Garnet-Epsilon

One ear pins straight back in a sort of confusion, but nods. "I assume then that Orthoclase-Alpha now outranks the rest of us who hatched then?" They muse out loud, only half asking and not really expecting an answer, as it quickly moves on, attentively taking note of the offer of another thing to learn.

"I have no compunctions against retrieving stones, or potential members, for I feel that having only one skillset is to doom myself for now. I will take on tasks assigned to me by Orthoclase-Alpha, then," they nod, but then wince slightly, "But otherwise I will do my best to avoid them. I would never interfere with the Overseer's projects."

Yet another sibling I cannot interact with. At this rate, the Sentinels will disperse to the winds like sand ourselves.

A small sneeze, the dusty bones making their nostrils itch, and they scan the room for their own sanity before asking, "If I was to be offered an opportunity to... share stones with the group I infiltrate," they wrinkle their nose in a show of disgust, but to be more honest the idea interests them. "Other than a no, and possibly risking a loss of a potential stone, what should I do? "

An odd question. A recent one, what with how it's been analyzing the shards left over from it's own hatching that they've stashed away. But one that seems on topic and relevant, at least.

"That's the end of my inquiries, for now I believe. If I have any more pertinent questions, I shall bring them to your attention."

@Hemlocke

"I believe it has been given the authority to use anything at its disposal - including any bodies in the Sentinels," it was a rather unsatisfactory half-answer to a half-question, and Hemlocke lowered its voice, "I do not know for certain whether or not it carries rank." That being said, it certainly could impose dominance onto any one of them at any opportunity; it simply chose not to, or it'd been ordered by their Overseer not to. Drip-feeding rewards, and all that. "do not concern yourself with asking around."

"My plans are to ensure that you can fit multiple roles, as required by our Overseer or Masters," the alien chirped, "I will not allow you to doom yourself to one task that can quickly become obsolete." Any choices made by them was a generalized path - Hemlocke wasn't about to focus nonstop on any one task and training towards it. Well-rounded bodies were more useful for longer, and looked more appealing on paper.

As for stones - "either decline or bring the living stone here and plant it in the Warren. They do not form a chrysalis until they meet the ground. Do not actively seek the chance to reproduce, and engage only if it's unavoidable for keeping up your cover. Your design has not been proven worthy of future iterations." It was a warning. Not yet, I hope, is at the end of that sentence.

Finally, the odd alien stood, fluttered down from its rock. Ruby-red eyes scanned its spawn student up and down. Its instructions left its mouth in rapid-fire, "I'll go over behind those rocks there -" it paused to indicate - "and you will wait a full minute - count to sixty in your head - before coming over with your first pass at an alternate identity. Start counting, now."

Off it went, behind a set of rocks, and immediately engaging with the two rats scavenging behind it - engineering a situation. Hemlocke's ears pinned back at their enraged, starved squealing, and its magic initiated. At forty seconds, it leapt down within reach of the rats, cowering against a boulder with numerous spurs pointing out and deterring them.

As a test of whether or not Epsilon would wait the full sixty seconds, it batted the rats away and shrieked, "help! Help me, please!"

@Garnet-Epsilon

Garnet-Epsilon

A confused tilt of a head and a nod at the information about Orthoclase, showing their attentiveness as Hemlocke continues. Then and small sigh of relief, almost invisible at the agreement that they wouldn't be rendered deliberately obsolete.

The statement regarding their stone inquiry, however, gets a sharp nod - and a determined gleam in it's eye. An invisible promise to follow the unspoken desire of fate - they will succeed.

Ears at attention as soon as the older alien moves, Epsilon tries not to shiver under the analysis and has no reaction to the orders, other than another nod.

To sixty. Not hard-

The shriek of rats makes their fur stand on end, and they dig their bright blue paws into the dirt.

To sixty. That's an order, and I need the time to think.

A pawful of dust, quickly scooped up and groomed into their mane- ruffling it aggressively to give the appearance of being roughed up themselves, and a deep breath.

15.... 16.... 17...

Scrubbing at their face- making their eyes water and grinding more dust into their very fine fur and between scales.

34.... 35... 36....

A quick roll in the dirt to cover any spots they missed, and a quick sniff before they focus and pull on their magic, hoping to create a disorienting aura that would throw off whoever - and whatever - would be on the other side. A call for help nearly has them move, but they can't. It's not right, not yet.

60. Time to move.

Of course, the one time they want to show off, they can't even generate so much as a whisper of noise, and they grind their jaw in frustration as they instead make another plan, cresting the rock and falling into character with a soft, "Oh- oh no! Hey, hey quick! Up here!

Their voice is shaking, and eyes wide, but Epsilon opens its wings and flaps, taking a deep breath and yelling at the rats while snapping its wings down harshly, hoping to scare them away- or at the very least startle them. "Go away! Go on, or I'll- I'll come down myself!"

@Hemlocke

To be completely honest, Hemlocke's judgement of what sixty seconds were was poorly made. It barely counted past the fifteenth second, merely taking that relative span and multiplying it by four to decide what sixty felt like. Faced with a pair of Lesser rats larger than it, that stretched on and on until - ah, there it is.

Coated head-to-toe in dirt and dust, haggard-looking with a soft voice. Many physical differences and distinctions already, good. Carries itself differently. Note-taking, Hemlocke nodded, wide-eyed and covered in spurs yet. "Okay - okay!" It kept its wings tucked at its sides, instead leaping up in a clean bound; perfectly in time with a snap of wings.

