Bacchus visited the prison where his eldest daughter watched over her younger siblings' chrysalises. He did not visit often, per say, but neither were his visits infrequent. He had found a balance, over time, visiting more at the start to instill a sense of affection and dependence, then spacing out his visits gradually to longer but not too long.

Sometimes, he waited long enough for hunger to truly gnaw at the stomach, only to show up carrying large enough prey that she could gorge herself, if she dared. No doubt, she would learn to pace herself, especially with siblings soon to hatch. She was such a good girl, his lovely daughter.

It was unfortunate for her that Bacchus was nowhere near good, himself.

Today should be the day of hatching, and he arrived dragging a cave deer of some kind, particularly large prey. His newest children would be hungry upon waking, and they should have a good first impression of him.

@Shadow @Aleonis @Khemi @Staphylus @[Chishio's Child]

The apache tear, which had started off as merely a tiny shard, no bigger then a splinter, had swelled until it was a small boulder. Not too large, smooth and dark, speckled with imperfections. There wasn't movement inside, even if one could see past the utterly opaque surface of the obsidian crystal. The neonate slumbered, blissful, ignorant of all that happened outside its bubble. If it had a choice, it would continue to sleep, on and on and on, to never face anything but beautiful sleep and serenity.

Of course, this was the first of its many misfortunes, as the chrysalis decided, before it had even blinked open its eyes, that it was just about time to emerge.

It broke suddenly and all at once, depositing a groggy, still half-asleep, wet little bundle of gold fur and flailing paws onto the floor of the prison. Confusion was the first thing it felt, quickly swept away by a wave of fear as the chill of the air quickly began to penetrate its slick, drenched fur. Its eyes blinked open, but that wasn't helpful. It was dark in here, so that gave no useful sensory input at the moment.

It squeaked, trying to right itself, but without a visual, and with its brain still struggling to wake itself up, it couldn't tell up from down, and ended up just squirming on the floor, helpless, confused, and scared.

The vaguely catlike shaped creature hatches mere moments after the first. Funnily enough, this one appears to be almost the opposite of its orange sibling. Near-black in shade, with some differing colors throughout. Missing the noteable black spotting of a typical leopard.

Most noticeable, a pair of dark, crow wings on it's shoulders. They flutter lightly as the small hybrid gains wakefulness. Not capable of flight just yet, but the ability will come with time.

Wide eyes watch the 'strangers'.

First is the one borne of the stone fragment from Anubis, cracking and breaking through the chrysalis. As he picks the child up within his jaws, Bacchus can tell this child's shape is a beautiful blend between both Anubis and his own form.

He loves this child to an absurd degree. A stray thought acknowledges, it would be so easy to bite down, he thinks, to harm this child so it could never even think of leaving him. He considers it, and then he hears the another crack.

Bacchus let's go of the impulse, putting the child down closer to the voidlight but not too close to the garden. He licks the child's fur with his rough tongue, cleaning off some chrysalis fluid. "Wait here, little one. I will be back soon with your sibling," he assures the child.

Moving through the darkness, he finds the next child with ease enough, picking it up. The form, he thinks, is remarkably like his. They move together towards voidlight, and the second child is deposited next to the first.

He lays down. "I am here, little ones. I am your father, your parent. I have been awaiting your arrival," his voice is its usual pleased rumble, but affection spills out as he looks at their perfect forms.

The second one has wings, and he wants to break one. Not yet, though. Right as the child learns the delight of flight, yet before the child can fly away from him. He may, one day. Or he may not.

He wants to keep his perfect family together. Not safe, not sound, but his and here. What matters to him.

Bacchus cleans each child thoroughly of chrysalis fluid, his rough tongue as gentle as it can be.

@Khemi @Yoru

There had been nothing for a long while. Nothing but the quiet gurgle of the Turquoise's shifting interior, the developing tissue not yet complex enough to comprehend the walls pressing closer and closer.

But as soon as he knew, he wanted out.

His horns scraped against the walls first, before the head behind them pushed forward as hard as it could, new muscles straining with the effort. It crumbled, sending the kid toppling out onto the earth, immediately unused to suspending his body's weight.

He bleated miserably on impact, as if yelling at the ground would make it hurt less.

The first chrysalis that had been placed, the one of red pearl, hatched last of all. This child's entry into the world was no momentous fight, as it had been for the sibling just before it. There was no struggle, not yet, simply the chrysalis falling into pieces and a little life left in the cold, for now.

He was an awkward shape, this child. Meant to be bipedal, yet otherwise entirely a jackal. And there was a weight to his ankle that he would need to grow used to, the physical shackle of his red pearl stone.

For now, he crawled on fours towards the sound of his nearest sibling, whining softly yet hopefully as he tried to identify the location of his bleating sibling in this darkness. It was an strange form of movement, not meant for this body, but it was all he could yet manage.

Hunger rumbled from within, already.

But the child cared more about finding family than sating that hunger. Loneliness scared the child more than starvation.

