ORIGIN - A Child! A Child Indeed!

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Their father, two others, and the monochrome avian they were staring up to. Avi noticed her sudden rigidity, the way she seemed to lock up at their touch, but was far too young and inexperienced to connect anything behind it. A pair of bio-luminescent ears flicked at Giggle's faraway words, but otherwise fixated back on Damask in front of her.

A soft rustle of wind blew their fur, bringing with it quiet, semi-understood words. Dad-- a nod to the same gryphon that held them. Giggle and Ashtoreth, the others in the back. Suddenly, they were picked up and a set down a little back by Dad. They grumbled a little, but repeated the words said: "...Daaadd" He, the winged leopard, was dad. "Daad!" And then another-- "Daaa-miskk." Now she knew two words! What an achievement!

There was one last one they caught, one both Dad and Daa-misk voiced. Family. The fledgeling opened their beak ready to try saying it, but gentle claws scooped her up and carried her away. They wiggled and squawked softly in defiance, tiny wings flapping rebelliously at the adjustment. They calmed a little when they remembered it was Eythan holding her, but still let out a disgruntled chirp. They didn't know what was happening, and didn't really like it much, either.

@Eythan @Giggle @Damask @Ashtoreth

It was something of an awkward mistake, though cute--Giggle laughed quietly, but dark eyes searched out Eythan. She hoped his feelings weren't hurt, but there was no saying, really.

His request to do the reading now surprised her; it felt like... an interruption. She'd somehow expected, oh, twenty minutes of family gathering around and gushing over the baby, and she didn't want to rush them all right off to the bone pit. But he'd picked the child up, and it was up to him; Giggle gave a dip of her head and a murmured, "All right. Just don't let the poor kid play in the mushrooms," with a smirk.

...But seriously, hallucinogenic spores weren't great for a newborn.

She turned, loping the not-too-far distance up to her bone pit, yawning on the way up. She glanced back a few times, going slow, not rushing the group--when they got there, they'd get there. It struck her that with all the new children, they were close enough to a kingdom, again. A large family, one that might actually be able to defend itself--rather than a few scattered, often-hibernating members.

She wondered what, if anything, Aure would forge from that.

Once she'd reached the bone pit she offered a quiet, "Make yourselves at home, just try not to touch the mushrooms," which was again more a warning for their own sakes; and then she stepped to the edge of the bone pit, searching out a suitable bone.

She looked back, seeking out the child with her eyes. She always threw the bones with one that resembled hte subject of the readings, but she didn't have much of an idea of this one--too young, too fresh. Perhaps a small, clean bone, then-... Something strange, something alien the way it was. And then another question occurred ot her: "...Do you think they know a name, yet?" Giggle asked quietly, thinking to herself.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Damask

Eythan blinked and smiled slightly at Ashtoreth's gentle refusal - to each their own. He was glad she was comfortable hanging back, and seemed to be having... a fairly nice time gesturing to Damask (or to just the aether, he wasn't sure.)

Contrary to his well-meaning intentions - doing the introductions for Damask, including her in the definition of family, encouraging the newborn to learn her name - the monochromatic raptor did... little. A strained murmuring to acknowledge and buttoning her proverbial jacket up to the neck was all she offered. Eythan offered a final apologetic look (brows furrowed and lifted at the same time, eyes dilated, a slight frown) before he chirped softly, "that's good, kiddo - y'got any other names?"

He turned them around with a paw, so the little one was looking at the old hyena, "how about Giggle?"

"Just don't let the poor kid play in the mushrooms" had him laughing around a somewhat spiny scruff, and then he purred gently to soothe the pure disgruntlement radiating from them. Wouldn't dream of it. It was bad enough when Giggle deliberately slung the spores from these at him. So, he assumed. There certainly weren't more than one species of mushroom that was dangerous, right?

... the Seer could teach the kid about what mushrooms to avoid.

