Although not the largest chrysalis to envelop a new life in the warrens of the Sentinels, the zoisite was a hefty, lopsided sphere of mottled toxic greens and lumpy mauve that had taken up a good chunk of space in its own right. The creature inside had formed in a curled up state, only the faintest pinpricks of golden glow managing to pierce the otherwise solid stone. There was no way to tell what was forming inside otherwise; even putting a light up against it showed only a vague, dark lump.

After several days of waiting, the being inside had grown to be cramped inside of its shell. It had not previously had thought, nor even a notion of existence, until this moment here. The sensation of being crushed by the walls that surrounded it caused it to shift, pushing with appendages it had not known about. Disturbed, and with some alarm, it struggled against the stone.

There was a spark from one end of the creature, a sharp sensation that caused a chain reaction through its body. Legs kicked, and jaws snapped, and with a violent jerk, the wall gave way with a shattering sound. With one side of the stone egg broken, the concave, oil-slicked surface suddenly slipped underneath the curled up creature. It flipped out of the zoisite on to the cavern floor, hissing and spitting as legs struggled underneath a writhing body. Hairs bristled as jaws snapped at the stone surrounding it, startled and wild.

The moment passed as exhaustion took hold of the hefty newborn. Outer shell still soft and yet to harden, the grub splayed out on the stone and curled up again, six lucid, lime eyes stared about at the strange, cold air.

SoS welcome, baby hatching time! @V-Selenite-One

The chrysalis lying next to the zoisite was relatively much smaller. A gleaming white stone with growth all in one direction, forming what appeared to be layered sheets. Glowing verdigris stole through at times, but it was otherwise inactive. Most effort spent on developing, it seemed. It was merely convenient that the neonate inside happened to be done at the same time as a hissing and spitting grub tumbling out of its chrysalis.

One second, the selenite was intact; the next, it split straight down the middle and upchucked a tiny child onto the ground. It was curled up on itself, four arms and a tail clutched around two legs. All soft-shelled like its hatchmate. Oversized ears flopped over its face, almost suctioning against it with all the newness and wetness clinging to it. Glowing eyes opened once, but it squealed and shut them again at the bright light. It tried again, though — but slowly, this time. Colors blurred into focus with every blink. Taking a shaky first breath, the infant twisted…

… and toppled completely sideways.

It hadn't quite figured out all those limbs yet, and didn't at all try to steady itself as it turned to peer at the grub next to it. The infant squeaked again, chirruping softly towards the zoisite. One limb coiled out from itself, extending as far as it could go. Being barely a foot and a half in height, it wasn't far. The selenite was enraptured by its hand for a moment and turned it over and over, but — ah! The apparent task at hand.

Rocking over onto its stomach, the selenite stood unsteadily. Knees buckled and it resolved to just crawl awkwardly on its hands and knees.

Chirping, the selenite crept over to its hatchmate — no, sibling — and lifted a single hand to pat at Zoisite. An inquisitive coo escaped it, marveling over all of the strange textures between its kneecaps and its fingers. Too many to name all at once, but fascinating.

@V-Zoisite-One

The bright mauve grub stared at the world around it with wonder, only to freeze as it finally noticed its sibling; a darker thing, chubbier and smaller, with flappy ears and green pricklies enveloped around its intense, dark face. The zoisite's jaw parted into three, glowing electric tongue tasting the air as its underbelly bristled under it.

A precious sound escaped the little sibling, fingers touching the soft, still-forming armor of zoisite's flank. Air hissed out from its open jaws at the touch, a tiny eeeeeeeee of alarm as it pushed itself up on to its wobbly limbs once more.

From under its skin a brilliant flash of yellow flared up like an alarm blaring, as both sets of its jaws clacked together with a defensive tap-tap-tap. Quills quivered, and as it arched its back further, the little grub lost its balance, and fell over once more. Immediately it curled up, soft, still forming armor tucking on the inside, clumsily bumping its two pincers together. The two ends reacted to the touch, opening and clamping down on one another and locking it in position. Its underbelly exposed and pointed outward, a sea of harsh red fur and soft bright needles tried to defend it. It... didn't quite know what to do with its legs, however, which continued to wiggle and scuffle against the stone and air without much progress.

