[Event] Echoes - Printable Version

Bez picked his way in silence, awkwardly quiet behind the rest. He was only a toddler, and while not shy exactly, he was wary about what they might know that he did not. Or what they might do. Even so young, he was a bit calculating--aware that letting the rest go first, to take the risks, was best.

That wasn't to say the echoes hadn't fascinated him. He followed along--stumbling, toddling, wide-eyed--naked (and thankfully sexless) and clumsy behind wisps of shapes that came and went. Spear-tail thwapped awkwardly behind him, fangs bared as the child tumbled to his knees now and then in ill-conceived attempts to sprint. Stubby wings flapped, and carried him in short bursts but that was the end of it; there was no graceful flight or silent landing.

But he was here, now; no more stumbling and falling and scrambling. Only silence, a baleful little stare from behind the rest.

At least the cats were small. He didn't feel too worried about them trying to eat him. And the big one--wasn't that one family..?

He spoke at last, pushing forward a little bit, catching up to the group. "What're those?" he asked, pudgy finger pointing toward an echo as it passed.

ECHOES

the whispered words

Some of them had picked at the mystery with magic. Tourmaline's touch was cast adrift across the curtain of hanging moss: a moss which was alive, and so her glimpse was perhaps a decade old at most. A beauty in silence, the wall already thick, hanging silent and glistening with Pisces' dew. Hanging undisturbed. This living wall was years old, at the very least.

Wilder's magic resonated, and informed her--clearly and without doubt--that this was the magic of Natural Order. There was no danger of Order here, no threat of Chaos; whatever this was, it was something of the caves.

*

Onward, and onward. They came more thickly now--wispy shapes, passing and passing through the clustered Gembounds, a cascade that formed a here-and-gone pilgrimage. Each existed for a scant few seconds but it was enough for the ghostly trail of voices to be heard.

Two gray cats--one of long fur, and one short--passed side-by-side beyond Tourmaline and Wilder. 'If you wish,' mewled one; the other's mouth moved for a moment before its words became audible. '...The Mother has given you an amazing ability! Perhaps you'll...' and it trailed away, the echoes vanishing to nothing. A wolverine, gemstone horns crowning its skull, weaved at the rear. 'Fight me head on you coward,' it seemed to say, but what might have once been a roar of fury had dimmed to a distant whisper. A zebra with stripes the hue of milk chocolate drifted past, hooves noiseless on the rock, her words a voiceless nothing drifting along behind her: 'Is someone there? I heard something...' And appearing ahead, blinking into reality before swiftly fading, a great black horse with a violet horn at its forehead. 'Over here...'

...and on and on, a trail of them, leading forward.

Forward, through the shallow waters that wound around the bamboo groves; forward, curling past the great clusters of glowing crystals that lit the way. Forward, past a flat place of stone sheltered by the shielding canopy of a tree-... and forward, beyond the flowing waters, into the silence of...

...Andromeda.

Gembounds may now exit this thread. They will be tagged shortly in a new thread in a newly opened cave.

Wilder flinched and moved out of the way as two ghostly cats swept between her and Tourmaline. She blinked, shivering. Did it say…’Mother’? For the first time she felt a twinge of fear. She’d felt the presence of Natural Order only, no Order or Disorder to be found, but the words had her on edge now. She checked again, observing the cave around them, and felt no presence of Order. Only that which was of the Spire.

Taking a deep breath, she strode forward, more cautious than before. Following the ghosts through the tunnel, all senses alert and ready for danger.

*exit

Fracture my spine

Voices. So many muted snippets of former lives streamed by. Alone they could've been dismissed as a brief loosening of one's grip on reality, but together they were a chorus unable to be brushed away. Whatever harmony existed was happenstance as random phrases faded into existence. For some there might have been a vain attempt to try to find nonexistent connections behind all this spectral chatter anyway. In Karambit's case, none of it mattered; the monster listened only for the distant cry of its sibling amongst the din.

Compelled so strongly to follow, it paid little mind to how far it might have pulled ahead of the rest of the group. The increasing lack of warm bodies flooding its sight, in fact, proved a boon. Without the clutter, there would be no chance of losing Creo's presence—unfortunately that could never be caught in the first place, since it possessed no flesh or blood to perceive.

"Creeeeo," it continued screeching. "Creeeeoooo?"

Unaware of the futility of its constant attempts at contact, the calls didn't cease. They likely never would until it at last reached the end of this ghostly procession. Maybe not even then, considering the monster's determined frenzy as it searched for someone unable to be found. Treated to the pleasant sound of a long-silenced voice, nothing more than a proper response would shut up Karambit. It yearned too much for the companionship of family that once was to stop otherwise.

And swear that you're mine

The image of an untouched eternity settles in Tourmaline's mind, soothing her rattled nerves. As the bliss of the moss carpet's past fades away, she finds her resolve steeled - there is a mystery here to be unraveled, begging her to investigate.

"Well, no way but onward," she says to no one in particular, trailing the quickly-vanishing ghosts of the two felines. She'd missed them speak about Mother while she was in her own trance, but they'd serve to bring her to the awaiting darkness beyond.

While he may not have been able to summon the best words to convey lack of concern, Richter's ongoing demeanor made up plenty for his stumbling speech and the manifestation of nervous habits therein. As figures composed of little more than what appeared to be shifting smoke phased on through the moss veil to the other side, unwaveringly he stared after them, fascination recaptured by the sheer scale this ghostly migration had gained in the midst of everyone's curiosity and confusion. Although suspecting there'd be no difference caused by him doing so, the joey dared to reach out for one of these specters; his expectations were confirmed when the wispy form ignored his very existence and drifted past fur, flesh, and bone.

Despite this being no real surprise, it resulted in a backwards flick of his ears. He drew back his paw and touched it with an awed murmur of "well, I'll be."

No fear needed to be shrugged off in order to convince himself to follow farther. The leash constructed by the endless questions the proceedings brought up merely tugged at and guided Richter after the crowd of purposeful dead. He hopped into the adjoining tunnel chasing after answers and the possibility of more wonders unable to be fully comprehended, both causing his heart to hammer against his rib cage.

Pride moved along carefully, his steps delicate and his head high. He was alert, but calm. The idea of a new region to explore was fascinating, and a part of him could not help but hope that perhaps at last there'd be a way out. An opening, a path to freedom, an escape-...

His silver gaze flicked to the younger among them, though, and in particular his family. Wilder was--ignored; he would protect the children as best he could, and while his mind was ready for attack, he didn't particularly expect one.

Pale hooves carried him onward, past the curtain, down the tunnel to Andromeda beyond.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

Oh, there were--a lot of Gembounds here now. He felt almost shy, but excited, too; this was a chance to make new friends! Most of them didn't seem to be interacting, though; a few maybe knew each other (he thought) but most were too enraptured by what was going on. He couldn't blame them for that, really.

He was careful as he made his way. Some of them were very small, and he didn't want to step on them by accident. Giant feet were cautiously placed, then, as he wove his way through the narrower areas of the tunnel. He stared in awe at the water that splashed gently underfoot, and sniffed with curiosity at the umbrella-like tree that they passed.

"This is cool," was all he said, eyes wide with fascination.