Once he'd successfully heron-stepped over the bone pit's protective fringe, Eythan stooped and deposited the little one in as gentle of a heap as possible. His eyes didn't leave them, at the ready to keep them from ambling into the hallucinogenic nightmare not all that many feet away. Most excellent babyproofing around this pit. His ears pricked towards Giggle, at least, and he chirped quietly - urgently, "oh, shit."

Oh, SHIT. The gryphon's head whipped down to the kid, hoping they hadn't heard that and decided to make their third-ever word a bad one. A long beat passed. Warily, he looked back at the others, "I... didn't think of a name ahead of time." It seemed he'd been subconsciously hoping the stone would pop out with a name already.

@Damask

@Ashtoreth ! eythan censorship coordinated with navey
still not happy, heavy anxiety here; just ... assume damask's posts will continue to be unpleasant ;_;

with the hatchling withdrawn and their father taking over, the spotlight shifted back into place. the bird of prey dipped her head and retreated a little, leaving center stage to the leads. but then eythan had to just —

"that's damask — dam-isk. she's your family, too."

... he had to ruin it. the words hit home like an electric shock, a spike! dip! spike! in the violent line of damask's EKG. she's (read: you're) your (their) family. (family.) did he think she'd forgotten? that she hadn't omitted herself for a reason? "that's me," she confirmed. her voice was very small, very stiff. this was how it felt to be paralyzed. it hurt to even move her jaw. hey, look on the bright side, will you? they got the picture about their dad. "daaa-miskk." ... more like DAMN IT! their second word of all time, and it had to be her name? are you kidding me? she could've snarled, screamed, could've kicked something — damask, what is the matter with you? ... ah! nothing at all, of course. see? her uncle's concern was silent, but palpable, written all over him; she threw back a long, unblinking look, eyes brimming with all the emotion of the silvery metal whose color they carried.

in an instant, eythan had his kitten-chick by the scruff. they promptly metamorphosed into a squawking, struggling bundle of defiance. clearly an unwilling participant. damask swallowed and put her mind elsewhere. first reading, huh? wh — hold on, is that a thing? since when? did i have a — ? she would've remembered if she'd been there, but ... he and giggle were making it seem like a fully-fledged tradition? maybe? maybe? what would it have said? that she'd be a loser failure nervous wreck and a nobody? no, wait, don't tell me. she set her jaw, hung back, and hesitated, glancing back at ashtoreth. ash'd played it cool, laughed off the mixup. it should've helped; hadn't. the accipiter forced another smile and shook her head, lifting a claw to tap her left temple: it's all good. don't worry. left just ambiguous enough that she could've meant the kid, with the way ash was sidelining herself, but otherwise ... add liar to the list. she tossed her muzzle after the others — let's go, yeah? — and turned to follow, leaving plenty of space at her side for ashtoreth.

the pit was a familiar sight, but far from a friendly one. "make yourselves at home"? damask would do nothing of the kind. she stood well behind the wreath of mushrooms that encircled the hole, gaze averted from its contents — thinking faintly of aza'zel's bones, the visions that had ripped through her head in impressionist smears the day she was born. she'd never seen the seer work before, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. maybe she didn't need to be here anymore. or maybe you're a coward, and you want to run away. damask blinked, refocusing on her uncle as he parsed giggle's question. she knew that look, knew exactly what came after that "oh" — knew his voice well enough to counter it, if only for the hatchling's nascent vocabulary. with a quick flare of magic and a concurrent hiss under her breath, she canceled it out through opposite frequencies, rendered it silent on both of their tongues. why'd he sworn to begin with, though? ahh, here's why: "i ... didn't think of a name ahead of time."

he what? oh, the visceral swell of objection that invoked — all at once, the accipiter was at full attention, lips parted. before she could stop herself: "eythan." damask looked up through her brows at him, talons rap-rap-rapping into the rock. hey, what are you doing? he's the kid's — "let them choose. please." he's the kid's father! she cleared her throat, clamped her teeth shut. what right do you have to tell him what to do? and once again, why do you care?

because she hadn't just seen her grandfather's death that day; she'd seen her chrysalis before it was broken, budding roses, the point of a knife. this might take a while. as of yet, the child only had two words, and both were simple repetitions of what they'd been given. but damask's name had been the first thing out of her mouth. it had tasted something like a song, perfect, sincere. auré couldn't have given it to her, nor could anyone else — it was hers, and it had been an alignment. one of a few rare things of hers ... (how many others have there been?) ... that had felt exactly — (have there been any others?) right.

