ORIGIN

Full Version: [RAID] [Winter in Polaris] FROM YOUR COLD GRASP
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Bone let out a roar, twisting up higher in the air. The tunnel mouth was narrow and she whirled to avoid it--well, too narrow for dragon wings, in any case; the spores now rising were unknown to her. But Azigh was roaring for them to avoid it, and a glance to her father showed Dread beating... something away with his wings. In the air, then-? Something in the air?

Bone glanced back, and swept up, trying to clear away from whatever it might be. Her magicka reached out, grasping for the flames that still licked here and there, struggling to pull some up around her like a shroud to cover her retreat from whatever it was that they were fleeing.

It was too late: she had inhaled the spores, and an instant later control over her magicka was lost. The flames she'd caught coursed across her body: searing, burning, boiling--and with an agonized roar the white dragon plummeted.

She crashed in the snow, aflame and confused, bone-pale body sliding wings-spread into the ground, tumbling and skidding until it landed completely: and there she lay, dazed, burned, wounded, cold... and with someone else's whispers twisting up through her mind.




He had not hit the creature below.

He had hit himself.

There was no time for realization. Only an instant of flashing fire, of white-hot heat, so swift that he barely had time to feel the agony--and then he was gone, his body vaporizing. The specularite at his chest swelled and spread, swift enough to prevent total dissolution--the disaster that was his attack leaving nothing but his gemstone curling around him, dropping, swept to one side by the magic wind that lifted it.

His chrysalis was left helpless and unaware, victim to no one but himself.



stars: ESO/UltraVISTA team. Acknowledgement: TERAPIX/CNRS/INSU/CASU; Mike's Birds on Flickr credit for part of "Black and white hawk eagle"


whoops exit Blitz...

if anyone moves his chrysalis before it fuses let me know!!
Tahi reacted instantly, jerking violently back from the spores at the arm-beast's insistence. Whatever they were, they were fungal magic, and he did not want it cast on him. "IF THEY TOUCH YOU, I CAN REMOVE IT!" he shouted, dancing back like a ballerina on his unusually spindly legs. Predictably though, he inhaled a massive mouthful right after, and began to hack and cough violently. They lodged into his airways, already beginning to take hold and--

He felt... resistance, and his eyes swung towards the Leviathan. (What was big enough to break Alpha's armor?) Shameful, he thought, his inner monologue not quite his own voice. Something less him and more the fungus roiled with displeasure, with disgust -- who would dare shirk Her gifts, who would-- hurt my friend, my FRIEND--



F̶̙͂̓̓͌̍͐̒̒͛̿̓̃̀̈́̓̑̓Ŕ̸̮̤͈̞͋̄̈̓̕͜͠I̶̢̢͇̣̠̦̋̏͂͗̄̐͆̓Ȩ̴̥̺̘̱́̌̓̌͗̇̓̇̔̾̎̏͜͝Ñ̷̛̪̃̅̊̆̑̿͊̈́͆̾̅͠Ḏ̵̡̭̞̮̪̹̼̝̖͙͇̝̫͒̀́͋F̶̧̩̹̤̤̅͊̄̀̌͋̑͝Ŗ̴̡̡̡̳̪͔͈̜̩̰̫̼͇͉̆͐͌͒̒͜ͅĮ̵͖͇̬̭͍̻̹̮̙̱̮͎̀̊̋̕͠ͅḚ̶̞̘̪̆̊̓̐̉̎͜N̸̡̛̗͙̬̩̯̟͙̼̔̅̐̋̈̂̔̍̾̃̽͊̓D̷̨̗̤̺͚̥̳͎͍̩̅̉̊͒̈́̀̇͜ͅͅͅͅF̶̧͚͙̼̙̙̼͖̪̻̯̺̥͇͇͖̰̋̾̈́͌̄R̴̻̖̻͔̼͍̥̩͘I̷̧̩̬̙̥̝̺̘̩͉͙̓͌̏͆̏̈́́̓͘͝ͅͅE̵̡̡̬̳͔̖̗͓͓̙͖̖̾̓̓̽̓͑̓͗̃̚̕͝͝N̷̢̗̹̜̗͇̪̙̰̉͜D̴͕̞̩͇̤̮͙͖̠̤̟̝̍͌


"Siblings."


