Soh-ling had absolutely no knowledge of Scorpio, and it wouldn't have been interested even if it had been told. No, it was simply drawn to the sudden influx of gembound suddenly invading Fornax. Soh-ling didn't have much interest in the surface, but it was impossible to deny that was where most of the action tended to be. So, loathingly, it had dragged itself out of the sea and slunk into one of the more appealing tunnels.

Soh-ling is a creature of the abyssal depths, so it had absolutely no issue with the dark. In fact, it was at home in it. It hoped, that as they descended, the darkness and water would both grow to drown them all. It would delight in the expansion of its domain, and the unfortunate and unworthy who would succumb to it.

The creature sculked in the back of the crowd, having absolutely no interest in socializing. Instead it watched the others, its gazing moving methodically through the crowd. A couple gembound in particular seemed to hold its interest- the Triage, Hrimfaxi, and Titivilus. Although for the last one, maybe it was simply just annoyed that it was hogging up all the space.

Hecate followed the group. She hadn't really known what was going on, at first, but the gathering of Gembounds had caught her interest, and she could hardly miss out on something interesting. Something that might prove worthy gossip, later (not that Hecate had any friends with whom to share such things).

Her eyes, as always, were half-blinded by her stone--but her owl's hearing was sharp as ever. She followed the group in, forced to land by the narrow quarters (or fly off ahead, which was WAY too dangerous a choice for her). Her talons clicked on the floor, her immense owl form graceful as she folded her wings. But her empty gaze was filled with consternation as she looked this way and that, the rustling sharp to her owl's ears.

"Something's in the bushes," she stated, which was the obvious. No doubt everyone could hear that; her hearing wasn't that special.

Satisfied that she'd served some grand purpose, she summoned up a wisp, and tried to send it toward the nearest rustling to ensure none of them were taken by surprise.

It was an odd thing that shot from the rustling shadows: nothing particularly sinister. A few dozen tiny, fluttering shapes, fleeing out of the bushes as the passing group disturbed them. They flew around the Gembounds' heads and then fled, harmless, just...

...Moths?

Ah.

Dust Moths.

Those who'd been paying close attention would be able to easily dodge the drifting dust. No big deal, no real danger. Those who had slightly worse reflexes... unless someone knocked them out of the way of the threat, they'd get a lungful. Or two. Or more.

And then came the hallucinations, which would linger for the rest of the dungeon... happy visions of the other creatures here winking, making eyes, dancing past and blowing bubbles, breaking into a waltz--how strange.

But really, there was little more stopping the group from pressing ahead: forward, over crumbled stone and past tangling vines, to a gap that led into a shadowed place beyond.

---

A nest of Dust Moths has been disturbed. Characters should post the results of the dust, and them pressing forward into the next room.

Those who succeeded (barely+) in their rolls may avoid the Dust entirely. They may also choose to aid anyone who failed. (Players can, for fun, choose to have even successful rolls get a bit of a sniff... if they want to.)

Those who failed their rolls, and are not given help, will inhale the dust and have vague hallucinations, the rest of the dungeon, though they aren't sinister in nature. If anything, the hallucinations from this strain of moth are strangely pleasant, and often involve them hallucinating other characters flirting with them (or one another), or singing, dancing, etc. These hallucinations will last until thread's end.

Those who critically failed cannot be aided, and will get a particularly potent dose of Dust, with stronger and more frequent hallucinations for the duration of the thread.

This quest is now closed to new entrants. The next post will take place in four days, on June 11th, afternoon/evening GMT.

@Nebula @Richter @Vestyge @Survivor @Triage @Yvan @Ryoto @Hrimfaxi @Titivilus @Soh-Ling @Hecate

Vestyge paid the stares shot his way no mind. He had a job to do, and he knew some Gembound judged him for merely being built to do it-

What is that?

His plates creaked and clicked as he turned to stare at the massive, rectangular hunk of animal squeezing itself through the tunnel. A brief flash of fear traveled through his spine. Was it going to trap them in here? It was massive, and surely it wouldn't be able to fit forever.

As Vestyge stared at The Train's beautiful shape, there was the soft sound of tiny wings above. He paid them no mind, until his next breath found dust entering his lungs. He began to cough up the dry powder, the noise loud, wet and ugly. It was then that he actually looked up to see the source-

Dust moths. Oh boy.

