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YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Printable Version +- ORIGIN (https://origin.boreal-nights.space) +-- Forum: IC Archives (https://origin.boreal-nights.space/forumdisplay.php?fid=50) +--- Forum: Year 5 Archives (https://origin.boreal-nights.space/forumdisplay.php?fid=55) +--- Thread: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM (/showthread.php?tid=7561) |
RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Pride - Mar 15 2020 The stag kept quiet, and kept his magic to a minimum, at first. He knew he'd have to keep it, keep his strength, for the battle--and it was unlikely that they'd be discovered, traipsing through the mud and dark and mist, as they were. Yet... what if the fungus-laden could sense them, themselves? An element of surprise was a decisive point in any battle, he knew. So when Reign--and he nodded to the cheetah, a greeting, an acknowledgement--offered up a flash of static, he called on his own magic, instead. Frowning. Focused. He'd never tried this, before; but his light had always failed him, in Cetus. Perhaps darkness would do better. "I shall do my best to hide us," Pride announced, quietly, and drew down a shroud of blackness that seemed to cover the group. It was not strong enough to darken the whole cave--but perhaps that was for the best; to do so might draw suspicion. But it cloaked the prowling group in shadows, enhancing what darkness was already there, so that even Pride's white coat slipped into pitch, instead. "Ask your bird to guide the dragon," he suggested, quietly, to Giggle. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Dragon - Mar 15 2020 Flashes of static. Intelligent commands. A shroud of darkness. The group was smarter, and better, than he could have possibly hoped for. Dragon rarely left Cetus, and so he'd had no idea of their capabilities. Now, it seemed to him, unless the Hive had grown very strong, they would provide little challenge against the oncoming army. If the alligator's permanent grin was optional, it would have been spreading across his face now regardless. He delighted in battle. Fighting was his element. Combat was his song. He concentrated, briefly, and black magic shrouded him like a cloud, darker even than Pride's shadows; great, draconic wings sprouted from his back. They faltered, briefly, and for a moment he startled, fearing they would fail; but after a weak beginning they solidified. Illusory horns spread back from his skull, and both wings and horns twisted with threads of blood-red, giving Dragon a surprisingly draconic appearance. "I will join the other dragon, in attacking from the air," he declared, proudly--because, obviously, Dragon was a dragon. What else could he be, with such a name-? He lifted up, but it was not the graceful forward sweep of Dread; instead, the alligator struggling to catch up to the circling black dragon was a near-vertical mess of too much weight and one dangling, crippled leg. The magical wings beat, and he did fly, certainly--but there was little grace in it. Dragon didn't mind. Grace wasn't necessary for destruction. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Dread - Mar 15 2020 Dread simply... circled. The shroud of black made him shriek in annoyance, though he was at least a clever enough hunter that it was a very, very quiet shriek; more of a high-pitched grumble, really. But Omen was there, to follow, if he got lost; and Reign, below, was very kindly arcing with bright flashes of electricity. He looked down, watching his path--avoiding the tangled tree limbs--and keeping a close eye on the group. On the stag, shrouded in shadow; on the glowing-eyed creature shadowing him. And- From the corner of Dread's eye, a heavy, dark alligator, grinning and swathed in dark magics, rose vertically from the ground. It was mere yards away, rising into his peripheral vision like a terrible dream. Dread balked, nearly falling from the air in surprise, and a couple of deep, bass-thump whumphs of his wings brought him back and higher. He blinked and stared. "DRAGON!?" he demanded, and it was unclear if he meant the alligator's name, or if he were asking if it were, in fact, a dragon. It looked-... ridiculous, he thought; hovering, vertical, its thick ridged tail dangling directly downward. But the alligator just grinned at him, and agreed, and swept on past, and Dread had to turn and beat his wings in order even to catch up. WHAT? he thought, wondering just how the hell a fat water-lizard had taken to the air. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Ischium - Mar 15 2020
@Giggle RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Temperantia - Mar 15 2020 Temperantia was in its preferred position above Mother's nest. It floated upon a tree branch, swaying with the tree. Its' eyes were closed, peaceful. But disconcerting things were being shared along the link-- strange scents from one of the bears. A Child of Rot. And more behind, apparently. One of the others had spotted them. It parsed its brain for their name. The one with many consciousnesses. Yes, Legion. Did someone invite the Children? Are they here to join our family? If someone did invite the Children of Rot, why wasn't Temperantia aware? Didn't they share? It made the sentient Hula Hoop nervous. If Mother felt they should investigate, then they would. Yes, we think you should check. I will help, too.It peeled its eyes open, one at a time. They did not hear anything. Perhaps they could spot something. Temperantia flapped its wings, giving it enough momentum to climb into the sky. It wasn't particularly quick, Temperantia wasn't an organism built for speed. Or anything, really. Leaves rasped irritably against its chitin, and it was forced to blink on more than one occasion. It crested the top of the tree. It scanned the horizon with its many eyes. It rotated slowly, each eye focusing on another piece of the cave. But, they did see something. It was too far away for Temperantia to make out. A dark shape in the distance, with a pair of flapping wings. Maybe two pairs of wings? Or was it two creatures? Unnervingly, whatever it was seemed to be traveling in their direction. Temperantia did not like that. We see something as well. It said. It flies, like us. It comes towards us. But, maybe they are not here for us. Maybe they will leave. The last part was more hopeful than certain. In any case, Temperantia did not want to be spotted up there. They wanted to be with their family. They drifted down to the ground. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Hera - Mar 15 2020
RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Eythan - Mar 15 2020 Because Navy has just remembered that he's in this thread, Eythan didn't offer much by way of conversation or strategy - except for a quiet RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Pallas - Mar 17 2020 His statue-esque stance held in the barely-hollow hole of the tree was bothered. Mind stirred to life as Mother willed it, and his neck craned over, nerves spreading like mycelium to feel the others. Long ago, it would have been overwhelming to sense with as many eyes as Legion or Temperantia- but now, it was like a second home to him. It wasn't like he could- or even wanted to- shut off the inputs to his mind.
He stepped out into the murky shadows, void eyes bright and head high. The children come- but this thing in the sky, that was not a normal feature of the cave they called home. They were going so well. And these others, these... Visitors, they would soon be welcome guests for their family. Oh, yes, they wanted to thrive, just as they told Oliver. But perhaps with some welcome additions, they would thrive. His attention pulled towards them in stutters, eyes scanning where Legion once was, where they had felt the Child approach. He couldn't see much in this dark, yet he strained, all senses alert as he sniffed at the air for any familiars. There, through all his inputs- the beast high above, the murky coasting in the waters. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Azrael - Mar 17 2020 He stood outside of the den, as always, all palms held open and facing different directions, giving him more feedback then he could get from just two eyes. At the rousing of his family, however, his arms dropped and he focused his attention forward, nostrils flaring as he tried to detect those approaching as well. He could sense them through the others - many. RE: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM - Lamia - Mar 17 2020 From her place guarding the hive in Pisces, Lamia waited, drifting peacefully at the bottom of the small pool. She at first took no note of the activity in Cetus - they were far from here and there was often things for the family there to do. However, when the first stirrings of faint alarm began to go off, from Pallas...Azrael...the new one, Temperantia, she raised her head and focused on the feedback. |