A far corner of the caves, sparsely traveled, between two caves sparsely populated. Away from those places gembounds tended to gather, where the air could not decide if it was burning hot or freezing cold. It was quiet, always so quiet here, save for the wind as the temperature fronts met.

But...wait...

What is that...

ᖶDᕼᘿᗩ ᓰS ᗩ ᒪᘿI, Eᖶᕼ ᕵᘉᓰᗩ ᓰS ᘿᘉEᖶᒪᖇA

Whispering. Echoing.

↻ąղ վօմ հҽąɾ ʍҽ?

Can you hear it?


ᕼRє Sᒪᕼᖴє Sᓰ ᘿWᗩᖽᐸ. ᗩᖇєᖶ єᖶᕼ ᕼᖴSᘿᒪ ᖴᓍᘻᖇ єᕼᖶ ᓍᗷᘿᘉ.


It continues. Over and over, whispering. Murmuring.

Ꭰටហ'Ͳ ꝈƐȺỼƐ ⱮƐ ȺꝈටហƐ

Begging.


ᖶєᕼ ᖴᕼᒪᘿS ᓰS ᗩWєᖽᐸ. ᖶᕼᘿ ᓰᕵNᗩ ᓰS єᖶᖇᘿᘉᗩᒪ

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

Callista had just kind of been in Leo, checking out the Underforge for possible magic items that had been left behind (maybe she should ask the Blacksmith for something? She wasn't going to steal from him though she wasn't THAT heartless) but it had been a fruitless task. No dice. Not even a lucky coin.

She sighed and resigned herself to continue this stupid pointless dumb task that she was now, what, 6 times over the time limit she'd given herself? Ugh...

But on her way out, her ears picked up something odd. A whisper, an echo, barely audible over the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. Incomprehensible nothing, but still, she was intrigued. Heading over to the distant tunnel, she followed the echoing sounds, trying to listen for its source. "Is someone there?" she called quietly, looking around for who had been making that odd sound.

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

Hidden away in this inhospitable, forgotten cave is a forgotten little chrysalis. It's tiny, likely registering as nothing more than a strange pebble in the steam-choked tunnel. The hatchling inside drifts in dark, dreamless peace. Until...

ᖶDᕼᘿᗩ ᓰS ᗩ ᒪᘿI, Eᖶᕼ ᕵᘉᓰᗩ ᓰS ᘿᘉEᖶᒪᖇA

They hear something. Something they shouldn't be able hear, still shielded in their diaspore cocoon. Something they really shouldn't listen to.

But.

The whispers penetrate. Through their gemstone. Through their skull. Through their mind. They are spurred on by something- curiosity, empathy, maybe even fear. Emotions are strange, barely-formed in their wakening mind. The hatchling stirs- slowly at first, then gradually increasing in intensity and desperation. They're trapped. They must get out. Must escape. Must listen. Must help.

ᕼRє Sᒪᕼᖴє Sᓰ ᘿWᗩᖽᐸ. ᗩᖇєᖶ єᖶᕼ ᕼᖴSᘿᒪ ᖴᓍᘻᖇ єᕼᖶ ᓍᗷᘿᘉ.

The gemstone splinters open, a crack just large enough for the hatchling to slither out. The gemstone spike on their tail gets caught on the jagged edge of the opening, eliciting a startled squeak. One strong tug sends them tumbling fully into freedom.

ᖶєᕼ ᖴᕼᒪᘿS ᓰS ᗩWєᖽᐸ. ᖶᕼᘿ ᓰᕵNᗩ ᓰS єᖶᖇᘿᘉᗩᒪ

The echoing whispers are only marginally louder and clearer outside of their gemstone tomb. They pause for a moment, head lifted as high as they tries to hone in on the source. Nothing else matters, not any other gembound that may be investigating, not the jarring hot-cold that shocks their ectothermic body. Only that faint, whispering call that drew it towards consciousness.

[Also note to theory-hunting people: all the spooky text in this post is just copy-pasted from the starter post of this thread. Ignore it]

Aurelle had been foraging, as per usual. It was a process no one really thought about, but she knew many trees and roughly when they'd be sprouting fruit. She always made sure just to take two or three back home with her, as not to exhaust the resource too quickly. Having a new backpack helped with that, because now she could carry even more fruit.

Sniffing the air, she'd lost track of something sweet-smelling. Maybe she'd taken a wrong turn, or miscalculated where she was meant to go-- but she dimly heard something, her ears pricking up. It sounded like a cry for help, maybe...?

Pulling into her magic, she could hear a strong heartbeat that came from a much more ordinary voice. Aurelle approached cautiously, her ears practically standing stark upright on either side of her head.

"I can hear you," she slowly answered the first voice, dimly aware that the second (Callista) was now standing somewhere to her near left, her heart thrumming in Aurelle's ear. "Do you need help?"

Coilean was in the area, because the rocks here was a different taste than normal, and he wanted to remember what exactly that difference was. He was a connoisseur, you see, looking to compare and contrast. But like the others, he was led astray by a faint cry on the wind, muffled by distance and... Pain.

It was scared, it was hurting. He suppressed an instinctual whimper, an urge to call for someone who wouldn't - couldn't - come to comfort him. Coilean sighed deep, breathing in the tunnel's strange air, and began to approach its source.

A pawful of others had heard the noise, all bipeds funnily enough. He tapped his blades together, unsure of what to say or where to place himself, until he saw a tiny shape on the jagged rock. He noted secondly the remains of a chrysalis nearby, and his heart jumped into action. "Oh! Baby! There's a baby!"

Obviously not the source, but worthy of attention, maybe moreso. He padded up to Eulogy, retracting further the closer he got, becoming as small as he could. "Hiii. Are you okay? Are you safe? What's your name?"