Ashtoreth shared a glance with Damask, one ear flicking up and the other pressing flat in the expression of a question, confusion squinting. She hadn't caught the comment until Damask stalled out. The hell's a first reading? But the raptor gestured reassurances, and nodded after the group.

She padded along at Damask's side, as natural as though they were siblings more than aunt and niece ('cause she was the cool aunt) with her tail sweeping up dust in her wake. The feathery mustelid had barely any experience with the bone readings, she certainly hadn't had a 'first reading'... The concept made her squint as she stepped around the mushrooms that laced the edges, nose crinkling.

Eythan sputtered that he didn't think of a name, with made the noodle roll her eyes. She hadn't been expecting Damask's sharp word over her ears, and her head jerked a bit too quick to catch the fierce intensity that bore down on her brother.

Let them choose? The bones? Or the kid? Her ears flicked forward and back, and she suddenly sneezed, drawing up a paw to fiercely brush at her snout. Ugh. Okay, but Aza'zel had named her-- Ashtoreth, his little star. It was one of the few things he had left for her. She was floored by Damask's pressuring, but it didn't feel like a conversation she really had a place in.

She had never really been a family-oriented gembound anyway... what did she know? Still, she raised a paw to wave to catch Damask's eye with a chit from the tip of her canines. She pulled up her wings in an inquisitive, lopsided twitch, Why?

@Avi

ooc: oh my god I am SO sorry for how late this is ;-; please forgive me

Anyways.... enjoy Avi!

The little hybrid continued squawking in Eythan's grasp. Four neon eyes pivoted onto Giggle as they were carried, watching the fungal hyena with vague curiosity. Brown and spotted, kind-eyed and soft-spoken-- they really liked this gembound! If only they weren't being toted around so they could go up and sniff them! They wiggled indignantly. But Dad was talking, asking about the word "giggle", and they soon quieted down again at the question. A Giggle? Was that the hyena? They tried it out on their tongue. "G... Giigg..." They were almost there, but their tongue got tied on that last syllable and they quickly went back to wiggling about. But it didn't matter too much, for they were now at the bone pit!

A bone pit! Well, to them, it was more of a funny hole filled with things to chew on. They squeaked a little as Eythan released them, wings flapping in celebration of being on land again. There were all sorts of funny-looking things around its rim, many of them tantalizing for a newborn, but (sadly enough) the adults were blocking their way. How disappointing. The spotted gemling simply resolved themselves to kneading the dirt with their elbows and chirping, oblivious to the strange tension in the air.

Ah, and some more words! Plus an odd pause of silence, but they didn't really notice the magical interfereing. They just liked it when the others spoke. They didn't catch most of it, save for the most basic words trickling into their mind, but this "name" sounded promising. What is a name, again? Was it like "Dad", or "Daaam-iiisk"? Well, in that case, she liked names! Those sounded exciting!

A ridged kitten tail swept across the pit's base as they padded around in a circle. What was a nice name? Frankly, the gryphon liked the word "dad" the most, but the big-fluffy-thing was already called dad. They wanted something special! Cool! Dad-like! A couple more childish squeaks, and then they opened their maw to speak once more. "A- Av- Av-... Aaaavii!" The word seemed to come out of nowhere-- and really, it did. Their beak just smashed together sounds like some kindergartener's art project. "Daaaaadd! Daaammisk! Giiig!"

And now they were back to just shouting names. Classic Avi.

@Ashtoreth @Eythan @Giggle @Damask here comes a baby

Eythan's discomfort had her flashing him a reassuring glance, her tone warm as she replied: "Ahh, they often pick their own." Damask's request--one of the few bits of words the hybrid had offered--struck her as strange, a little too demanding, and she glanced back with some puzzlement. It was brief, though; her attention was on the bones.

