[Quest] LIFE FINDS A WAY - Printable Version

It was a typical day in Fornax.

The surf rushed along the shoreline, hissing and casting up dancing sprays of mist. A few four-winged Frogbeaks darted in and out over the water, dipping down to snatch up tiny fish fry in their beaks. All in all, the scene was peaceful.

Perhaps the only strange thing to be seen was the set of footprints that had settled in along the edge of Fornax's freshwater sea: huge prints with large, primate-like toes, punched so deeply that water had settled into every crevice. Each print was a couple of feet across. These prints led away along the beach--perhaps they led to something interesting..?

This peaceful, ordinary scene was suddenly interrupted. A horrific, loud rumble shook the entire cave, like a massive grinding, as though enormous boulders were falling down through Fornax's walls and bouncing the entire way. Stalactites trembled, broke, and cascaded down throughout the cave. The earthquake could be heard--and felt--throughout Origin, growing stronger the closer one was to Fornax.

It returned to stillness a moment later, though the Frogbeaks cried their alarm and circled in wild flocks.

Was the thundrous rumble related to the strange footprints..? What had caused all this? And where might it lead?

The Quest Life Finds A Way has begun. Anyone is free to join. GM posts will be made weekly.

Opie wakes from a dead sleep to the sensation of the world heaving and shattering. Déjà vu claims a not insignificant piece of his soul quickly thereafter, and his shriek of existential horror reaches a frequency that threatens to drown out the sound of the literal earthquake occurring underneath him. Frankly, were he not so blindly enraged, he would spare the thought to be impressed with himself.

"What the gray, smelly fuck is that?"

He scrambles up his window ledge, scrutinizing Orion with a beady-eyed look of blatant suspicion. It seems quiet enough-- aside from the earth having some sort of seizure, anyway. He hisses at his view of the place, to be sure, but apparently whatever's causing this stupid disturbance isn't immediately nearby.

Typical.

His nap now thoroughly murdered, Opie bitterly resigns himself to finding the culprit. His vengeance would shake the very heavens, which would never again completely still-- an eternally chained reaction, its consequences affecting all matter, time, and space for an endless epoch.

Admittedly, it takes a while for him to pin down the source of the shaking. The slit between Orion and the tunnel he needs is uncomfortably tight, and M itself is utterly obnoxious to trudge through, even for a tiny and dexterous opossum. Each minor inconvenience only worsens his temper, until its a proverbial supernova of pure, blistering fury.

Whatever this thing is, he's going to bite it hard, he resolves.

Fornax, though, choses the exact moment he arrives to go completely and utterly still. Aside from the Frogbeaks, of course, which swarm above his head and scream at a truly obnoxious volume. The conclusion he reaches from this can only be logical and certain.

Opie gives each and every flock a look specifically designed to make flowers wilt. "Which one of you absolute morons did that? Don't make me come up there! I can and I will. You just watch me!" he barks, standing on the tips of his toes in a futile attempt to make himself look bigger and more intimidating.

When word spread from the infected lessers in Fornax, Catalyst was one of the first to respond. She'd made sure the chrysalis of Mother's beloved was beneath a thick layer of mold before she'd left. She was quick to investigate, her usual coat of furs slung around her shoulders, hiding the clumps of white that dotted her. She slunk around the entrance of the cave like a cat, footsteps soft. She was content to stay in the background, until she saw a small...lesser like creature with a pink tail. A very ...angry lesser-like creature, yelling at the birds above. She tilted her head, a slit eye darting about, watching the screeching, disturbed frogmouths.

After a moment of watching she snorted, and turned her attention back to the child. Catalyst approached the child slowly, as if tentative. "I don't think it was the lessers." She says. She'd faced ice worms and invasions before, yet she strangely finds herself somewhat intimidated by the small opossum. For something so small, it was so angry. A claw tapped nervously. Yet she felt a pang of sympathy for this child. It was alone and angry. She wondered how long it had been like that.

"Mmm, I've done magic like that rumble before," she says, thinking aloud. "Ah, on a...um, smaller scale. Here:" She taps a claw to the ground in front of her, and a weak shudder begins, a few of the smoothed pebbles on the beach shaking. "Maybe something with my magic but...stronger?" She couldn't recall anything she'd seen like that. She digs through her memory for something useful. The blacksmith had had hidden knowledge, but not on this scale, and with simple dyes. She couldn't recall anything like this. But if Mother could pilot golems, then anything within the caves was possible.

She squints her eyes. She lifted her muzzle, searching the expanse of Fornax with her eyes. And there--she spotted it. One hole. Catalyst darted away from the opossum, to the deep hole. And not far from that, another hole. And another. Her eyes glinted with excitement. She sniffed the hole, trying to identify what, exactly, the holes were left by. Was it another golem? Large enough for one. But it wasn't in Polaris. Could it be something else? "Something here." The raptor mutters.

A rumbling shakes the caves. A horrible grinding, trembling, crashing sound of rock-on-rock, screaming through the earth like dying rats; Tsetse had started at the sound, looking around as if waiting for her impending doom through falling boulder. It certainly sounded like the cave wanted to collapse on her.

