"You startled them," she said bluntly, "You burnt our eyes and it hurt. My blue is defensive of me, and Marshmallow is... weak. Easily frightened. Your magic came out more powerful than you'd expected."

Queen clasped her hands together and looked ahead, "... Perhaps to make friends you can try to show them that you meant well, that you didn't mean to hurt them. Make it up to them, perhaps by a gift or an act of some kind."

She reached over and took Boy's hand, and put her other atop Bee's head, "... I'd like that. Perhaps I said it the wrong way. You can be a partner in a way, too. But yes, I want to be friends for now, and I want to learn your name some day. When that day comes, you'll know mine too. We'll spread the word to the others. No name-sharing unless someone earns it. That can be something our group does."

Queen cooed in awe as the shadows lifted, and she drew away, putting her hands on her heart. She chittered curiously and reached out to touch, realizing that none of it was solid and it was just an illusion.

"... Impressive," she said softly, "I can't show you my magic without hurting you, but... perhaps I can."

She wiggled as the virus came to life, and she spit onto her fingers before reaching out, "I made a good sickness. It makes the bacteria and infections that try to get into your wounds die. It'll go away, though, or I can cleanse you."

@Matthieu

Matthieu listened to the Queen's words as he sat, fingers fumbling absentmindedly. They did blind them, yes. None of it was intentional. They just wanted to show off to their saviors, and the fusion ended up getting shouted at instead.

They regarded how she described them. They sounded weak. Not in an insulting manner: it was just the plain truth. Lots of attachment. Lots of fear. Why dawdle on such emotions? They were too engrossed in thought to react when the girl took their hand (and head), too focused on the neurons firing between them.

Such strange company they found themselves in. But then again, weren't they just as strange?

The coat of darkness slipped away, leaving them bare in the brilliant light of the Spire. Their jaws and mandibles opened. "I'd like that too. I will earn your name too but for now..." there came that smile-- "Just fake names."

Boy stretched his arms over his head and yawned. It had been a hectic first couple of days. Just then Arwen hunched over and spat out onto her hand before reaching it out to them. What was it? A sickness? They didn't see anything different about it. But Matthieu had to take her word for it-- it was magic, after all, and while theirs was very flashy hers may be subtle.

With a little hesitation Bee reached out a forelimb, dipped it in the spit (shivering slightly at the cold, nasty feel) and rubbed it into Boy's cuts. They didn't feel anything in particular past a slight chill and generally well feeling. The latter part was new. "... We assured you that we did not need help, yet you did anyway." another logical observation. Their voice was tinged with the slightest bit of confusion. "That was... nice. Maybe we'll do the same for you someday."

Boy stretched his arms out, looking at the wet wounds racing down his arms, now slowly being cleansed and healing. "My magic is very visible. It makes eyes and arms hurt. The rock--" Bee briefly looked up, the blue light glinting off her eyes-- "Is also very bright and painful. But your inner-spark is softer. Unseeing. Not-bright." He pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. "... Why?"

@Arwen

Queen just shrugged and played with her fingers, wiping them off on her side. The 'sickness' she gave Six Stripes would only last a few hours, as it would for herself. It wasn't anything special, just helping them out enough until the wound scabbed over.

"You don't have to. I like you, Six Stripes. You make me happy," she hummed.

Six Stripes meant nothing more than that, but they were growing on her, and she could easily admit it. They liked them like they'd liked Blue at first, but she was confident that they'd remain only a friend.

She cocked her head at Boy's statement, at his question. She clasped her hands together and hummed.

"Magic does different things. Sometimes you can control plants, or light. I've seen a Gembound make fire before, off in the distance. I just control the smaller creatures. Bacteria and viruses. Harmful or helpful. And I use them or make them into what I need, that's my magic," she said, "Subtle, but I did make a rabbit die because I infected them with a bacteria that caused brain bleeds."

Queen smiled cheerfully, "That was really cool."

@Matthieu

Hm. She liked them? Their presence gave her happiness? That was very nice of her to say (at least they assumed so), but as the amalgamation sat pondering they found they couldn't conjure the same emotions towards her. She did matter, of course, and they did call her their friend (it was only logical after she helped them so many times), but the "happy" part didn't come as easily. He was enthralled by magic, that made him happy, but gembounds only gave as much passion as a rock. They figured it was just another way the two of them were different.

And another curiosity: magic did different things, apparently. They were just used to their light and plants and the quiet, subtle magic of Arwen. Perhaps he'd see more instances of the different magics someday. Someday...

"Nice to know," Matthieu giggled. "Very, very nice." Boy clasped his hands together, mimicking how the grub had did it just earlier. "Brain bleeds," they cooed, "Sound veeeery fun. We wish we could do the same magic. Make all the bunnies scared." Another short, childish laugh.

A bit tired out from all the talking they've been doing, they leaned back (or forward, in the bee's case), planted his hands firmly on the floor, and looked up at the ceiling moss. It looked almost like stars, but they didn't know that. To them it was just shifting hues of blue and green and orange interspersed with twinkling lights. 'Beautiful.' Stargazing and brain aneurysms weren't topics typical children thought about at the same time, but for them they coexisted happily in their terrifying young brains.

"Look up. The roof is very pretty. We think we're going to... look at it for a bit. Think." he yawned, pointing a finger to the dazzling display above.

And just like that their childish, drifting conversation about magic and friends and world domination and illness slowly quieted. Just two-and-a-half young fairies on a boulder, the threatening crackle of the Spire mere background noise.

@Arwen lets goooo

Queen nodded enthusiastically at the statement about brain bleeds, "They are! I could go into the specifics of my bacteria and viruses and the symptoms and how they work- but then we'd be here all day and my companions would be worried."

She sighed gently and patted their shoulders, "I wish I could stay. I like talking to you. It's entertaining."

But she stood up (or rather, just sat straight) and held Boy's hand for a moment, "I have to leave now. Goodbye Six Stripes, I hope I'll see you later."

She chittered gently as she let go, turning away, the words she spoke that no one could understand being heard rather clearly by Bee.

"Everybody knows the plague is coming... everybody knows that it's moving past... everybody knows that life as we know it... is just a shining artifact of the past...", she chittered, singing a song that only she could really hear, with Bee having the rare privilege to understand.

It grew quieter as she left, until she couldn't be heard or seen. She was gone.

Exit.
@Mattheiu

Cave lights twinkling. How beautiful and peaceful. Matthieu could almost forget about the open wounds and burns their arms were littered in. They didn't move much when the grub patted their shoulders, only smiled when she took their hand, too entranced by it's twinkle to pay much attention. "Goodbye," They sang, sang to their one and only friend. Today wasn't such a bad day after all.

Bee watched from the corner of their eyes as Queen crept away, until she could no longer be seen anymore. Still they stayed, watching the ceiling stars, for nearly an hour. Thinking about the kind one they met, and the grumpy and screechy ones too. This life already proved so interesting, no?

Eventually they had to walk away too. Their stomach was getting rumbly, and those lesser bunnies hopping at their parent's feet looked de-lic-ious.

Exit Matthieu.