She carried hers up the ledge, half-missing any further conversation and barely catching the baby's gurgling. She couldn't comment on it, anyway, not with the pristine little bone clamped delicately in her jaws. Still, it sounded like 'Avi' was the child's name, at least for now; and Giggle took her place at the tip of the ledge and thought about this, with good humor.

The hyena set the bone down, and then looked to those below.

"We gather here for 'Avi's first reading! -Name tentative!" she crowed, as if to get their attention. It would seem very official, very ritualistic, if she weren't half-grinning warmly at them, if she hadn't winked one dark eye. They were all family, here. "Newest of the Bonebound. Tell us, bones; what does the future hold for this one?" Her attempt at the theatrical was a good one--practiced and measured, with just enough of the dramatic without being over the top.

Giggle then picked the bone back up in her teeth, and focused for a moment. Tell me, bones; and the thought was far more solemn, what does the future hold for this little one?

The hyena hoped that it would be good. She lobbed the little bone down; she watched how it fell, and landed.

The omens were... good. Fantastic, even, and it showed in the sudden relief of tension in the hyena's shoulders, in her blink, in the slight upturn of her black lips. "I see family!" she boomed, her voice as deep and loud as it could go; "I see relationships! Cooperation! Culture. They will be Bonebound, through and through." The second bounce of the bone--perhaps minor to some, but important, in Giggle's mind--had been harder to interpret. A long, deep bounce--and then a return back to where it had first landed, clustered among the rest. It wasn't bad, by any means, but it seemed to indicate a return of some kind, without a true departure. She hazarded half a guess, on this one. "They may travel, but there will always be a return. They may be involved in deep, enveloping stories throughout the caves, but the Bonebound will always be their home." The bone had wound up across all the others it had initially landed on--laced with them, in harmony, not damaging the rest, not sending any scattering. "I see friendship! Alliances! Bonds. This one is family, and will have many allies!" Giggle looked down, warmth in her eyes; her gaze sought out Eythan, and her slight nod was one of reassurance.

"These omens are good."

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

hey gamers, it hasn't been 2 months YET!

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

strong language

"That's me," Damask went, voice all tinny and rehearsed; all the nuance in it impossible to parse by Eythan. It was like that split-second shift in her expression when the little one repeated her name back, and that overlong gaze deep into his being. Vulnerable for just that moment. It made him think, aw, fuck. I've somehow thrown it, haven't I? When the group started moving on from the Oilstone chrysalis, the gryphon stared out the corner of one eye. A frown was hidden behind that wiggly bundle of joy in his beak—there she went, dancing on the fringes again.

He tried not to be too torn-up about it, but he honestly couldn't figure out what was wrong with making introductions. Sure, it hadn't been on her terms, but—they were family. It would've been inevitable, withering glances or not.

Shove those thoughts off for a second, though; the kid's already a handful. They were positively bouncing off the walls with thinly-veiled enthusiasm, even as they were squirming in his grasp. A squealed imitation of Giggle was made, and he couldn't stifle that gooey approval: "you've almost got it." That last syllable would come to them eventually, even if it was apparently not too important. They were preoccupied with staring into the bone pit the moment they were let back onto the ground.

Figuring someone would keep a close eye on them—don't worry, he's keeping them in his periphery—Eythan focused on the others again. His voice was strangled as he mouthed the word shit before, and he couldn't help but be grateful for whatever the fuck divine intervention that had been. Somehow, it didn't occur to him that it was the monochromatic ghost haunting them. Damask was the only one, bar Ashtoreth, in their midst that would hold such capacity. He knew that the mustelid would've let him say that word outright for a nice shit and giggle.

Giggle drew his attention back to names, and that strangely forceful and sudden speech from Damask. His ears pricked, spotted brows furrowing. Bright eyes somehow widened beneath those brows, looking the very picture of kinda taken aback. A name was too damn important for him to just come up with on the fly, even if anyone demanded that he slap one onto the baby. "We don' really need one for 'em right now, do we?"