But she's left unscathed, if confused, listening to the frantic cawing of birds overhead. A search down a nearby tunnel had traced the epicenter back to Fornax—Fornax, and for a moment, seeing the waters, her breath stilled.

It has been a long time since she has been back to her hatchplace. She wonders how her Master is doing, what projects she has set herself upon; her own directive lays heavy in the back of her head. A neglected task that itches at her, an old, festering wound. (Her sense of responsiblity, of putting things off, leaks out through her ears.)

It has been a long time, but her return to her old hatching cave now feels fitting; her chaos-magic has developed, grown, and rivulets of polluted water drip down her form as oily sweat. The Oil fills her mouth, her sinuses, pours out her gleaming vents, overflows; the sensation of it on skin pleases Tsetse.

She's distracted from self-satisfied introspection by the feeling of another tremble tickling at her hooves. Gleaming eyes flick sharp to the source: a raptorial being, reptilian, sharp-fanged. For a moment Tsetse wonders if she was the cause of the quake; but no, she's already explaining to a little creature even further down on the ground than the raptor herself. Some sort of demonstration.

Her eyes linger on the fluffy thing as well, noting the furless tail and sharp expression. Even on his back legs the tips of his ears barely measure to the raptor's ankles; Tsetse takes amusement at the sight, restraining a laugh. I'd no idea cave rats could be sapient.

He'd sicken and die like all the rest of them, she's sure, but she restrains from testing that hypothesis. There are more intriguing things at hoof, for now.

Bayo was used to a lot of things that happened in the caves. Contests, fights, mind-controlling fungus, child soldiers... you know, everyday things. But one thing he knew for sure was that the caves would always surprise him no matter where he went.

So when Fornax rumbled like the caves were about to come down, Bayo wasn't surprised, per say. Shocked? Yes, but it was just like the caves to start rumbling and grumbling like they were right there and then. Of course he'd run for cover, he wasn't stupid, but the moment he knew it was safe he was out and running to go see what-in-the-hay that was.

"Well I'll be darned, I ain't seen gembounds a'gatherin' like this in forever!" he exclaimed, trotting up to the gathered group with a big grin and a wagging tail. "Howdy folks! What's all this here fuss about?"

He approached the footprints curiously, ears pricked forward as he stared down at them curiously. He hadn't met any creature that had made such prints, but such a statement didn't mean much when the caves were littered with all manner of beast from mouse to monster. But they were big, so that had to mean something.

"Hey! Mr. Loud-Mouth! There ain't no need for all that caterwaulin', them birdies up there didn' do nothin' like this. I'll bet t'was one of them folk from beyond Pegasus, y'know, the big ones," he said, painfully oblivious to the fact that one of the beings he spoke of was standing right next to him. But he walked over to the opossum yelling at the frogbeaks, looking down at him curiously like one might examine a croaking frog before addressing another, the dinosaur. "Anyway, I think you're right! Sorry, I dunno e'rybody's names. But it could be some kinda magic, the caves like t' throw that sorta stuff at us all th' time!"

Bayo returned to the footprints and sniffed at them, hoping to catch some kind of scent to follow.

Apparently, Aethril couldn't even go for a walk without being bothered.

She had barely stepped foot in Orion when the walls began to shake. Instinct told her someone must have been practicing magic nearby-- but its source seemed much too far for any run-of-the-mill Gembound that the Nest had been spitting out. With flicking ears she paused and she waited for the tremours to stop, and then she was turning her heel and click-click-clicking into tunnel M.

When the Valkhand arrived some minutes later, her nose crinkled with distaste. Two of the Gembound that had already gathered she recognized, one a little more distantly and the other from a much more recent encounter.

"Oh," she bemoaned, pale eyes on Opie. "It's you."

Luckily for him, Aethril's attention was elsewhere other than maiming the opossum, drifting like a cat hunting prey. To Tsetse, the other one she recognized, she gave an idle nod. To one stranger, the canine, her lip curled-- stinky, ugly, dog.

"Shut up," she said-- but to who she was speaking to was entirely unclear.

A few steps more and Aethril found herself standing next to Catalyst, staring down at the footprints. Humanoid, she thought-- but in truth, she could not wholly be sure. It would have had to have been... a very large humanoid.

The Hand's eyes lifted to the raptor, expectantly. "They point that way. Keep following them."

Life was better when you had family with you wherever you went.

That was Jinyi's philosophy, anyway, and it was a pretty darn good philosophy if he did say so himself. Hence, his presence here with Catalyst. When the news of the earthquake came streaming along the Hive's link like another aftershock, and he'd felt himself shift while standing still in an oddly dizzying way, he'd extricated himself from the complex matters of chip-making as soon as he could to come investigate with his sibling.

The others here were... less than ideal. A loud, yelling... rodent?; a towering chaotic being dripping with its filthy, Oily curse; a canine that seemed mostly inoffensive; and a tall, blue-haired biped that just screamed bad news.

Actually, it wasn't her screaming bad news. It was Mother. Mother, along their mental link, not screaming but certainly warning them: That one. Bad news. And the equine was bad news too, of course, but that part was more obvious to even a Drone with just a cycle of life behind them and little experience.