Tahi-shei's eyes glazed over, and then he violently snapped back to reality -- sort of. "Madhukar!" he called, his voice wary but tinged with excitement as he scanned for her. "Madhukar! Were are you? C'mere!"



@madhukar specifically


Finally, finally, London bridge came falling down.

Many more disasters were to ensue.

The titan they'd all been fighting alongside screamed something about--oH SHOOT WHAT THE HECK WAS COMIN' OUT OF THE ROCK PILE--? 'DON'T BREATHE IT IN!' Don't have to tell her twice--!

Madhukar held what breath she had left and scampered away! She just barely made it out of the cloud before having to let the breath go; okay Madhukar, in and out. IN and ou--

'Madhukar! Madhukar! Where are you? C'mere!'

Her siren's call. She stumbled further from the stuff in the air and then swiveled around. Shouted. "TAHI! TAHI I CAN'T--!" Can't see is what she can't do! Can't look back, can't go back-- where was that ridiculous deer, shoot, SHOOT, SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN HER EYES OFF HIM--

Pillar of salt. Pillar of salt. Will you turn to a pillar of salt?

"'M OUT!!! 'M SAFE!!!"

Not yet. First, a game. Ma-a-arco...

Think "Speak"
disaster struck right after Wyvern did. The flurry of attacks was apparently enough to clear out the monster, but then it was crumbling and white dust filled the air and the creature demanded she not breathe it in? Yeah, no, she had no interest in doing so anyway. Wyvern beat her wings violently. The force of her wingbeats and the strength behind them was enough to keep the spores firmly away from her, and firmly out of her poor feathers, as she took the air. Wyvern's eyes were drawn to the deer who'd just screamed out -- was he coughing?

That didn't bode well. Perhaps he himself had been attacked--? No, wait. She had more important things to worry about. Namely, where was Carja? "COUNT OFF!" she demanded. She wanted to hear from every family member who was down here -- especially Carja and her half-siblings.


@monoceros in general
Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:
self harm

Azrael was a little surprised by the amount of gembounds that had come to fight, but he wasn't complaining - it was exhilarating, exciting, and the roar of battle, of spells cast here and there of large creatures throwing themselves at the beast of stone had Azrael's blood pumping hot and heavy in his veins. His expression twisted into a dark smile as blows fell like rain on the golem.

The collapse of the creature had Azrael giving off a, perhaps premature, roar of victory. He at first mistook the spores for dust clouds when, all of a sudden, the one that had summoned them here warned them - don't breathe it in! And Azrael's mind jumped immediately to another time, when the same cry had echoed across a battlefield, in a much darker, murkier place. Chaos and the roar of battle in his ears, but instead of gembound against golem, it was gembound against gembound, magic against infection...

Eyes widened with shock when he realized what it was. A cloud, not of dust but of spores. White spores, the smell of familiar rot entering his senses and sending him over the edge of rage. "NO!" he roared, taking in a deep breath, preparing himself to blast every bit of Mother away, to burn all the spores before they reached him again and took away the sweet taste of freedom he had cherished so much for so many cycles...

But he had overestimated how much time he had before the spores reached him and, on his inhale, a number of them went right down his throat. Suddenly, he was blinking, magic slowly fading back down, rage and anger simmered carefully to a manageable level as that feeling returned. She was within him once again and it was like she'd never left. She was too far to hear the whispers in his ears, but the swell of warmth and family was overwhelming - Azrael wanted to submit, oh he wanted to give himself over again because it was so much easier, so much simpler, when he was in her hold. All he had to do was give in, find her again, and it would be like nothing had changed.

...But things had changed. It wasn't just him anymore. No, it was him and Forgraves and Banshy now. He had them to look after and protect and, in the case of Banshy, raise to be strong and independent. If he went with Mother then he wouldn't be able to see them again. His life with them would be gone, forgotten, in favor of service to Her.