The rats squealed, shrieked angrily once at the massive shadow fallen upon them, and capered off into the bones.

Hemlocke watched, deliberately wide-eyed and shaking, and stared at Epsilon, "thank you, thank you so much -" Name, let's think of a name - "I'm Imp." Yikes. "Who - who should I be thanking?" It stared, imploring for a near-immediate answer - though... it wouldn't shame Epsilon too harshly for not being able to think of a name off the top of its head; it'd acknowledged that it had little experience interacting with the Gembound.

@Garnet-Epsilon

Garnet-Epsilon

Allowing themselves to shake slightly from the adrenaline in their veins, Epsilon makes sure the rats leave, and aren't just hiding nearby before they look towards Hemlocke. The look they're getting throws them for a loop, the expression seeming all too foreign on their parent-Commander's face and nearly getting some small chirp of concern before reality snaps back to Epsilon's mind.

Right, right, we're fine now.

Shifting so that Hemlocke, no, right now Imp, has room to safely perch next to them on the stone they almost lock up- a name for themselves? Uh oh.

"Ahah," an airy, light laugh, Epsilon trying to hide the rasp in their voice from yelling... What? They hadn't spoken much until recently, they're still adjusting okay? "I'm just glad we're okay..." Epsilon tries to buy themselves a bit of time, finally following up the question with a quiet answer.

"Others call me Smudge, if that's alright. I didn't do much other than spook those rats, though... do you have anyone you could walk with in this cave? The rats are..." a wry laugh, and Epsilon glances out over the Circuit, and they look back, "Kinda hungry and mean."

Oh I have no idea what I'm doing, here's hoping that all the half-truths work...

Epsilon looks obviously anxious, as they glance around the caves every so often, and swivel their ears to catch any stray sounds.

@Hemlocke

Stalling - a little obvious, but good. Could be passed off as adrenaline high... Hemlocke continued to add to its his mental notes, and settled onto his haunches. Sticking a webbed hind leg out, he scrabbled at his side, knocking one keratinous spur after another, pointedly wincing.

If that's alright? "No reason why it wouldn't be," Hemlocke responded, a little sharply, then slid back into the faux identity with another series, "thank you, thank you, thank you..." Imp shook himself out, shedding another few clusters of spines, "can't say it enough, oops - yipes." One came off a little roughly.

Ruby-red eyes stared at Smudge, "didn't seem scared by me at all - how do you do it? Making a whole bunch of noise?" Imploring. Then, the offer: "no, no, and... cripes, I can't fly with one of these spikes about to get in my wings." He laughed bitterly, "so mean. Someone ought... teach them a lesson - !"

@Garnet-Epsilon

Garnet-Epsilon

A flinch that they let telegraph through their whole body at the snappy response, the "Why wouldn't it be?" making their ears flop flat, a quiet, "Oh, some people say it's a dumb name, eheh..." slipping out, and sounding... embarrassed. Epsilon is really trying okay, they just want approval...

But, the wincing catches their attention, and they slowly reach out, as if to stop Hemlocke Imp from hurting themselves.

"Do you need help with that? It'd be best not to draw blood..." Wide concerned eyes and a flapping of ears and wings as if in dismissal and embarrassment. "Hey, it's fine, really, what else was I going to do? Rats are nasty creatures, anyway," a sharp snort of disgust, and a crinkling of their nose, and a quick, "They're cowards anyway, sometimes all it takes is someone else showing up."

Epsilon takes note of the gesture at the spikes, and the question and hidden request.

"I'm good at making noise, really! And I used to have a.. bigger friend..." they trail off, and glance off to the side - not really sure how to continue it, but they leave it hanging, choosing to address the need for revenge in Imp...

"But, teach them a lesson? No. Rats are too dumb to learn, mostly... just try to avoid them, really, because even the ones who learn you aren't food are usually not the ones trying to eat you the next day."

A bit of a side step and a bob, as Epsilon looks over Hemlocke Imp for more spikes, and to eye their wings as if checking for wounds. "We might as well stick together- right? At least until you can fly again, and maybe we can find others?"

@Hemlocke

Hemlocke squinted, but otherwise stuck to character - adding a somewhat sharp tone to its response: "well, you should be confident about your name! Then, maybe they'll believe in it and not think its so dumb?" Double-edged wording, both advice and simple conversation. Confidence was the key to many things - but an excess of it was a slow, insidious killer. As it stood, Hemlocke thought Smudge-Epsilon had none.

Regardless, Imp kept at tugging and pulling, "oh, no, no, it's like preening - but the quills just don't want to come out." He assured the other, voice pitching up as another bone spur was torn out by his beak. Feathers puffing out, the odd alien shook himself. "I appreciate it - really." A smile tugged at the corners of his beak, and he kept to his punches, "it'd be funny though. We'd send those bastards a-running!" Tail between their legs and everything.

Imp adjusted his wings, "l'il bit more and I think I'll be good - but yeah. I know a good place that we can hide..." He stood, tail flicking out from around his webbed paws. Ruby-red eyes fixed on the garnet, beckoning before he strode off.

Then, with a visible stiffening, Hemlocke turned around, nodding - "good. Sticking together after danger builds trust that you can abuse later." Satellite-dish ears swiveled around, ignoring the potential whiplash it might've just given the initiate. "What improvements do you think you could've made, looking back at that?" It also ignored the bone spurs still sticking out of its body.

@Garnet-Epsilon