@Eulogy (tag for interaction)

gore

This tunnel smells of death. Blood and death, faintly caught beneath the scalding heat from one said and the blistering cold of another. Between the two, mortality and void.


ᖶᕼᘿ ᘿᖴᒪᕼS ᓰS ᘿᘺᗩᖽᐸ.
ᕲᗩᘿSᕼ ᓍᖶ ᘉᓰᖶ ᖇᘿᕵSᖶᘿᓰ. ᕲᘿᗩᖶᕼ ᓰS ᗩ ᒪᓰᘿ!
ᕲᓍ ᘉᓍᖶ ᗷᘿ ᗩᕲᗩᓰᖇᖴ. ᘿᘺ ᘺᒪᓰᒪ ᖇᘿᘻᘿᓍᐺ ᓰᖶ.
ᘺᘿ ᘺᓰᒪᒪ ᗩSᐺᓍ ᖻᘿᑘ!

The whisper is almost clearer here, as gembound converge, some older, one freshly made. They will find the whispers comes from a small cavern set into the wall. A wall that bears a fresh splatter of blood.

Approaching, the scent of death hits like heat beyond the shade. Within the shallow hole lies the corpse of a rabbit, partially decayed, the buzz of carrion flies flitting around its exposed innards. The skin of its face has begun to slough off, revealing the white bone of its skull beneath. A hundred whispers bounce off the walls, louder and louder as one approaches closer until it is a cacophony.


Sᕼᘿᖴᒪ! ᗩᘿᘺᖽᐸ! ᖴᒪᘿSᕼ! ᘺᘿᗩᖽᐸ!
ᖇᘿᖶᓰᐺᘻ ᓍᘿ!
ᖇᘿᓍᘿᐺᘻ ᖶᓰ!

REMOVE IT!!

Everyone nearby will suddenly feel a surge of emotion sweeping towards them. Violence. Tear the flesh. Remove it. But it is not powerful enough to catch, and the faint urge that comes with it is easy to ignore.

@Callista @Eulogy @Aurelle @Coilean

Aurelle reeled back, uncertain. She could scent the corpse loud and clear without having to really search for it. Her ears twitched at the whispers. She was fairly certain she could make out most of them-- the flesh is weak, she thought, death is a lie, do not be afraid, we will remove it, we will save you. Was the voice talking to them, or to the corpse? Aurelle didn't know, and she didn't want to voice what she heard out loud.

The whispers grew louder, then, and there was a strange sense in her chest to start ripping at something. The elf didn't like it very much-- she stepped back, mouth twisting and ears dipping low. "I-- don't think you should touch that," she told no one in particular. "I think there's something wrong with it. What is it?"

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

Callista flinched back as a small gembound suddenly raced past her feet, heading towards the place where the whispers were coming from. "Oops, sorry..." She stared at it, wondering if it hatching had something to do with the whispers. She followed its movement with her eyes, glancing at the elf that appeared, before creeping closer to the hole. She reached forward a paw to light up a bit and give them more vision, but the magic sputter out with barely a flicker. She frowned, but still leaned close, pupils expanding as she tried to see closer.

She flinched violently as the whispers suddenly exploded in her head. Her ears, too, twisted back, pressing flat against her head as she hissed quietly. The feeling that passed through was alien, strange, and terrifying. Her paws clenched, unsheathed claws threatening to dig into her skin, but she didn't give into the brief impulse.

Callista glanced back at Aurelle. "It's right in there, can't you..." She blinked, realizing that the elf wasn't looking anywhere in particular and there was a certain cloudiness to her gaze. Understanding, she glanced back at the cave. "Uh, its a corpse. A rabbit, probably a lesser. Looks like its been here a while. There's flies everywhere." Only slightly bothered by the gore, she leaned forward, trying to see if there was anything there of interest - stones or items or some living thing hiding in the rabbit's skin.

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

@Aurelle (interacting)

They quickly became aware of others, apparently drawn towards the same alluring whispers that had drawn them out of the darkness. Callista would get a small, startled hiss as she nearly stepped on them, darting out of her way only to be met by Coilean.

The fledgling was mildly intimidated by Coilean, if only because of the massive size difference and the fact they'd nearly been stepped on moments prior. But Coilean did not exude an intimidating presence, despite the knife arms. "Hhhhhhhiii?' They echoed instinctively, because they weren't really sure how to answer the other questions.

Wait. They knew what a name was. They knew what their name was. Did they know how to say it?"Ew... Eu.. Euo... Eulogy." Success!

To any older gembound, the command to rip and tear was startling, alien urge that quick to pass. But to Eulogy it was an all-important command, part of the call that had lured them into existence. If it demanded violence, they would oblige!

Without much warning they'd strike at Coilean's ankle. It would hurt. Maybe. A little pinch and maybe a pinprick of blood. Eulogy would writhe for a moment, trying to tear a chunk of flesh out of Coilean's ankle with every ounce of strength they had. It wasn't very effective. After a couple of moments they'd let go, looking vaguely distraught.

@Coilean

"Hi Eulogy! Wanna-"

The whispers, ignoreable up until now, screeched to a fever pitch in their heads, scratching desperately at their skulls, pressing though and polluting brain water. Coilean groaned, moving backward and shaking his head free of its influence, before the impulse could be sent along to his blades.

The stakes of listening, of giving in even for a moment, were multiplied tenfold by his anatomy. Remove the flesh- one more second and he'd be halfway done.

"Oh. Ow." Maybe the attack was a blessing, the pain bringing him back to earth after seconds of fevered panic. He raised the foot, watching with some concern as Eulogy writhed furiously - some kind of noodle, surely.

When they were done with his ankle, he didn't miss a beat. "-Wanna hang out?"

@Eulogy