Surely, kiddo would suffice until they came up with som—

"Aaaavii!"

Blink.

"Avi, huh?" Hot shit! Sounded like a name to him. "That's a good one," he chirped. Then, to make sure that... well, they were grasping all that, Eythan reached over to gently rap a knuckle against the baby's chest. "Avi?" Just really nail home that whole name thing. "Avi." He sounded way more sure on that one. There was an imploring quirk of his brow.

Meanwhile, off the Seer goes with her fortunes and spiritualism. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think it was a bit much. Even if Eythan thought there might be something to the permanency of death and bones, it seemed kind of silly to put on such a show. Maybe it made the bones work better. How was he to know? They were dead and he wasn't. Leave it to the universe to decide which was worse.

The omens were good still. Eythan let out a breath he'd apparently been holding, exhaling a sharp, "that's good—I mean, real good." That meant he hadn't fucked anything up between giving life and planting the rock and pacing all over the damn place. He hadn't been expecting death and destruction or anything similar, but he was a cynical bastard sometimes. Hard to break old habits. "Here's hoping they stay true, yeah?" Bright eyes flicked down to the kid waddling to and fro, kneading at the ground. Y' better, y'dry-asses, he thought warningly, or I'm breaking all of y'over m'damn knees.

How sweet.

Then, he thought aloud: "what now?" His head shifted to regard the others here. Avi was taken care of, for the most part; out of the shell with no injuries, introduced to everyone that was there (no matter what...) "Gotta feed 'em, right?" Eythan glanced back down. "Y'hungry, kiddo?"

... they'd eat meat, right? That beak looked pretty pointy.

@Damask @Ashtoreth

The funny "Giggle" kept on moving, clutching a shiny bone between her teeth. Avi decided that they liked bones. There were a lot of them around, and they looked tasty. But the hyena didn't eat hers, no, she simply sat it down and started talking. Talk full of words she didn't understand-- save for "Avi", of course, and "name". They felt inclined to waddle right over and do something more stimulating, like poking everyone, but held back. Eythan was in the way, anyways.

Then the little femur fell down, clacking on bone after bone down the strange pit. Avi peered over, cooing softly at the totem's descent. And then even more half-understandable words came, each filled with pride and happiness. They liked these happy words! Even that pristine little bone seemed happy among the bone-pile. Everything here was nice, they decided, still blissfully unaware of the awkward tension among the other members.

Then Dad spoke again, but this time they were more understandable concepts. Food! Hungry! They were a bit hungry, now that they thought about it-- the chrysalis didn't automatically supply them with a full stomach. The gemlet beeped a little "Eee!" before kneading around in another small circle... and faceplanting on the floor. And licking up a little pebble off the floor, cracking it between their jaws with a crunch. They didn't seem particularly fazed by this, however, and met their father's gaze innocently. "Humm...gry...Eat!" They babbled around their "meal", still soundly on the ground and chewing. This is what he meant, right?

@Damask @Ashtoreth

@Ashtoreth !
apologies for the delay and the length; only the dialogue forward is important to read

who does she think she is?, they're all asking in their heads. all those faces, taken aback; all those eyes, searing into her bones. who — does — she ... think she is? with effort, she weathered the heat and held her ground, unflinching with conviction. at a waving motion beside her, damask's eyes switched, then softened. ash. up went a pair of tawny, feathery wings: why? good question. she didn't choose hers, or did you forget? oh, how to articulate this ... with difficulty, of course. the accipiter took a step back and huffed out through her nose in a jagged sigh.

the answer was no. there hadn't been anything else that felt so right, so true as her own self-made summons on her tongue, the one piece of her that felt like it fit, except maybe for — the one that turned out to be a reach, a delusion, just a big lie you were stupid enough to believe, as if someone like you could ever be a ████? right. yeah. except for that.

