For the Collector children.

Down along the riverbank, set higher up than the water, was a broad, flat area of reddish rock. Like so much of Monoceros, it looked mostly bare; desert, even, empty and dusty as the water rushed past below. A single old, gnarled tree with little foliage hung overhead, but bar that, the place was lifeless.

At least, it usually was.

Today, there was a small picnic set out--though no one was partaking. Instead, the colorful rug spread on stone--with baskets and plates of fresh bread, cured meat, fruits and cheese--was untouched, if beautifully prepared. And to one side were another few... incongruous items.

Picture, if you will, a creaking, wooden rocking chair beneath the desert 'sun.' A black-cloaked figure rocks there gently, one hoofed leg across the other; a pair of half-moon reading glasses glint beneath his hood. He turns the old page of a well-worn book, looking spectacularly comfortable there, and now and then he reaches to the cup of tea--part of a steaming tea set on a tray--perched upon a tiny, tall table to his right.

Ahh, and if one looked closely: the chrysalises, swollen with life, gleaming here and there where they were carefully spread amongst the terrain around him.

His new family is about to hatch, and the Collector looks the part as he so patiently awaits them.

He looks the part of a grandmother, but he certainly looks like family.

Within the angel aura quartz, a pinkish-white gemstone that glittered all the colors of the rainbow when light hit it at just the right angle, lay a gembound that really was quite the opposite of what the stone promised to hold. It was a creature in hues of only black and grey, and the only sign of their connection with the chrysalis that held them was the cluster of the quartz that emerged from their back. Glowing red eyes opened.

The butterfly cat was quite unhappy with the current state of things. It was much to squished in here, and their wings were feeling quite cramped. A kick, then another- and the gembound tumbled out of the chrysalis, leaving shards of the glittering quartz strewn around them. Red eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the light. Their gaze eventually focused upon... rug. They did not know it was a rug, but it looked soft. They stumbled onto the rug and laid down. Soft, they liked soft. And then they stared at the Collector, knowing that he was significant somehow, but not sure in what way.

The gemstone was particularly pretty- translucent with strands of gold suspended within, like someone had captured sunlight to bring down to the depths. The hatchling growing inside wasn't visible, except for a vague shadow that sometimes shifted in it's slumber. He was content, and didn't feel any particular desire to wake up. There was one problem, though.

He was simply outgrowing his cocoon.

First he curled tighter and tighter, but there was a point where he no longer could. Where the tight stone pressed against his ribs, his skull, his feet, and everything else. He wasn't BREATHING yet, but instinct woke him up with the fresh terror of suffocation.

Haphazard flailing moments sent shards of rutiliated quarts skittering far from the chrysalis itself- some tinking against nearby, unhatched chrysalises. The beast gasped for a moment, eyes wild and flickering with the remaining fear that was quickly draining and being replaced with relief. He took stock of hid surroundings- several stones, only one other broken like his.

Did the others need help? Bulrush hadn't needed help, but he was big. Bigger than the rest of the stones. He watched the catfly on the square not-dirt. THEY were quite small. Had THEY hatched on their own, or had the Watching One helped them hatch? They knew the Watching One hadn't hatched from a stone- something told them they were older, and Important. Alike to both himself and the Catfly.

A soft, dull rumble escaped him as he rose to his feet. There were MANY stones around here. Maybe if he helped one, and then DIDN'T help one, he would figure out if helping would... help.

The stone he decided on 'helping' was another pretty one- it looked very much like the gemstone of the Catfly, pale pinkish and iridescent, something straight out of a Claires. It took him a while to actually GET to the stone, though- his one foot was encrusted in the same gemstone he'd hatched out of, and it was much too big and heavy for him to lift. He settled on dragging it, accompanied by the horrible sound of stone against stone. His eyes squinted with discomfort at the noise, but it was either The Noise or stay in the same spot forever.

He took a moment to size up his opponent- did it count as an opponent when you were trying to help them? Through violence? Well, the ROCK was his opponent, not the creature-sibling inside. That worked. That made a whole lot of sense.

Logic firmly in place, Bulrush slammed his skull against the side of the chrysalis. Luckily, He had the skull and barely-budded horns built for such a thing, but it still rattled his head a little bit.

@Ruse [Perms acquired :)]

One moment there was nothing, and the next-- crack, crunch, crash! Out tumbled the strange, feathered-ape child into the dry air of Monoceros. Mouth opened and closed with tiny squeaks, deep brown eyes peering about from behind a half-mask of gemstone.

As xe observed the world about xem for the first time, xe felt a deep understanding bloom from within xem. Xir body blossomed with the microscopic life of millions of tiny things; and so did the strangers that toddled nearby and the tall one who sat watching them all.

So fascinated by this discovery, xe sat on xir butt and watched the different currents of bacteria drift in, on, around the various surfaces. Xe reached out a talon-tipped hand toward the nearby kitten with butterfly wings, a babbling nonsense chittering from xir beak.


@Thief - Xqbshcm wants to pet :3

The rock was not the dinosaur's only opponent. No no, perhaps that is what he had thought, or had hoped, but the beast within that offensively tacky chrysalis would not let it be so. As he approached, the dinosaur baby might notice the fearsome, forcesome rustling and shuffling of something powerful inside the stone. Step ever closer and he might feel the rush of adrenaline—drama, tension, potential energy! Something hungry awaited, craving the fresh air outside its cocoon. Pushing, pressing, the conducting of an orchestra of pressure and heat to rival the sweeping winds of Monoceros!! What manner of rainbow sherbet monster could be locked within this quartz dungeon?!! Could it be... perhaps... the one! The only!! THE—

KRih-KRaH-CRACK—! BANG! POW!!

