Ivory stood a little nervously, a little excitedly, staring out into the snow. Her breath came in frosty huffs, and her green-glowing eyes tried, and failed, to pierce the blizzard's curtain.

To her surprise, she'd found another Gembound here her size: Virgil, dark to her white, a bare inch shorter and a close shave of less than a hundred pounds heavier. She'd never expected to find another so large--Vargas had proven to be massive, but everyone else she'd ever met she towered over. Or at least outweighed. But Virgil had a similar build, a similar shape; there were differences, here and there, but Ivory found herself fascinated by it.

"Hey--I'm Ivory. You kinda look like me," she observed, and then added, "but I bet you feel warmer." Her fur was certainly thinner around her sides and legs, though the feathery tufts here and there would save her extremeties, at least, from frostbite. And she reflected, too, that her coloring would make her harder for an enemy to spot, though equally, harder for her allies to keep track of.

"If we stick together, I bet we could stop anything that tries to hurt us all," Ivory suggested.

Other than that, she mostly just looked around, awaiting ideas from the others, though curious about the depths of Hydra beyond. Her father'd never told her much about it.

Shida was there, then, greeting her, and Ivory plodded over. She gave her sister a warm, friendly nuzzle, and spoke rather happily. "Hi; I'm glad you made it. We stay together, yeah?" Shida was quicker than her--and, she thought, smarter too--but she was the big bulky bully of the pair of them. They could look out for each other--and maybe with Virgil alongside them, they'd come out of this okay.

Warrior had gained a rather thick and shaggy coat in the last couple weeks. He was nearly fully-grown, now: still a slender-limbed but strong little horse, but he'd found that he had to eat near-constantly to keep his warmth going. He'd taken to drawing energy from the earth itself, standing as if grazing with head low over rock and sand as nutrients flowed up through him. It was magic, he knew, and it was, at times, all that was keeping him alive; the plant life here was... lacking, at best.

And he'd seen no one else, lately. Part of that was visibility, but part of it was the cold, and sometimes he wondered if he were the last being left in Hydra. Oh, the sand worms were still there--and the vultures--but they didn't count, really; they couldn't speak. And both seemed to lie in a torpor, lethargy from the cold leaving them wholly motionless.

Though with the sand worms, that was really how they were all the time.

But now he was keeping watch on the strange bone-tunnel at the end of the salt flats. He trotted out there every couple days and kept it at the edge of his sensory magic, worriedly checking it over. Somehow, he feared that the bones of Canis, or whatever had dragged them there, might rise up and come here. Does this place cycle between hot and cold often? he wondered, and Is this how everything died? Granted, nights in Hydra could be bitterly cold, but not like this, and not all the time.

For now, there seemed to be no respite from it. At night he shivered, finding small crevices in the Crucible to futiley try to hold his heat in. But it was cold, achingly cold, all the time.

It was today, for the first time, that the now-shaggy desert horse actually sensed other living beings: a large group of them, in fact, lingering near the tunnel mouth. But they didn't look... dangerous, somehow. His magic saw blinking flashes of red just milling about, perhaps talking, and Warrior risked pushing through the snow until he could barely make out their shapes in the distance.

"Hello?" he called out, at last. "I am Warrior; where-... Who are you? Where did you come from?"

He hesitated, stopping a little under twenty yards away, still barely-visible in the blinding white. He looked them over. They were highly-varied, and none of them really struck him as deadly predators. Hargrave even looked pretty, in a way--elegant and lithe, chocolate-dark; Virgil and Ivory (who he could hardly see) both had the look of vanguards. Another looked like a smaller, long-legged version of Virgil, albeit with a blue crown wreathing its head, and another still seemed to glow with a soft blue light. There were others, too--large and small, brown and white, and he wondered what such an eclectic gathering was doing here.

He worried that it might be something important--something he had missed.

Warrior will be joining the Trial.

“

SEE ME BARE MY TEETH FOR YOU

···

Null was rather quiet as she waited for the days to pass. There were several creatures, ones like her and unlike her- especially the large, looming purple one leaning over to speak to an orange one. He was the same size as the other pale thing around- were they related?

She stopped staring and turned to the others, trotting in closer. It was cold, even with her thick fur. Her nose twitched and her ears twisted this way and that was she sidled up next to Hargrave, looking to immerse in the canine's pelt with a silent question of permission.

They'd have to stick together to keep warm, and she shivered slightly as the cold began to set in. What did they have to survive? And... Why did she follow everyone in?

Gatto arrived. Riled by the electric energy in the air, they strut out with the rest of the group into the bitter cold of the Hydra, golden eyes scanning the blinding white. They fluffed up their feathers, mandibles grinding against their beak as they prowled along the outer outskirts of the group, listening to the chatter. With an exhale, they managed to heat the air just around themselves for a few moments.

