeared into their chrysalis.

One last keen was heard before their gem turned opaque, and then it was silent.

Exit Morganite.

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Puck

Howl

Quartz Five-Two-Four

Vargas

Ifrit

Game Master Dark

Warrior

Rainstorm

Sora

Morganite