Jinyi kept his gaze focused on the massive footprints, doing his level best to exude the image of an intellectual merely interested by the unusual events going on. He was no different from the diverse range of Gembound here, really. Really.

He felt bad for Catalyst, having to stand right next to Person #1 of the Bad News Duo. At least she hadn't really looked at either of them suspiciously. He did his best to send good vibes over, though. Like a good emotional support sibling.

Some others were sniffing around the footprints--Jinyi didn't have a good nose, compared to some animals out there, so he hung back, watching with interest to see where this would all go.

Rumblings that loud were never a sign of anything normal. At this point, Madhukar felt a deep familiarity with the chaos of the ever-shifting caves. It was a familiarity that had made her weary. She had attended such oddities, blended into the inevitable crowds, observed and participated, occasionally lent her skills. Her skill. She knew this would be no different, but somehow it wasn't monotonous. It was the designated break from monotony. For this moment stretched forth like an olive branch from time, Madhukar did not need to act the part of a body severed from a brain. For this period, this recess, she could forget by becoming encompassed in unfamiliarity, absence of personal stakes, in the mystery of Fornax and the massive flipping footprint on the ground and the uproarious crackle of the entire cave system.

For this limited lapse in living, Madhukar could ponder the existence of bigger fish in need of frying. Fish far larger than... no flipping way.

There was commotion, a crowd, most certainly, and then there was. Something Madhukar did not want to see even a little, latent within it, leeching off its vigorous energy. The first thing she did was hide from that thing behind a different, similarly large (from her perspective) creature who she figured wouldn't notice or care about her proximity given their size difference and the setting. The second thing she did was paw at her face, suddenly extremely unbearably aware of the absence of splinter-y bark. New magic lurched towards her silent plea, attempting to grow it then and there: bark armor for her bare face. It grew large knots, perhaps more unruly in form than Madhukar wanted or could handle, overreacting to her emotions. For a moment, her panic only increased with the reveal of the new spell. Then, Madhukar was done taking the crummy, unfortunate moments that time kept giving her. With the Amulet of Pause, she could steal a new, better moment, just for herself to occupy.

~~~

Beat. Beat. Beat. Inhale... release.

~~~

Her final measure of defense was pulling her new cowl down over her head. New outfit, new disguise, new mutations... perhaps she would escape its awful, evil notice. Perhaps she could continue on participating like this, or slip away somehow. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Ever since the appearance of Rrevalk crashing through the Palace, and Obieth's later awakening, she'd felt... damaged. She'd mostly kept to herself, slinking in the shadows, though it was hard to tell there was anything wrong from the outside: she had always been quiet, really, and she still slept in her silk-pillowed bed, still sought out corn dogs to eat in portions that were far too large.

But she felt, somehow, like she'd failed.

Part of it was her horrific imperfection, now: clusters of her Oilstone now jutted, jagged, from her skull before and behind her plates; another along her hip, pressed up through the skin in a shorter cluster that glittered like a geode. Part was the knowledge that she'd pretty much abandoned Aethril for the cycle or so that she'd been out cold. The first thing she'd done on wakening was (worriedly) chase her mistress down, ensuring she was all right--but since then, though things had mostly been normal, she'd noticed that Aethril tended to... well, to get into trouble.

She'd managed to give Obieth the slip a few times, but today the Valkcat was determined to follow along and keep the Hand safe. At first, she'd followed only by way of the perfumed scent, quite some distance behind--and then, in Orion, the walls had begun to shake. Obieth had broken into a sprint.

She wasn't sure if Aethril'd noticed her now trailing along some distance behind, but she drew up now with a glance around, a thirsty few laps of the water, a lash of tongue over whiskered lips. She gave the strangers a once-over, noting the scruffy rat-thing, the strange skeletal-looking beast, the equally scruffy dog-creature, the... whatever Jinyi was, the two-headed monstrosity and the weird sort-of-cat. Then she took in her surroundings a little more thoroughly.

The gentle rush of surf hissing against the beach was at once both soothing and irritating: a peaceful rhythm but one that to Obieth--unused to it--would have kept her from sleep had she spent the night here. The light--here, and in the deliciously frigid tunnel up--was so much brighter, more white and glaring, than she was used to seeing in Cepheus. The scent of sea was... interesting; it was organic, full of life and death, somehow both appetizing and disgusting as if it contained both food and rot. Perhaps it did.

She didn't know.

But the warmth here, at least, was welcome--particularly after the tunnel's cold--and if the ground hadn't been wet and sandy, Obieth would have dropped right down to bask in it. As it was, the ground was a mess, so she lifted her paws (flicking them irritatedly with every step) as she made her way up half-alongside, half-behind Aethril.

She made no attempt to hide herself as she spoke. "Is this where that shaking came from-?" Her eyes narrowed a little, tail flicking, and she reached out with her magic, to see if there was anything to sense. She sensed nothing--whether because there was nothing to sense, or because she hadn't focused the magic enough--but it satisfied her, for now.