Already, this group seemed eager to work together. Was it because the previous champions were so few in number? The cockatrice suspected that this might be a longer trial, one to force difficult decisions. Where would they get shelter in a storm like this, much less food? If they had to resort to killing one another--

The Agate shook their head. It seemed like the fur-ruffed Desert Rose was considering striking out from the main group... A choice that might have been wise, given the circumstances. Still, they couldn't let a fellow champion get off so easily. "Hey, Desert Rose Thirty-Five!" They squawked, butting into the conversation they struck up with a denizen of... what. Was this part of the test?

"We are Champions!" Gatto clamored, spreading their wings and doing their best not to wince at the fierce winds buffeting them. "And you, my friend, are bearing witness to one of hundreds of Trials to test our wits and fortitude..." They glanced toward the others, pulling their downy wings back into their body to conserve heat. "But it looks like you'll fit in just fine with the rest of the clueless lot. If you want to join us... I don't see why that would be against the rules."

That said, they turned their mandible-beak toward the sand-dragon's ear. "Is it just us, then?" They inquired quietly, barely above the roaring wind. "No sign of Opal, Lapis or Labradorite..." Obviously no sign of Garnet-- Hemlocke, either, but considering Hemlocke's earned favor, they presumed it was a privileged. Maybe the others were enjoying their newfound freedom... But... As much as the Agate wanted to make their own rules, they still lived and breathed the life of a Champion.

It was... what they were made for, even if they disagreed with some of the main structural points of the system.

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five

Desert's eyes lingered on the Merchant. Something about him put him off- he felt like he should try and remember who was under the mask, if he even would be able to.

But, it wasn't like he knew much anyways. Huffing, he made to step out in the snow after Vargas's words, stopping as his Overseer leaned in.

Lightning-blue eyes caught Vargas's teeth as they moved with a reminder. "Of course, Overseer." It wasn't like he could forget- any advice for upcoming uncertainties stuck in his brain, and the memory of the interaction was still fresh in his mind.

Ruffled by the cold and wind, the champion set foot into his personal hell with disdain played across his face. The rough hair he'd developed barely did anything against the snow underfoot. If his skin wasn't already blue, it'd sure as hell be blue now.

The others were banding together. That wouldn't be good- alone he posed as something that could be picked off, but together they brought more attention to themselves with all of them pressed together. Here, though, it wasn't a race, and he squinted back at the entrance. He could make his way to the Crucible?

He turned as he backed away, wings flaring out slightly. He didn't want to be caught in a mass murdering among all of them if something came out unexpectedly. Though, as he did, he turned to witness- who in the caves-

"What the hell," he grumbled under his breath, turning to face whoever was there. "The hell'd you come from?" There couldn't be people living in Hydra. And this- even from afar, it looked like a damn kid! Surely they aren't new here?

His head moved to look at the Agate as it called his designation, an alertness to his bright eyes. "Some of are, anyways-" he corrected as he called out, head extending. He trotted closer to the bird, forgoing his previous inhibitions for a moment to talk. They had changed, too. Hadn't Hemlocke mentioned something along those lines?

The cockatrice has gotten close, and Desert regarded them for a moment. "Agate," he greeted with a nod. "As far as I'm aware? Yes." His head retreated into his mane as he closed his eyes, his warm breath escaping in a cloud. "I have not seen the Lapis nor my brother recently, but the Opal seems to have had a spark of rebellion, against the entire caves, it seems." Even with the lacings of frustrations under the word, he more just sounded exasperated at that fact. "Hemlocke has been excused, thanks to its position."

He was not aware of the Agate's own disposition, but he still stared back to the group. "Which is for the better. If I end up failing this, it will fall to them to raise the children." His wings shuffled in front of him and his new paws rubbed together as he sat. "What're your plans? Going to stick with the group again? I wouldn't blame you." It was warm there, and he certainly didn't seem to carry his past anger at the perceived foolishness of togetherness. "I'll be honest, I've known this was coming for a while, but I'm surprised that new beings are still flocking to it. At least Palefur's joined, and two of these look like one of the past ones who ran it last time." And lastly there was poor Imp, who Desert actually found an ounce of pity for. What had happened to it between trials?

"I'm hoping I haven't forgotten anything this time." It had been so long since he'd run a winter trial- his body wasn't built for them.

Kalama took her first step into Hydra, and was immediately assaulted by the sheer cold of the place. She raised her talon as if she'd stepped on fire. Snow? What was snow doing here. She fluffed up her thick feathers, and tucked her wings close. Was it always this cold in Hydra? "Why's it so cold." She said. She was pretty sure it hadn't been like this the first time. She distinctly remembered it had been warm when she was first denied her right to trial. No matter, Kalama had a trial to win. She'd destroy them all in this. Surviving was the easiest task the Masked Merchant could've given her. She paused, then.

She'd heard a familiar voice. One that sparked anger within her. "Imp!" She shouted. Her tail stood straight up, and she whipped her head around for the source of the little dragons voice. There were so many gembound, the only time she'd seen this many in one place was the rare occasion when she attended the Bonebound meetings.

