Akaari is searching for more information about the city and a creature from her previous visions, anyone is free to join in at any time if they wanna thread with her or ask questions

Why can't I turn off that record? Image after image flickers through her mind's eye, every time she closes them there's the rattle of a chain, the flash of passing green eyes, scrolling etchings on a pillar, a voice behind her, a school of purple fish, green eyes, green writing, towers, water, buildings. She comes alive again with a gasp each time as if her body had forgotten how to breath. Now, it was not that those visions, the touch of those objects, the feeling of the chain in her mouth (that chain now stashed away in a worn down building in Orion) were inherently bad, it was not that which was giving her waking nightmares and sleepless nights. It was that sense of there being something out there, something to know, something that she was grasping out for that her hands would slip around only for it to turn to fog and dance away from her. Who are you, sweet creature, and why do you haunt my mind? I don't know whether I love you or hate you.

There are moments and objects one thinks are unimportant as they pass them day by day, that is what happens when the growing leopard wanders between Orion and Polaris (a familiar trip for she rarely leaves the two caves, not until she learns all their secrets). She keeps her eyes ahead, lockes on the glowing opening of Polaris or the tempting lights of Orion as she traverses the tunnel, not once yet had she paid actual attention to the tunnel walls.

That was about to change.

Perhaps, one day, she will have to go through the caves in an alphabetical order, learn the whispers and murmurs of the walls and plants, talk to the creatures that called the places their home and see what she could find out. For now she was quite happy to just stumble across things - mostly because she was yet to come up with a plan and couldn't be bothered to yet whilst she had more important tasks to accomplish.

She was about to walk out of Orion, take her usual steps through the tunnel that lead to Polaris, when out of the corner of her eyes she noticed a pillar. No, not one pillar, but two, either side of the Orion entrance. Engravings on them as she peered closer, scratches in the pillar surfaces that looked all too familiar. Had she seen these before? But where? She was sure they looked familiar, something banging its fist on her mind and telling her to pay closer attention.

"Best things come when you take your time." As she spoke those words the girl - no longer a cub but neither was she an adult - rose up onto her hind paws and pressed her forepaws against the left (as you face the entrance) pillar and followed it with her head so that her forehead was also pressing against the engravings on the pillar. She could feel the stretching of her muscles, the twitching of skin as she stretched, her body had healed itself in the chrysalis but her entire form still remembered almost dying. Her magic reached out as she touched the pillar, begging it to release its secrets to her.

As cool stone pressed to fur, magic flared and vision flickered.

The stone was no longer worn, around her: faintly pitted with age or sanded down by the wind of centuries. Instead, it was fresh, bright; and before her was a strange creature.

Slimy, spined, blue-skinned; and around it were others, some alike, some unalike, vague in the brief image. They held chisels, and hammers, and small brushes: they carved out the images in the very stone Akaari touched, honing them, perfecting them. Behind them crowed a voice: deafening, deep, ringing across the stone with a growl that promised death, a sound that even through the ages pierced Akaari's very being:

"FASTER! YOU, THERE--WHAT IS THAT?"

If she turned, she would see it: large, hulking, the flash of a silhoutte and violet fur; and then it was gone.

She was here; she was alone, alone with the worn-down stone and the near-silent hiss of air across the rock.

@Akaari

Getting used to the sensation of being elsewhere, her mind somewhere her body wasn't, was probably an overstatement. Don't get her wrong, it was intriguing and awesome and magical and well, all things just cool but it was sure as hell trippy. Sometimes, when her magic was being particularly nice to her, she felt as if she was actually in the scene and not just a spectator, those ones were extra strange and scary and made her feel all sorts of things even when the vision faded. She often wanted to adumbrate what she saw to others, other times she didn't want to let them in on her hard earned efforts and secrets. Secrets were secret for a reason, and Archi said that there was a time and place to give them up.

Even though she was ready for a vision to hit her, come into view and let her see into the past, it still surprised her when she went from feeling the hard stone and etchings under her paws and forehead to seeing a creature that was not there mere seconds before, and looking at a fresh pillar. Both the one she was leaning on and not, far too new, fresh, perfect. She watched with fascination as these creatures held tools against it, the etchings slowly being formed in the pillar, she had no idea what those tools were but they seemed effective. They had handles though, which was a bit difficult when she didn't have hands. She wanted to get a closer look at the tools: could she use one, how did they work, where did they find them, could she make one for herself?

Her stomach almost rose into her throat and she felt as if her heart had stopped beating. That voice rang through her, broke any sort of control and confidence she thought she had, the idea that this was the past and the voice couldn't get to her didn't even cross her mind. It could order her death and she would be powerless against it. But what was that? She only caught the shadow of it as she turned, large, violet, and it was obviously not supposed to be there. That was something they had in common. The voice that made all her bones quake were forgotten as she focused on that lost shadow. Until it was no more.

No more. Alone. No clanking of hammer against stone, no rhythmic pattern of steps as creatures moved around the pillar, no voice demanding more speed, there was no one else. No shadow. No silhouette. Just her breath in the quiet, seeming far too loud and obnoxious now. "I need to know who you are, please." It was a quiet plea to the pillar she was still leaning against, but even her voice sounded wrong in the darkness of the tunnel. Her heart ached and her mind demanded more, so many creatures were there, even if it was against their will, and the secret and mystery that flashing silhouette held was more than she would ever hold.