Or, came her his thoughts, unbidden, They can always join you. They can come with and be part of the family too. And then the memories of the other day came crashing back. Of the flashbacks, so vivid and painful in his mind, of his talk with Forgraves, the fox's warmth against his leg as he spoke of Mother and his anger, and that fear he'd felt when he'd seen the hallucination of Forgraves dripping with Mother's fungus, just another one of her soldiers and not the wonderful, intelligent young man he'd grown up to be. All kindness, all softness lost to her cruel order.

And then he was fighting back with all of his strength, pushing back against the lull of her safety and love, roaring with rage as his body shook violently, clawing at his face and body, as if he were trying to rip his skin free to expel her with nothing but his claws, blood beginning to run down the wounds he opened on his skin. "GET OUT," he screeched. He could feel shame and disappointment so thick and brutal in his chest that he wanted to be sick. "GET HER OUT OF ME!!" His voice was rising almost to desperation, all pride and disappearing in one moment.

He wasn't going back he wasn't going back HE WASN'T GOING BACK

Sora rammed into the hard stone and, predictably, wrenched her shoulder. Not that she cared. A flurry of other hits struck true, and then-- and then it was exploding into white spores, and she was way too close to not get a snout full of them. Sora gasped, wheezing around the cloud, desperate for air rather than whatever this was. She coughed violently, instinct seizing her.

And then-- calm.

Sora went still, looking around at the chaos blankly. Why was she so scared? Her Mother would protect her. Sora straightened her posture, scowling at Vargas. Masters were always trouble -- he was Resisting? whycanihearthem She shrugged her shoulders, swallowed hard. She really needed a drink of water, didn't she? Something to... to clean herself in, to whatsgoingonnostopstopstop finally sort out this mess of her pelt (and now that she was thinking about it, she really needed to straighten up those rocks back home!). Sora was... confused. Why was everyone stopitstopitstopit trying to stop? Wasn't it such a gift to be part of a family again? morganhelpmehelpmehelpmesissyimscaredineedhelppleaseimsorry

I need to share this with the rest of them, something thought, not quite her own stopstopstopstop and Sora knew how to deal with a voice like that, but... but the other one, it was quiet now. She smiled, distantly. Mother thought she was pretty. Mother could make her useful. Sora had a family now, a better family, one that wouldn't change or leave her or-- "MORGAN!" she howled, finally. Shame and guilt and badbadbadstopit worthless meaningless LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER screamed through her mind but she was desperate and screaming, desperately, for someone to protect her. "MAKE-- IT-- STOP!!!"
FLAMES COULD NOT HURT YOU.

IF THE SKY SHATTERED AND RUBBLE SMOTHERED THE WISP OF YOUR SOUL, IT STILL COULD NOT HURT YOU.

NOT AS MUCH As this will.

Something in the air, then something in his her its lungs. From there to its head, from there to its...

no.

ALMOST. Khavur could feel those roots, feel those shivers. It was jittery, it was new. One of the rare times it could feel on its own, no magic required. Rare... precious.

Khavur was NOT a poor beast. NOT a poor animal, not a bashed fiend. Not abused, not spiteful of the root of its creation. CONFUSED, yes, but to hate it... to hate what it was made for... how could it?

One head snorted, the other grunted, the mental effort was strenuous. 'you will NOT invade.' Whatever it was. It wasn't fit to teach the beast; it attempted to misguide, to FOOL Khavur into giving up the ONE thing it was sure of. 'i serve Lord Dhracia and Master Vargas.' Master Vargas... big purple friend... where...?

"Master Vargas?" The Reaver called out. Its heads swirled; 360 degrees of looking out. "Orthoclase-Alpha?" All it felt was heat. Pain was foreign. Pain was dangerously minimal for the blows it had just sustained. Pain was irrelevant to getting its group back together.

"SENTINELS?"

The call was hurting-- burning just to make...

It closed its eyes for a second, expecting the golem to come crashing down on top of it, to feel pain blossom across its skin as heavy stone barreled down, but there was a strange sound and suddenly the air was full of dust and...and....

Something else?

Beta blinked its eyes open, confused, as the blaze of the battle simmered down around it, as if something soft had pressed down over its ears. It wasn't thinking about the fighting anymore - no, that wasn't important, not anymore at least. Because now...now there was the strangest feeling of oneness beating through its body like a drum. Not the kind of oneness it felt among the kin of Vargas, no, something stronger and more rigid. But it found itself...enjoying the sensation. Leaning into it...

