Her pelt was a deep blue: a sky the caves had never known; and kissed with stars that the caves would never see. Beneath it, her heart was racing. Ears pinned, eyes wide, tail tucked, she bolted down into that nest, scrambling to Mother as if she had always been here, had always known her.

"Thank the caves-... please. Please, help me."

There was a soft hum, a glow, and the matted knot of white fungus that had grown throughout the hollow beneath the moss began to shine.

Fear came from her--and strength; a call to arms, a call for aid. The bones and vegetation--what her good children had fed her, during her growth--trembled with the strength of it.

"Family... Children... Please, come to me." She knew that some were quite close by--but others might be far, and she would need to rest whilst they arrived. She fell still, and silent--but the fluttering fear of the blue stranger now reached out to them, frantic.

Hunted.



________

Members of the hive-mind are being summoned by the nest-Mother.

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five (Pallas) @Labradorite Five-Four-Six @Lamia (Azrael) @Zelk @Archimedes (Sergei, Legion) @Opal Three-Seven-Six

P A L L A S
the man who sleeps with a knife
is a fool every night but one

Of course, Pallas had never really left. No-- Mostly, he'd been busy, been keeping the den warm and comfortable for Mother, waiting... For something.

It escaped him what, sometimes, though he saw the random glimpse of his siblings every so often. More usually, though, he felt their pull before he saw them- a few had weakened their attachments to the family, many have yet to bother returning to this damp warren.

But not Pallas. No- He had purpose in his life, had something to do with the knowledge he'd gathered on his lonesome. He kept the visitors pleased, kept all ready.

Though, he had to hunt for himself sometimes. He'd begun the slow process of bringing his own belongings to her mass (after a long time of debating if she would be okay with it), even if he hadn't had much- perhaps she'd like the company of his structures while he was gone for himself, anyways. Now, though, with the flicker of a blue tail passing through to her mass, the linsang felt a shot of adrenaline rush straight through his legs as they carried him before he had a second to think, whatever he had in his mouth abandoned where he stood. That... Wasn't one of his siblings. He didn't feel a connection to this thing like he did with them, but... Something was there.

The faint feeling of something answered when he laid eyes on her. All at once, fear had flooded his sense of being- Was it from her? Or.. Was it another of the children? Was he the first to lay eyes on her?

Heart hammering about his skull, Pallas swallowed dryly over his tourmaline gem. Words failed him at the most crucial time, but... He knew. This was Mother. Her anxieties had washed over him, amplifying his primal thoughts and instincts as breath rattled out over his tongue, his body lowering in a short bow. "I hope it's- adequate," he began, glancing about the leafy beds he'd created for the other siblings. He wasn't sure what to say- how should he address her? What did she need from them?

No matter. She was here- and as was he, subservient and prepared to do anything. Anything for his Family.

The rat had been one of those who'd hardly left. Or rather--he'd gone in and out, near-constantly, but he'd made his home here and rarely gone far.

Archimedes had taken to gathering plants to feed to Mother, and tended them; he'd also soaked himself down and returned, shivering, to drip a little water when the nest had grown too dry. But the leaf nests that Pallas had created were a welcome warmth for the long days he lay asleep--and come nights, off he went again, scurrying through the darkness to scavenge for his mother.

This new call had him sharply at attention, worried, intent, and he was as before one of the first to arrive. Bounding in, he drew up short at the sight of the stranger--then sat up, sniffing and briefly passing paws through his whiskers.

I'm here, he announced, through thought alone--there was no need to say it aloud.

Lamia frequented the cave, almost splitting her time between staying here, taking care of Mother as best she could from her little pond (and sometimes even dragging herself from the water to do something more) and swimming the lagoons of Pisces or the ocean of Fornax, catching fish or tending to the little garden she'd started outside of her cave. Sometimes she would harvest bits of the kelp and present them to Mother as well. All in all, she did her best with what she had.

The call rang through the waves and Lamia paused, looking up from her work. She was in the process of planting yet another sample of kelp she'd pulled from Fornax that had looked slightly different then the ones she already had. One of her fins twitched curiously and she turned, abandoning her project for now. This was more important.

She'd gone this way many times before, following the same path through the lagoon until she reached the small hole in the stone walls that would lead her to Mother's cove. She swam through the rather narrow tunnel and appeared in the small pond that made up the corner of the cave. Her head popped over water and her arms came forward, grasping at the stones on the edge of the water. She pulled herself forward, heaving onto land, but keeping the gills on her sides submerged so she could, well, breath.

Mother, I am here, she echoed, her haunting song barely rising from the water, echoing softly in the cave. Who is this?

The humming swarm was swift to arrive. It still came a little after the others, having had a bit more distance to travel, but it was quick: a blur of fuzzy brown, shifting and refracting the light to blend against the rock as it swept down into the nest. There it hovered, for a moment, its thousands of singular minds providing one coherent message to the other members of the hive: a questioning, a concern.

What is wrong? and then, after a moment--How can we help?

Legion drifted down over the white threads, passing balls of knotted fungus and strings of dripping, pale strings, and landed on an alveolate mat of the stuff. His body reformed fully, taking a coherent shape--that of the bioluminescent, strangely-alien thing from caves-knew-where.

This shape paused, looking wide-eyed to the others and then to the heart-like ball of sickly white at the hollow's center: at Mother. Waiting--waiting, and wondering.