All of that made her realise just how alone she was. In a tunnel. Her only friend was the cave's past.

With a shaking breath she took a step away from the pillar, her paws hitting the ground with a thud that was far too loud to her ears. She cast her eyes frantically around and took quick steps to the adjacent pillar, rubbing her side against it as she let her magic reach out again. She needed to know if this one would tell her more, would tell her where that creature went, and why it wasn't with the other weird, slimy guy. Who was that guy too. She didn't know anyone blue, or slimy, nor did she know anyone violet and furry. So many things she had to know.

One of them--the small, alien things--threw his chisel at the other.

There was angered chattering.

The chisel was thrown back.

Body threw itself against body, and a scuffle broke out, the chittering turning into yowling of anger in some unknown tongue.

"GET BACK TO WORK!" came a bellow, and a large figure swept across her vision, clawed arms pulling one creature from the other, tossing it harshly away.

The vision faded.

@Akaari

Something was happening. Something had gone wrong? No, someone had done something bad (like that dumb kitten who was sick in front of her, that was disgusting). Those strange tools that made shapes were being thrown. Creatures were jumping at each other. Did one get insulted? She got angry when people insulted her. She had no control over the vision yet she still tried to mentally lean closer, of course there was no change, even if she could whatever they were saying would still make no sense. They were saying words she had never heard before. Why didn't she know those words, she thought she was pretty good at speaking, not great, but she at least knew what others were talking about when they said big words. This was different. She didn't like that. Was it better than the silence she was sure to be pushed back to as soon as the scene ended? Well, she wasn't sure yet.

Then the shout. She didn't like that either. Was it shouting at her? She wasn't supposed to be there. Watching. Listening. A spy. It's fine, it wasn't at her, it threw the two fighting creatures away from each other before she was banished back to the quiet. "You get back to work, meanie!" Said just to fill the silence perhaps, head reaching back to stare upwards (There's nothing up there, there's no wings, no hungry teeth, no darkness, no bats no bats no bats) as her side remained leaning against the twin pillar, trying to blink through the scene. There was the double the amount of lights up there. She hadn't noticed that before. Focus, focus, what's going on, who were they, what was happening? Still too young to notice the worn down floor and double lights meant that this was an important tunnel. Too young to think through who it was important for. Too young to notice that if they were building something, if someone was watching over them then something momentous was being constructed here. Yet, here she was, some time later (how much was a big question) in that very same tunnel feeling as if everything was normal. Having known nothing else. There was nothing important about a tunnel that led from one place to another.

Think later, discover now. Think later, discover now.

A repeated mantra was on loop in her head as she moved slowly, hesitantly, away from the pillars and went looking for the next doorway to the past. Or to the Other. Her mind felt heavy and legs were stiff, her muscles ached and she just wanted to sleep, sleep would be good but then she'd dream. She'd hear the rustling first. Focus. Then she'd see the swam. Focus. She'd feel their claws before-- Focus!.

Alone. Quiet. Her breath was no substitute for the voices that spoke in a tongue she didn't know nor was it a replacement for the shouts of their master. Alone. Not even a wisp wanted to join her on her journey. Quiet. She was not even allowed the comforting light it would give as some semblance to being near another. Alone. She had to keep walking. Quiet. Keep searching for what was next.

As she does with everything the girl stored that vision alongside the previous one to be picked apart later, the two sheets of paper placed delicately away so that she may bring them out again and pour over their secrets, compare with what she knows (oh so little).

She walked slowly down the familiar tunnel before noticing something on the walls. Too lost in her own head. What happened to focus? Weird shapes, why had she not seen them before, littered the wall with scribbles above and below them. How had they got there? What did it mean? Think later, discover now. She shook her head, pushing away all thoughts, and rose to press her paws against the scribbles below the weird shapes first, trying to make sure that she only touched the words rather than the depicted scene, and reached out to her magic that was feeling more and more natural. The shapes would come next. She hoped. Was this done by the same alien things that spoke in a way she had never heard before, did the silhouette have something to do with it, what about that overseer who seemed to enjoy shouting? Think later, discover now.

The magic Akaari held seemed to, over and over, display images from the past.

It did not, however, at any point decipher what those images meant. They were glimpses, visions; they did not provide understanding and perhaps that was the curse of the clairvoyant and the seers-of-the-past in turn: meaning had to be gleaned, assumed, on its own.

She saw, now, a gathering of creatures, clustered around the carvings as she was now: a large, sleek, orange-and-black patterned bird; a smaller, red-and-black bird; a black leopard; a black-and-brown dog; a fox; a fawn; a bird; lions... It was unclear if they were all there together, or if the image was jittering, short periods of time passing. But gradually the carvings were becoming visible from... nothing, and the strangers watched it happen.

The black cat turned to the orange-and-black, large bird. "It's okay, Azazel. We all mess up. You're not that bad, really..."

@Akaari