[Hatch] Tell Me, O Muse - Printable Version

Archimedes wasn't too far off. He'd been living in the area, waiting for the stone to hatch.

Sometimes he was not alone; it wasn't at all beyond his recognition that the child might be as empty-hearted as its lifegiver, and given the possibilities of its anatomy, he didn't necessarily trust just his snake against it should it turn on him.

When he heard the stone cracking he was washing up near the river, after a meal of fish shared with the Golden Charger. He turned, whiskers twitching; a second click of stone falling to the ground told him that it was time. He wasn't sure if anyone else of the Organization was near enough to have heard it, but at this point it didn't matter; he clambered aboard the Charger's head, turning it toward the chrysalis.

He arrived to find the child spilling onto the floor, blinking around; the snake slowed, tongue flicking, and Archimedes leapt down. "Welcome to the world," he offered, sitting upright beside the snake. The child clearly had a lot of size yet to grow into--not that that mattered much compared to a rat. But it was ungainly, the eyes and limbs oversized. It will grow much larger, yes, he judged. "I'm Archimedes. Father, if you prefer."

He paused, expecting that this child would barely comprehend language, as yet. A word or two, perhaps, as was normal for a fresh hatchling; but he'd give them time to process what he'd said thus far.

One of the Organization wasn't too far away; Archimedes had asked for the Champion to hang around, presumably just in case something went awry.

(Maybe this kid's parent would come back for it, now that it hatched? They didn't know! Parentage was a bit of a strange concept.)

Gatto was strutting around, scavenging for bugs in Polaris with a bored air. There hadn't been much excitement thus far, and they weren't sure that there would be.

(They were hoping something would happen. They were itching for a challenge.)

(Not that they wanted anything to happen to Archie or the hatchling, of course. Not that anything could happen with Gatto around!)

Regardless, at the crystal clear crack of a stone breaking, the bird's head swung around, and they made their meandering way over. While they liked to make big, flourishing reveals and grand entrances, they supposed it would be better to keep a low profile for now. This was all about the Big Cheese and his new Kid, after all. They weren't about to steal the spotlight.

(Frankly, that would be way too easy.)

So, anyway, the towering cockatrice kept a fair distance from the group, several paces back from the charger, his rider, and the hatchling. They cocked their head, watching the way that Archimedes interacted with the new ball of life. Then, they craned their head to sweep the perimeter, half-expectant that a massive eyehook would come diving down out of no where to snatch the babe out from underneath them.

Hungry-... Ahh. He should have expected as much. At least Gatto was here; he'd heard the scratch of claws approach, and glanced over his shoulder with a nod. The bird-creature's presence was a reassurance.

Archimedes looked back to the child. His first instinct had been to hunt, or to ask Gatto to do so. But he paused as he realized he didn't know what this one would want to eat.

It has wings, he noted, half-distractedly, then took a moment to wash his whiskers, thinking. "What would you like to eat? -Do you know? Plants? Fish, meat?" He couldn't quite remember what the lifegiver had mentioned about diet. Had it been something odd? "We'll help, of course. I and... Cousin Gatto." He'd get around to asking the kid its name, but in the meantime, a filled belly was safer for all of them.

Cousin Gatto strode over at their introduction, strutting with a flourish of their tail feathers and a flick of their wings. "Welcome to the world, youngster!" They squawked, spreading their wings as they did a dramatic bow, their beak nearly brushing the stone floor with the deepness of the movement. May as well make the kid feel special.

They glanced up, comb wobbling as they ground their beak in thought. "None of those sound good, huh? What about bugs?" They suggested, squinting. What else did things eat? "Well, water won't kill you. Maybe we start with some water, and that'll get your stomach thinking straight." It was, well, a suggestion. It seemed sensible.

(Besides, water was much more important than food. Just had to make sure the kid didn't fall in.)

Archimedes listened, puzzling over this. When the two had both spoken, he turned to Gatto, thinking. "I remember being told it should have multiple diet options. But--what was it..." He wracked his brain for a moment. The stranger had said a good many things, many of them sounding like brags, and while Archimedes had set most of it aside in the corners of his memory, this one eluded him.

It snapped into place a few moments later, and he looked to the child sharply. "Blood?" he asked, thinking. "Was it blood?"

He then looked to Gatto, again. "I think you have the right idea regardless. Let's see if we can find a safe place to drink. And then we will try to scrounge up some food, one way or another."

He turned, hopping back onto the Charger's thick neck; the serpent flicked its tongue and began to coil into Polaris.

It was to be a brief adventure, or so Archimedes hoped: some fresh water and then a simple, short hunt, to see what they could find the child.