Y'know, maybe it'd be fine. Maybe he was immune to hallucinogens too. Vestyge pressed onward, refusing to let the dread in his Oilstone stomach creep further outward.

His head snapped toward where Triage and Hrimfaxi were giggling with glee, happy to be in each-other's presence, their joy rolling of their bodies in waves of beautiful iridescence. "Can you two get a room?" Vestyge hissed. He'd just been drugged by insects. He didn't need to listen to whatever they were so happy about too.

@Triage @Hrimfaxi (interaction tag. He's being homophobic on pride month somebody KILL this guy)

He continued forward, lifting his nose up to the sky as he sniffed for a moment, following behind the much larger creature that decided to take point. He was fine with that, content to let someone more experienced take over leading. He sure as well wasn't a leader, he'd probably lead them all into.... oh were those moths?

He noticed them pretty quickly and did a few quick bounces to get out of the way. He had tried to use his magic to make himself all that faster, to get clear before there was even a hint of danger, but alas he was too focused on everything around them to be able to concentrate. He wasn't as fast as he wanted to be, but he still was able to get out of the way of the dust, standing at the doorway as he watched the moths for a moment before turning to follow the leading creature into the next area. Well that was fun.

@Vestyge for mention

Buckley turned and almost jumped out of his skin as someone trotted up to them and the feeling of cold immediately touched their skin just from the proximity. Gore hissed a warning and Ishani's attention turned to the newcomer, suspicious. But they were being friendly and that was the key to the lion's heart, who immediately lit up at the horse's friendliness. "Hi! Fraxi! I'm Buckley." He didn't introduce the two others - perhaps he should, but it didn't immediately cross his mind. That was okay, they had it covered - "And also GORE." "Ishani." There, everybody introduced.

At the question, "Want to be friends?", there was a collective answer, three at the same time - "Sure!" "NO!!" "Maybe."The three heads turned and glared at each other briefly. "Don't listen to Gore, it's mean. I'M nice, though!" "SHUT UP. We don't want to be FRIENDS!!" "We are a chimera," Ishani decided to actually answer the horse's question, evenly, neutrally. "You can be friends with Buckley."

Gore groaned as the lion lit up. "See! We can be friends!" That seemed to settle that, as the goat-head turned away with a growl and Buckley looked ready to bounce around and play with the horse-thing, but then...they were all advancing into the dungeon and he realized a moment late. "Oh, we should keep up! Come on, Fraxi!" And he stumbled to chase after, only to go careening right into the flutter of moths.

Buckley yelped with surprise and tried to stumble back, but it was too late. Gore and Buckley, especially, got a direct dose of the dust, sneezing and coughing. Things were beginning to feel funny.

In the interim, though, Gore caught the sound of someone hissing at them, and its head snapped to glare at Vestyge. For some reason, that had pissed it off. Pretty bad. Hrimfaxi and Buckley were annoying it, sure, it didn't particularly want to be friends with anyone, but the comment had been thrown at them. The Triage. So that might as well have been an insult directly aimed at the goat's head. From what it could see and hear, Vestyge was laughing at them, doing a strange little dance that was insulting, mocking. It ground its predatory teeth and barked, "Can you GET A LIFE?!" As it clacked its jaws, a small, concentrated wave of force burst from its head towards Vestyge - nothing that would do real damage, mind, but would shove it away. Annoy it. Like a pissy teenager getting back at someone with a dumb little shove. Serves him right!

"Buckley is speaking!" "GORE IS SPEAKING!!!" "Ishani is speaking..."

@Hrimfaxi @Vestyge

The arrival of more Gembounds was a minor distraction for Richter, his ears focused on parsing movement within the foliage. That didn't mean at all that their presence was an unwelcome one. Had his concerns not been placed into figuring out what lay ahead of him, certainly each new individual would've found themselves at some point being hopped toward and asked a flurry of questions concerning their unique anatomies. Thankfully, any cagier members of the party were spared this interrogation due to his current preoccupation and received only a friendly wave of the paw and nod of acknowledgement.