It could feel Vargas's mind. What? How was it doing that? It wasn't connected to Vargas by anything, was it? It...It wasn't....how could it feel him? But more importantly, why did he sound like he was in pain? Vargas was never in pain - he was always strong and stable, a pillar of strength and victory. He did not doubt or make mistakes and he did not feel this sort of mental anguish.

It was that that helped Beta stay focused on itself. It helped it realize that this wasn't normal. It took a gasping breath and scrambled back, shaking its head and trying to clear those alien thoughts from its head, but it was gripping tighter, displeased with its resistance. It didn't have to do much - just let go. Relax, like it always wanted to relax. It would never have to work again...

No! No, that wasn't right! It wanted to relax, sure, it wanted to have an easy life, but they'd chosen already! They'd chosen to follow Master Vargas, to fight for him, to work for only him because there was no point in fighting back! No point in resisting the chaos that it had seen with its own two eyes. It had seen Lord Dhracia rip that creature apart. It had seen Mary, moments from hatching, turn all the lights off and right back on again. It knew what this was - the order that resisted His chaos, their enemy within the depths of the caves.

Beta's lip pulled back and it struggled against her control, despite the amount of guilt pooling in its stomach for making her disappointed. "Master Vargas," it cried. "Don't listen to it! Keep fighting! I won't...I won't fall to it!" It gripped the rock beneath its feet, focusing on keeping its head. It wasn't going to fail Master Vargas now!

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:
gore
self harm
Pain Ideation

Esther crashed into the large bear-golem, body cracking off some of that rock holding it together. A distinct cry of victory somewhere the maned wolf could not see. Instead, dark, oily eyes were far focused on the strange rock form collapsing, and their own claws sticking in the snow as they were shot backwards in the force of their own colliding. Claws scraped against whatever was there, and Esther wondered why so many were yelling - it burned their ears and they didn't like it.


Y̵̙̲͖͑̾̿́̓͝ö̴̼̩̬̹̝̳́̂̅͛̽̇̈́̑͆͗̓͗̒ư̶͓̈́̾̑͝ ̷̧̡̭̱͎̭̪̣̱͑̚̚c̵̢̛̬͔̣̦̱͈̠̅̑͛̈͊̍̂̍́ͅỏ̷̠̖̲̱̪̰̪͓̬̜̑͜ủ̸͍͙̮̬͇̫̻͍͇̤̈́͗̈̂͝l̴̼͕̗̓͗̆̋̄͒́̓d̶̢͎̺͇̠̃͗̉̉̓̇̕͠͝͝ ̴͎͔̲͚͕͆̓̂̓̆͗͒̇͆̎̐͝ą̴̢̼̱͉͖͔̥͚̗̙̰̹̠̈̈́̔̓̅͒͜l̶̡͇̱̺̭̟̘̳͖̀͋̎ͅw̴̢͇͙̥̞̗͚͖̝̜̯͖̙̜͑a̷̻̚ỵ̴͖̝͂̄̽̔̓̋͗ͅs̶̡̻̼̯̖̱͕̩̠͇͙̽ ̸̫͓͔̣̲̹̬̣̝̘͓̝͔͂̈̓̾̌̿̓̈́͂͜͝b̶̨̛̥̟͎̰̻̱̗̖͖͗͛̎̊̿͝ǘ̸̦̟̮̯͒͛͂̋͒̚ṛ̶̡̧̛̖̫̱͈̪̃́̃͛̍̅̈̚͜͜͜ͅṅ̶̨̮̼̩͊͌̓̉̊͋̀̽ ̷̩̯̟̱̲͎͉̣̲̀̅̊͑̌͜t̶̹̹̠̜͚̯͖̜̣͆͆̉̎̎͂̏̈͜͝h̷̘̯̻͖͈̺̓̓̀́͠ͅè̴̢̡͓͚͇͎̖̭̦̘̀̾͐̅̓̐̓͑́̚͝͝͝͠m̴̞͉̦͙̝͎̤̫̳̄́̀͂̄̇͝͝͝


The shadow always there whispered in their ears. No. Esther didn't want to burn them. They didn't want to hurt the other gembound that had helped take down that strange thing! They could feel their fur catch flame, and that made the shadow dissipate. Someone yelled something about not breathing in the stuff that came off of the bear-golem, and Esther took a long experimental breath.