There--he was talking to some big, brown thing. Finally, a worthy opponent. She plowed through the snow towards the pair, catching the tail end of somthing to do with 'murders'. "Imp! My nemesis! When I finish this trial in first place, I shall face you in one on one combat! Our battle will be legendary!" Kalama flapped her wings, stirring up a pair of small twisters of snow as she walked. She immediately regretted it, feeling the cold and snow bite into the pockets of warmth her wings had left. She summoned her disused magicka and began to cast char. She felt her feathers and tail begin to prickle with pain and new warmth.

She wasn't aware of what Imp had been talking about with the murders and such, but she was the only one allowed to harm her rival. "You're not allowed to die until our rematch. And open your eyes, you cant see the snow like that." She snapped.

Speech. Thought

Oleander

Melt all your art and drink the paint

She'd seen it from down the tunnel - a group of Gembounds gathered before Hydra. It wasn't exactly a rare sight to see. After all, there was a whole bunch of guys that just...lived in that tunnel. Oleander wasn't very keen on returning to Hydra again, not after she'd literally lost an eye to that place when she was newhatched, but she couldn't help but be curious. Was something going on?

She never thought she'd see Hydra frozen, but here it was - icy and white and totally covered with snow. Instead of bright lights beating down and hot sand as far as the eye could see, it was a blizzard, the distance totally obscured by a cover of white.

Awed, she followed them, stepping back into the cave she thought she'd never return to, straggling behind the main force. What had happened? What was even going on? Why were they all here, what was this Trial thing? And why was Hydra covered with snow?!

She turned back, intending on getting out of here as soon as possible, but, to her horror, there was a shimmering barrier between her and the rest of the caves. She was stuck here. Again.

Oleander only pushed against the barrier for a moment before she cut her losses and turned back. She'd survived once before, she could do it again. Her one eye blinked, however, as a familiar creature entered her sights. She hadn't seen him in cycles - not since her first horrifying excursion to the cave. She gasped and galloped forward, tripping through the snow, until she reached Warrior. "Warrior, is that you? Are you okay?" She looked around. "Why is Hydra...snowing?" She shivered. Damn, it was really cold. "What happened?"

m for fisher's potty mouth

Fisher bounded in with the others, tail twitching this way and that as he weaved through piles of snow. Quickly, it was proving to be quite-- not difficult, but-- exhausting with his small legs. Thankfully, he didn't have to trudge along too far before the taller folk started offering free rides, and with a grin, he scrambled up the first Gembound he could-- one with big, bright blue horns that stuck out in the snow storm.

The blind-lizard-bat (Imp, was his name?) said something about dangerous beasts under the ground, and already the noodle was on high alert. Oh shit, he thought to himself, fur prickling. Immediately, he could feel the deer-sheep(Wynter)'s pulse thudding steadily under paw, followed slowly by each and every gembound setting off into the snow.

"Hey," he barked, "I'll keep an ear out. If anything tries to fuck with us-- I'll blast 'em into the next century!" After all, he at least roughly appeared to be the most battle-scarred of the group. It would probably be up to the wise old fart to protect the herd. But hey, if anyone could accomplish the impossible Trial set out for them, Fisher was more than confident.

He was the idiot straddling the fine line between bravery and stupidity at all hours.

At first, the white snowstorm remained just that: the very mundane, if potentially deadly, whirling of white flakes in bitterly-cold air.

But as the moments ticked by, an indefinable sense of wrongness began to permeate the air. It felt darker than it was, somehow. It felt as though something were watching them all. Something... coming for them.

There was the slightest rumble underfoot, and the Gembound--every one of them--would be struck by sudden misgiving, an ominous feeling that staying here would be a very dangerous idea.

It would be Fisher who spotted it first: a massive... something far below the sands (and now, snows) of Hydra: something whale-sized, or larger; something impossibly vast, something large enough to swallow them all in a single gulp, grinding up to meet them...

_______

Placements are still not in effect. Rolls are not yet required.

Run.

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five (Null) @Imp (Ivory) @Agate Two-Three-Six (Wynter, Fisher) @Virgil (Vinea, Hargrave) @Shida (Palefur, Lyra, Oleander) @Kalama

M for... Imp

Imp, huddled securely in the warmth of Virgil's woolly fur, turned in disbelief to Kalama.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING AN EMESIS?!" he shouted, his 'outrage' half-lost to his confusion (AND WHAT'S AN 'EMESIS'), and his words all-in-all half-lost to the snowstorm, anyway. "And I CAN'T OPEN MY EYES. I HAVEN'T GOT ANY FUCKIN' EYES. FUCK YOU," he added, for good measure, shuffling around to fully face the chicken's vague-voice-direction.

"I didn't hear Garnet here! Is that shitheap here this time!? That fucker tricked me and BETRAYED ME to the FUCKIN' BETRAYER HERSELF, the penis-face! And they tore my fuckin' eyes out! FUCK THEM. Sorry," Imp added down toward his ride, going from shouting fury to conversational politeness in half a second.

And back again.

"But fuck them! Garnet and Nemean and that fuckhead Vargas, too."

Imp paused.

"-Hey, anyone feel a little weird?"