He arrived some time later. Slow, lumbering, but never having gone far: fishing at the banks, bringing what little he did not eat (and a great deal of bones and scales) to the Nest, he took some minutes to answer the call.

Sergei lumbered in, half-crouching to press himself through the warren-like entrance of moss and fungus, sweeping through the ferns until he came into the open, putrid area of fungus within.

"Yes--I am here," he rumbled, and then sat back on his haunches. One massive hind paw slowly raised, scratching languidly at the ruff of his neck, as he awaited orders.

Black Opal
honestly i thought that i would be dead by now

The black opal slipped quietly into the nest, tracking water and mucus over the fungus. He had not strayed far since Mother welcomed him into her embrace. He had made himself at home in the lagoon, religiously catching fish to feed her.

His Mother. The one who uplifted him from the scorching sands of Hydra and freed him from the bonds of the Masters. The one who gave him a home, a family; a real purpose. Of course he came when she called, fish in mouth.

The Opal peered around the hive until his eyestalk spied the newcomer. The fish was for Mother, but the fox-like stranger looked like she needed it more, so he place it at her paws and dipped his head. "I'm here." he told Mother.

The call came while he was on his way back, rat carcasses held in each of his four hands, fresh and still warm. A little dusty, but Mother didn't seem to ever care. He hurried his pace and dropped into the familiar tunnel, one of the last to arrive.

He stepped towards the mass of white fungus while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "MOTHER," he boomed, "I have brought you rats!" He held up his catches but then noticed a stranger standing before him, a blue something and his voice trailed away before he could say anymore. He blinked. "Who are YOU?" Was it an enemy? Did Mother call them together to drive it off or something? Well, if nobody else was attacking it, he settled for glaring at it suspiciously, dropping two of the rats to free his upper arms.

Frantic. Beating heart. Panic.

Then, Mother's voice, soothing. Reassuring, ringing through their minds. "Fear not, my children... She is a child of mine. Reji... Reji... It was Reji. Speak. Breathe. Share."

Threads of gratitude wove like tendrils into the minds of those who had brought her gifts: the rats, the fish, the plants. Mother had been fed well, and grown strong. She thanked them for that.

But now, the star-scattered fox creature was gathering herself. A deep breath, and the fear that was shared through all their minds faded, at least a little. She bowed her head, and began to speak.

"Forgive me, Mother. I do not know how long it's been. That rock-headed slave-driver Rezik-..." She took a breath, looking to the others, glowing eyes wide. "You-... You are Her family, now? You look different-... Different than I remember," she added, softly. She eyed Azrael, and then Opal, her eyes drifting over each in turn. "Except you, I think. You look-... familiar. Like the others."

"The others are no more." It was softly-said into their minds, bad news gently given.

A spike of surprise. Of grief. The fox-creature looked to Mother, and then bowed her head again. "...Of course they wouldn't be. That traitorous bastard." She spat in the dust, and then looked up to the Gembound.

"My name is Reji. I don't know what you've been warned of, what you haven't, what the state of the caves is--but Rezik is awake. We're all in danger, here. He betrayed us--caves, I don't know how many cycles ago. He killed our leader. He killed N'chard-..." Her breath hitched sharply, grief and rage combining. "He--..."

Reji paused, and her head came up, suddenly. Those large, cupped ears swept forward around the halo atop her head, seeming to hear something that the others could not-... and then an electric fear screamed along the link that she now shared with the Gembound present.

"He's here," she whispered--and then leapt, scrambling, along one of the narrow passageways that Mother had gradually eroded from the rock. "There's a way out--this way--I can feel it. Come, fast--find me in Cetus. I'll explain everything there. But be fast!" she cried. "He is coming."

Outside, two figures were stepping carefully over the mosses. Both wore similar shapes, though one was smaller, blue, the other brown, the ruby on his forehead glowing softly. He'd had his suspicions for some time now, but...

Eyes narrowed. Astraea took several steps forward, and his nostrils flared. A beast's snout, he was reminded, and this only stoked his growing anger further. But he could smell them--the hive had been very well-hidden, and she'd cleverly concealed it, he could see, with fungus so as to confuse his senses. But it was there, and it was time to root it out. "They're here. You were correct. You may return, and I will come back for you."

Behind Astraea, Rezik bowed deeply--Astraea, facing away, curled a lip at his grovelling, but said nothing. He waited until the branch-antlered creature had left before approaching the foul hive further, and then he called out to the Gembound that he knew were within.

"Those of you Gembounds within that hole, know you have been misled," Astraea called. Oh, it might be easier to walk up and tear their gems from their bodies... but then one or two might slip away, and the foul taint would be spread. If it hadn't been already. It wasn't them he was concerned with, regardless, but the disgusting thing which had taken hold of their very brains.

"The creature you worship has taken control of your minds. It holds no benevolence for you. It is a disease that has infested this cave in the past, and it poses a threat to all of us. It will make you its slaves, until you hold no feelings, no thoughts, of your own. It seeks only control... domination. I will give you one chance to come out, and to allow yourselves to be cleansed willingly. You will not be punished. But if you refuse, then I will kill you." Astraea paused, his eyes narrowing, scraping one hoof along the moss. "I cannot allow this to spread, and put every living being in these caves at risk." Another pause, and then--"You have thirty seconds to comply."