@Bacchus

Another cracking was followed by a distressed bleat. It fed Bacchus, hearing that distress. He gently separated himself from the two cubs he was curled next to, as another crack sounded out. This one whined, but it was not distressed. Not yet.

"I must fetch your siblings, my other children, little ones. I will return quickly," he reassured them in his rumbling purr of a voice.

The little vampire-jackal was crawling, he noticed, taking more initiative than the other children, in a way. Crawling towards its closely hatched sibling, at that, not the smell of the lesser deer corpse near the entrance of the garden where Bacchus had been by.

A very socially motivated child, perhaps. That would be all the more interesting if it had kept the diet that was in its lineage.

"My child, can you follow me? I believe your sibling is having trouble with movement, and I cannot carry the both of you," he informed the vampire-jackal. Then he moved towards the bleating one.

"Hello there, dear one, I'm going to pick you up, bring you to your siblings, alright? It will be warm there, with them," he told the child truthfully.

Then, Bacchus gently picked up the bleating child in his mouth, carrying it as he would a leopard cub. Except none of his children that mattered were very leopard-like at all, each with their unique attributes. He preferred it that. It kept him from remembering his true eldest, the son that had left.

One day, he would find and punish Omadios for daring to leave him.

This day, however, was a day of beginnings. Not necessarily good beginnings, by any standard, yet beginnings all the same.

He walked slowly, allowing the vampire-jackal to keep pace if it desired to.

Then, he deposited the turquoise child beside the other two, leaving a spot for the vampire-jackal to come close.

"My children... My little beloveds..." Bacchus was genuinely awed to study them all in the voidlight. "You do not have to talk yet, if you're not ready. I brought meat for you to feed on, since I eat meat, but next visit, I can bring plants, if you prefer to try that instead of meat. However, do not try to eat the plants in our garden. They will defend themselves from you, often quite harshly. I cannot keep you safe if you try."

He considered, what else to say. "Shadow, your older sister, is here, somewhere. She will join us soon, I'm sure. I am your father. I love you all, my children."

He nudged the not-quite-leopard, the child of him and Anubis. "You have been gifted a name already. Your name is Khemi, dear one. The rest of you may choose names at your own pace."

He returned to cleaning them all of their own chrysalis fluid, awaiting to hear their voices eagerly, yet not necessarily expecting such yet from them.

@Aleonis @Staphylus @Shadow @Khemi @Yoru

Shadow wasn't too far off. She was approaching that age where she would be too young yet to be called an adult, but too old to be a "puppy." Not quite there yet, though. Still small, runty, rangy, over-thin. She relied on Bacchus for food, and he delivered, but it wasn't the same as roaming, hunting, and keeping herself well-fed. Her father had had troubles finding her food, he'd explained. It was just the way of things. Sometimes a hunt was easy. Sometimes, it was not.

Her fur was thin, too, and scruffy, and she had a haunted or perhaps haunting presence--like some shy little ghost--as she crept forward from the dark. She could hear her dad's voice... but who was he talking to? He was near the stones, the ones she'd been checking on, fussing over, though up until now they'd been only rocks.

She let a silvery light overtake her, as was her custom, to show her the ground in front of her paws and to announce her approach.

"Dad?" she called out, soft, as if afraid to break what was no longer even silence. Pale eyes shot to the chrysalises--broken?

...Was it time, then?

image credit

True light came, followed by a soft, familiar voice. Bacchus's rumbling purr of a voice broadcasted louder to call his beloved daughter over, "Dear heart, your younger siblings have hatched."

"That's your older sister, Shadow," he told the four newly-hatched children at his side, more quietly. "I am certain she will love you all."

Then he raised his voice a bit again for Shadow to hear. "Daughter of mine, come meet your younger siblings. You will be a guide for them in this darkness," he told his eldest daughter.

"There is food here, as well. I managed a large catch, just in time for their hatching. You are welcome to share with them, of course, there's more than enough, this time."

He paused. "I am hoping they eat meat, but some of them have traits of prey, so I may need to bring plants from the outside, next time. One of them might solely drink blood, his original stone shard came from an odd source."

"Come, love, and bring your light over. Let us see the children in the light," he encouraged further.

@Shadow

Despite the loudness of his cries, it hadn't occurred to the kid that they'd be answered so quickly. He had little time to register a complaint as he was lifted by the scruff, his body hanging limp with kitten instinct, a kick of a back leg the only indication of any rebellious intent.

Now deposited, he shook himself of the lethargic sensation that'd overtook him. There where two others, a third crawling slowly to take his seat. His head swung with the added weight of his stone as he observed, exaggerating what'd be a subtle movement otherwise.

The large one (his father, he understood) addressed them all with words that meant very little to Staphylus. Affection, warnings, and talk of food he could already smell, thanks.

His lips cracked open, tongue stirring awake in his mouth- behold! His first words! "Why does he getta name?"

@Bacchus @Khemi [mentioned]