Vestyge's quiet slip into position at the front of the group didn't go unnoticed amidst his staring into the darkness. Neither did it draw any comment from him, the decision of who should take the lead one outside of his interest. So long as everyone played nice and didn't hurt their fellows, all was well. He'd much rather get down to the business of exploring this here dungeon than pull apart a brawl.

"Say," he remarked with an internal frown as the rustling intensified. "Do any of you also see—"

Before the question could be finished, the barely perceptible shadows he saw flitting amongst the leaves abandoned their refuge. Fluttering moth wings brought up Richter's paws to shield his ears, the thought of any of the fleeing insects accidentally flying into them during their panic an unpleasant prospect. Incapable of easy retreat, ducking and weaving was his best defense against allowing the dust left in their wake to settle upon him. Fortunately, those movements happened to be ones that came naturally to him.

Others weren't as swift or observant. Hisses and yells broke out amongst the crowd, and Richter found himself springing around to discover conflict brewing in the ranks courtesy of the moths' parting gift. He rushed over to the closest yet to be touched by the hallucinogenic cloud, a cheerful face he recognized from the tavern. Claws outstretched for a gentle sideways push to guide the frozen horse out of the way.

"Suh—sorry for the suddenness and all. Didn't want you to end up like your pal there." At least he assumed that was their relationship with the three fellows in one based off the chatter he'd heard in the background. He hoped the bickering the self-anointed leader was engaging in with the aforementioned didn't escalate into anything worse. "You, uh, didn't breath anything in. Right?"

@Hrimfaxi

In only a few moments of adjustment, the train is able to spot them: the ghastly, ever so slightly coruscating wisps of the light. Dust moths. Whether or not the train knows about what these are or what these do does not really matter. Most of the other Gembound seem to be dodgy of the encroaching particles, and this is likely what the train would... try to respond to. Angling its massive body in an already cramped tunnel just to avoid oncoming puffball traffic is as difficult a task as it seems. Almost as if by dumb luck, the train just barely manages to miss every single one.

Something about its slight adjustments to its angle as it travels suggest the possibility an even greater purpose. The poor, giant serpentine entity (Soh-ling) behind the train becomes all but entirely body-blocked for a while, at least until the dust moths fully pass. Whether we can say this is on purpose or not would require tools we do not yet have access to.

Beyond this point, the train's flesh puppet head remains as popped out as it can be, still searching for more signs of trouble (without taking much obvious notice of the altercation breaking out amidst some of the others)... or perhaps, for more something more auspicious than that?

(OOC: The train is helping Soh-ling avoid the dust months! @Soh-ling for visibility. The train would also like to keep its eyes peelt since it can't really do much else.)

Ryoto's rock is charming enough to make Yvan smile. Squeezing her hand, he holds her close, giving her one last glance before turning to watch the others.

They're crowded forward by, of course, a train.

Yvan doesn't like this. He doesn't like the weird boxy thing one bit, because it's too big and only dragons should be that big; best to move on and get the hell away from it. Ryoto's question is nearly missed as he tightens up and hurries forward with her, huffing with bared teeth.

"More people than I thought there'd be," he mutters under his breath towards her. In his rush, he's moving too much for any particular moth to linger— it's a good thing since he doesn't want to be around the moths either. He came here for the adventure, not the people..! But there's safety in numbers, so he treks along with Ryoto close-ish, enough that he won't be caught off guard but not totally separate from the group.

If only there wasn't going to be treasure..!

@Ryoto

[oh, i love you!]

In the defense of Yvan, Ryoto also isn't particularly fond of the train; not because of how large it is, but just how odd it is. It doesn't move by perceptibly natural means, and that coupled with the uncertainty of whatever altercation is brewing ahead makes the flock of moths a rather minor infraction against her anxieties about being around so many people.

"They're very loud," the Ryoto mutters in the undercurrent of someone continuing to shout, and moving to fling another aside or something— Oh, dear— "Um, m'not peacekeeping for them..."

Which, brings her to a better idea: Squeezing Yvan's hand with a small chirp for attention, and then gently tugging him forward with a small jerk of the head. "We could get in front..? Don' have t'hear or see them. Or squeeze past later..."

It does mean leading the group just by way of being in the front of the line, just a little bit, but... with a little wind beneath her paws and Yvan hurrying, they can at least get past and not worry so much about missing something ahead.. ?

@Yvan (for visibility.)