her claws trembled as they rose to her chest, both sets, pinions crisscrossed underneath. this meant belonging. all six points pressed with emphasis into her feathers, her skin — any harder and they would've drawn blood. she twisted her muzzle to point at the child, looking ashtoreth dead in the eye. it's theirs. one wing fell away and folded back into place. with the foremost claw of the other, she drew a circle slightly left of her sternum and tapped a dot into the middle. this wasn't a sign they'd established, nor was it a complete sentence at all — just a standalone word she couldn't've brought herself to speak out loud. ash, though, maybe ash would get it, still. understood or otherwise: it should come from their heart.

there it is.

and as if on cue: "a — av — av — ... aaaavii!"

measure by measure, her shoulders ... relaxed. she glanced at eythan. a soft smile touched her lips at the corners, eyelids down to half-mast. this endangered specimen wasn't so much tight as it was heavy. a cry from above, and it was extinct. "tell us, bones; what does the future hold for this one?" family! friendship! adventure awaits! she peeked at the small, alien bone that was avi, resting in harmony atop its compatriots. giggle's theatrics, all this pomp and circumstance ... it was almost cheap, more a performance than the ritual she'd envisioned, but oh, come on. always the skeptic. you know better on this. firsthand experience. all of a sudden, she was feeling sort of sick again. and, hm, do you think your reading would've been that nice? sicker, and eythan was all hope and relief, toasting his newly-named hatchling's bright and shiny future. they're gonna be a star, they're gonna live the dream! isn't that just swell? the words feed and hungry weren't helping. look, you may have been wanting to since before you showed up, but no, damask, you are not allowed to leave yet.

meanwhile, the superstar themself? they were facedown, licking the floor.

a round of applause for avi vita, everybody! so damask, were you just the most precocious newborn of all time, or what? is that when you peaked? it's been just about all downhill from there, right?

and yet, a crease developed between her brows. damask inched closer, leaning down, head cocked a full forty-five degrees at the child's level as they chewed. they were crunching up the pebble like it was nothing. clearly they'd gathered some understanding of what eythan was talking about. the stone he'd given life to ... maybe? maybe? well, sure, it'd be pretty wild, but it's not impossible. she opened her mouth, closed it, thought better of it, and, instead — concentrated: a strike at her stone again, one more time, and it gave her a spark. a pulsing thrum of feeling flowed into her, elementally innocent in its bliss and curiosity. somehow, it made her, the rest of her, the part it didn't touch — it made her hurt. made her want to cling to it. still, she sifted away the emotion, favored the sensation instead. sure enough, she found hunger, as they'd expressed and as she'd expected, but also a subtle satisfaction at the taste; no discomfort, no disgust. she promptly withdrew, both mentally and physically. thrown into sharp relief, the nausea returned in force. remember the rules. don't flinch, don't grimace.

"just checked," damask said evenly. by way of explanation: "synchronization spell." she gestured towards avi, still munching away. "that isn't random. they feed on rocks — they're meant to. they may or may not have inherited a taste for meat, in addition; i can't be sure." whoa, whoa, wait. is that an opening? ooh, yes, it is! an intake of breath. run, coward, run! "if you'll all excuse me, i can go and catch something for them. i'd like to help see how they feel afterward, in case of an adverse reaction." she hesitated for a second. "they're thirsty, too. you should get them to water, cleanest in the area — it's that way. i'll know how to find you again."

and she was already backing out, sails unfurling, tail sweeping along the stone underfoot as she turned. hasty much? the accipiter glanced over her shoulder, eyes flicking in turn from avi to giggle, ashtoreth, and at last — "eythan?" one look at him, and now you really want to go somewhere safe (hah, as if anywhere is) and throw up your bleeding heart. it didn't show. nothing did. "hey. congratulations, once again." she twisted away. with a beat of her wings, a spring in her legs, and an invisible, yet irrepressible shudder ...

(so you've got a little pseudo-sibling, kid, and they're gonna be a star! aren't you proud? aren't you happy for them and for him? aren't you so much less than enough?)

... damask was gone.

exit

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