Deep in the thick of The Black City's depths, among the clusters of coral and alien Lessers, a chrysalis was hatching. The edges of the turquoise-and-black gemstone were illuminated by the faintest glow: a nearby obelisk, its glyphs pointing to something or other--serving, as it was, as a signpost.

The creature within wouldn't be able to read these glyphs, or any other. He was a child, only barely awakening, his coiled form within the relatively diminuitive gemstone becoming gradually aware of the pressure that contained it. He was squirming, coming awake, uncomfortable. And the thinning shell of the stone was about to allow him escape.

An eel-like jaw began to open and close, a light flickering up and remaining constant in his four eyes. Rainbow colors began to ripple along his flanks: dim at first, but growing in intensity as the child fully woke at last.

His little clawed feet, almost paddle-like fins, pressed to the thin shell and a crackle of frost seized them. He jerked back, the sudden pain startling, but his instinctive magic had done its job: the front of the gemstone shell cracked and then fell away, opening a window into the ocean beyond.

Within, the child remained coiled for a moment, shrinking back from the sudden unknown. A fresh consciousness tried to come to grips with existing.

"Hello?" he tried, the word the first thing to come to mind--but it was gargled through with water, incomprehensible, a sound lost to a muffling crush of pressure and the current of the sea.

It's been some time since Siren has properly gone out exploring. The Drone tends to always be more focused on its family - the Hive - and sending good emotions down their shared link. Much alike the new hatchling nearby, Siren cannot read any of the glyphs within the Black City. Or see them at all.

Siren makes clicking sounds, dodging various buildings and towers as it moves through the depths. Not needing sight is good for it, getting accurate outlines of everything around it even better. The pitch black of the depths feels at home for the Drone, even though it can only rely on senses to tell the brightness in the area.

When the serpent hatches, Siren being unable to see the flashing lights is an advantage. Only when it gets close enough does it sense the outline of the creature and come to a stop. When he speaks, Siren begins to approach. It does not need to infect this one, even if Siren feels the need to bring everything to Mother's side.

Siren doesn't quite understand what the little thing said, but it can tell he just hatched. How cute.

"Hello little one." Siren tries to say, but its words also may just be eaten by the sea.

@Undertow
(i rolled on accident lol ignore that)

His eyes took note of a pale shape approaching, only in the briefest glimpse of light from his own spots. Moreso, his senses caught the faint electrical field in motion, much like a shark's senses might. This frightened the baby serpent. Something larger approaching in the dark meant danger, to his senses, and he coiled back in his cracked-open chrysalis... until it spoke.

It was hard to understand, but... he thought it was a greeting.

The stranger made no effort to harm him, to dart forward and scoop him out and eat him or... whatever else a predator might do, so Undertow relaxed a little. He stared upward, trying to get some idea of how big this stranger was, and their general shape and appearance, past the faint glimmer of his lights. "Hello," he offered, repeating his first word for the second time.

Fins rippled as he found some courage, his little form (only a couple feet long) uncoiling from the broken stone and rising up to peer at Siren. "'m Under... tow," he managed. An introduction, and though his words were a gurgle comprehensible to other undersea beasts, his words would've been lost to surface-dwellers as a murmur of sound in water.

@Siren

Siren waits for the small thing to come out of his hiding place, careful to not make any sudden movements. If Siren could see the glowy bits, it would call Undertow cute. Alas, all it has to go off of is the slender shape of the creature. A little guy with many fins - Siren really wants to infect this one. It does not, though - the act would potentially bring suspicion from the other deep-sea gembound. Siren would rather not its favorite place become off-limits.

"I am Siren." It wants to brag about being one of Mothers' Drones, the little thing wouldn't understand. It would be mostly safe, but Siren would rather be completely safe.

Plus, Undertow could potentially tell other gembound if she went to infect a place.

"Do you have a family, little one?" No one else was here to view Undertow's hatching, so most likely not. Black City would be a nice place to hatch for something so small though. Lots of places to hide and grow.

@Undertow

Undertow did not answer, for a moment. He shrank away a little, but it wasn't out of fear; he was just thinking, coiling in a little on himself to consider the meaning of Siren's words.

Family. It echoed meanings into his mind: warmth and conversation, protection and camaraderie. But--no, he'd just hatched; how could he have those things? Puzzled, he shook an eel-like head, his eyes briefly squeezing shut for the gesture. "No?" he half-guessed, unsure. Should he have a family? Faint misgiving struck him. Was something wrong? Was he missing a family?! "Is there... family?" he asked. Was it somewhere else? Did he have to find it?

Curiosity was getting the better of him, either way, and he squeezed fully out into the open waters. It was cold, the currents here quieter than above yet still strong enough compared to the chrysalis that he had to suddenly learn to stabilize himself against them. His body rippled, fins working frantically for a moment before he got the hang of it: it was like jumping out of a nest and learning to fly.

"Siren?" he repeated, belatedly, turning to find the strange silhouette against the darkness. He noted the difference between their forms: Siren was tall, broad, and large. There were many tail-bits, whereas Undertow was one long noodle with a few little fin-like feet. He didn't know what that meant, if anything, but he took note of it nonetheless: We are shaped different. Maybe everybody was different.

He looked around, too, and saw that everything was mostly dark. Water, some flowing sea plants, a distant glowing glyph. But he didn't know what any of it was, what any of it meant: it was all new to him, and he just gazed around wide-eyed for now.

@Siren