Nothing happened.

Why were they so scared if nothing was happening? Or was Esther just too powerful for whatever it was to take proper root in their lungs? Whatever it was, was it dangerous for the other gembounds? It had to be - why else would they be so scared? Maybe they should try to help.


D̷̡̝̬̳͎͓͙̩̦̂͋̏͘̕ȍ̵̢̘̼̗̥͚̤̲̜͈̒̎̐̂͛̅̚͝n̸̺̽̾́́̔̆͐̉̈͝'̴̡̧̢̧̦͍̻͓̲͇̗͉̬͔͒͒̔̅̽͐͘̕͠ͅt̸̻̺͙̙̣͙̯̳̔͋̔͘ ̵̧̛̱̱̪̗͔͗͒̃̅̑̊̉͝͝͝h̶̡͓̽̆̉̊͂͛̎̏͋͝e̷̢̺̺̝̠̭͍̒͌̈́̐̀͋͂̀̂̀̍͗̚͜͜͠l̴̨̘̝̖̫̦̮͍̖͈̼̒̎͆̑̅̃̿́́̈́͗̾ͅͅp̵̢̻̜̖̙̼̟̦͍͍͔̬̽̀̌̐͌́̾͜.̴̡͙͕̳͚̦̼̳̼̘̩̜̍̑̌̉ ̶̢̢̛̘͖͉̫̮̱̤̺͇̏̈̒͂͒͂͗͋͒͗͘͜͝W̸̧̥̩̜̲̬̿̓̎̃̒́̀̑̒̇̂̉a̶̡̬͉̺͚̩̫̦̖̝͙̎͛͜ͅt̵̡̩͈͎͚͖͖̟̙͈̪̠̬͕̿̅̆͗̈͋̊̅̿̽͝c̷̤̹͕̥͉̳̹͓͈̘̿̾̇̀͂̈́̅̓̊͋͠ͅḥ̴̛͓̯̙̒͂͂̔̀̃̓̍͘͠ ̴̯̗̠̺̣̬̤̘̟̊̆̋͛̚͜ṭ̵̢̳̗͓̙̻͕̪̺̞͛̈́̅̏̐͑̂̾̀̂͠͝h̸̢̤̘͉͎͈̮͙͔̻͐̈́͆e̸̡̥̱̳̙̠̓̂̋͂̒͋͂̄̊͘͜ ̷͕̯̭̜̦̺̰͍̈́̑̋̽͆̿̅͑̍͋̂̂͘̚̚c̷̢̨̣͎̯̦͖̺̰͚͕͍͈̈́̏̔ͅh̴͖̪̤̩̋͊͆͋̋̔͜͠ä̵̡̛̘̲̜̖̮̲̩͆͗̉͗͒͑̓̍́̔̚ő̵̧͎͉͔̩͔͍̤̎̈́̎̑̇̀͊͑͆̿̋͂̕͘ş̵̧̧͉̺̲͈͓̐͑̅̾̿͊̚͠.̴̗̪̟̜̆̈́


No. No they couldn't help, right? The chaos was a lot more fun to witness then to oppose. Don't oppose the chaos. View it instead. Their eyebrows pulled together in a makeshift expression of pain. Except they were feeling no pain - from the fire, sure. But it was nothing compared to the cold their own fire burned. That their own body created to slowly tear itself apart. Esther couldn't complain, though, since something in their head liked that pain. Something up there wanted them to try it again - the fire. To see if it would warm them. Except they were already warm, flames seething at their fur and turning it into a charred-black color. It crackled out, though, not long after.

The gembounds were still running around in fear.

Parts of the fur on their legs were charred black, around the scales, a normal thing for them to have there. If anything, the fur never returned to the right color, from them constantly burning it themselves and their body catching flame on its own. They decided they would try to help the others despite the little thing in their head demanding they don't.

Draconic wings lifted, and then flapped in an attempt to at least help someone
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