THE AS-OF-YET UN-NAMED, UN-TITLED, TODDLERRR!!!!!

Hooves pounded and flailed against the dense shroud of rock until finally something gave way, and—with totally minimal assistance, really almost no help at all if you don't think about it—a baby's teeny, pristine white hooves came loose. The dinosaur might feel the earth shudder from the weight of the newly-conceived-of entity—or he might just feel like a few little flecks of chrysalis weakly smack his nose.

From there, a pair of little fuzzy legs came out, and then a soft, round baby belly, and then all the rest of the kitten-satyr-thing's mug. Two little eyelids would flicker open, casting a hypnotically pink gaze upon the dino baby. This, theydies and gentlethems, was Ruse. Or at least it would be soon. He laid flat on his back now, covered in amniotic fluid, gazing upward at the ceiling and the random flipping guy right in front of it. He had no knowledge of the Watching One, the other stones, the significance of creation and birth. He was just kind of here, for now. For the first few seconds he had no desire to get up and do anything else except simply Be. And then he noticed that Being was kind of cold and sticky and generally uncomfortable, and dino baby looked like... less of all those things. So soon-to-be-Ruse did what his first impulse was and reached upward and outward. If he failed to reach anything from his position on the floor, he would simply pout, huff, and reach harder. Maybe even throw in a grabby hands sort of motion. Clearly, he was too stubborn to try standing, and he had only just been hatched. Oh dear.

@Bulrush

The particular chrysalis housing this creature was oddly transparent, clouded enough by imperfections and rutile inclusions to not be glass-like, but it was obvious that there was a mass growing in there and that mass was quite blue. It was also quite obvious when the mass shifted, signaling the slow awakening of new life.

It's first feeling, first thoughts, after a moment of drifting silently between sleeping and awake, were of a distant confusion. Curiosity. Eyes opened and they could see...things. Shapes, outside the walls of quartz. They were nothing but that - shapes with color, but curiosity was already taking hold of the newly formed creature and its first desire was to get out there.

They started first with pressing their hands against the glass wall - no avail. They next tried to back up. Nope. One more attempt before they went monkey shit on the quartz cage - pressing their feet firmly against the bottom of the crystal, they stood up with a sudden force.

And out popped their head, breaking right through the top of the chrysalis. The sudden rush of fresh air was exhilarating and a smile broke their face at the feeling. They just kinda stood their for a moment, the only visible bit being their head peeking out of the top of the chrysalis, before they began to scramble to get out.

Hands clawed at the edge of the whole and wings shoved their way up as it forcefully pulled itself up and out of its chrysalis. It took a minute or two, but it at last tumbled right down the side of crystal and smacked flat on the ground. But this didn't seem to deter the young gembound from its curiosity as it was bouncing upright only a second later, eyes wide as it surveyed around. There were others - dino lookin things and a cat and a bird and...a thing. And another thing in a chair! That one was closer by so it stumbled forward, letting out a high pitched coo of delight as it waddled towards its father, reaching out to touch the long black cloak that looked reaaaally soft.

The cacophony of noise from the others hatching sputted the thing moving inside the argonite. Left aside, it had been quiet, until now.

The beast inside shifted, before headbutting into the stone. Their horn wasn't that sharp, and the stone was sturdy, so it took several more thumps before it finally gave way.

Head free, the little reptile thing blinked the chrysalis fluid out of its eyes, flicking its ears as it comes to attention. So much was happening. Things mulled about, and its eyes flicked between them all, as it struggled to pull itself out of the stoney cocoon.

She really didn't like how her back caught on the stone. Clawing her way free, she lets out a loud indignant "WAH."

The Collector swept carefully to his feet, setting his book aside. He made his way among the stones as they hatched--observing, stooping to lend an unnecessary hand here and there, offering smiles and mumured greetings ("Well hello there... Welcome to the world.") and so forth. One child went for his claws, and he was careful to extricate them without harm. "Ah-ah-ah, those are sharp," he warned.

Food was then offered out, the picnic gestured to, tea poured (and it was cool enough, now, to be safe to drink. What a careful father).

At last he slid back into his seat, crossing one leg atop the other, picking his own tea cup and sipping at it. Eyes gleamed with deep focus as he looked from one child to the next.

"Children. I am your creator, your father and your god, but don't worry. I'm not the overbearing sort. I thought perhaps you might like to join me in this mad, mad world; in a little game of 'nothing matters, so let us steal what happiness--and magic objects--we can.' It will be fun, I can assure you. The game goes like this..."

...It should be noted, here, that he was speaking as if to equals. He was not, by any means, trying to trick a group of children into thinking theft was a game. Instead, he genuinely, honestly, for once--for once--meant no harm. He sounded more like a thief pitching the ultimate heist to a group of specialists. And perhaps he was, though these specialists had yet to, err, specialize.

"...You find things, and you steal them. That's it, really. But I had thought we might work together; bring things back, sometimes, and we will share our spoils. At other times I will enchant these objects and trade them away for favors, so that our strange but happy little clan will want for nothing. Truly... we will be the happiest beings in the caves. Ahh-... You may call me The Collector. Or Father, if you wish." An expansive shrug showed just how generous an offer that was. "As for your own names... as I said, I am hardly overbearing. You may choose your own."

Of course, it remained to be seen how much the children could actually understand. He expected it would vary. But he waited, seeing with mild amusement to see whether he'd get coherent, well-thought-out responses or toddlers' babbles.

@Thief @Bulrush @Ruse @Xqbshcm @Owl @Hysteria