From this doughnut position, however, its upside-down head could stare outward, and its sextuple stare continued to watch with wide eyes.

@V-Selenite-One

Floppy ears cupped forwards and pricked straight up in wide-eyed alarm at the jaws splitting and tongue sticking out. The selenite instinctively got its feet underneath itself and stood, back arched much like a cat's. Tail sticking up like a half-armored flag, it crab-walked away a few paces. Quills rattled in time with its hatchmate's bristling. Cyan eyes flicked down and immediately started to search the various shards of chrysalis. Nothing immediately tuck out for the purposes it had in mind; which were certainly not to stab and try to pry the grub back open.

It let off a petulant "megh!" in response and toddled forwards, patting eagerly at each of the wiggling legs. The infant tried to stand on its two legs a few times, and other times crawled around the fuzzy donut on just one pair of arms. Curious, or some kind of playing? It wasn't sure yet - but it'd figure that out once it got its hatchmate out of this donut!

Gripping one leg by the toesies, it tugged with a perhaps overly-dramatic, chirping whine.

@V-Zoisite-One @Vargas (for whenever he wants to enter!)

He had heard the crack of stone and turned, perked up at once--but no, it wasn't his; it was Alpha's creatures hatching. And near at the same time, too; he glanced at his own creation's chrysalids, wondering if perhaps they might all be influenced by magic, if they might hatch together-...

No.

...Damn.

Still, he was curious; and with Orthoclase-Alpha off in Cetus to watch the oily stones there, Vargas had remained here to guard (Lord Dhracia's stone could not be left alone). With Two and Beatris gone that left him, the few scattered scouts near the tunnel, and the sleeping vulture somewhere farther down. Which meant that when the fat grub spilled out, no one was there to see his look of blank shock.

He should have expected this, of course--he knew the stone-giver, and he knew Algol's tricks--but it was still a... well, a surprise. He paced close enough to ensure it wasn't in any danger, then lowered himself to his haunches as the Selenite began to split.

And then he watched, silent, as one began to crawl around the other. Inside, he was half in a panic: he didn't remember his first set of clumsily-made creations being this helpless when hatching. Had they been-? Was it something to worry about?

If they were crippled, weak, he ought to destroy them--not yet, of course, but he was hoping rather fervently that it wouldn't come to that. Even Vargas would gain no joy from such things. You must be strong little ones, he thought fiercely at them, but did not say.

Other than that, he had no idea what to do with children; the last time he'd had the others' support in dealing with the young. And so Master Vargas lowered himself to his haunches, staring awkwardly at the two children and hoping that Orthoclase-Alpha would return soon.

The zoisite hatchling watched, unblinking, as its strange twin slowly approached a second time. Jaws remained clamped tight as pudgy baby fingers grasped at red talons, and every single leg attached to the furry doughnut froze.

Completely locked in place, the selenite began to drag it across the floor. It continued to... Play dead? For several seconds, as it was dragged about, until finally its grip slipped as it forgot to keep its pincers clamped tight. Its body unfurled, and its head twisted, as it writhed and tried to keep itself upside down, so its wrongly placed head could keep locked on the selenite that was touching it.

Another soft eeeee came from it, and finally it shoved its free legs into the stone beneath it, and stubbornly locked itself into place. Pincers clacked open and shut, and bright yellow eyes pleaded at the strange creature that was dragging it and like a toy.

@V-Selenite-One

Elsewhere, a labradorite chrysalis had broken hours prior. Amniotic fluids mingled with oily byproduct had spilled out with the neonate inside. Alpha'd conjured up shards of glass to corral the synthy-sounding spawn while it waited for the Leviathan's stone to break, but that turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. For one, the floppy labradorite was flopping about senselessly, squirming for the water - the orthoclase figured it had an affinity for it considering its stone-giver. It wasn't about to risk losing the little thing to Cetus, though. For another, the oily chrysalis wasn't hatching.

With no spare hands, Alpha held its spawn in its mouth much like a crocodilian mother. Its head was sticking out the side, sitting perfectly between two hooked teeth. The orthoclase dug a somewhat sizable trench around the oilslicked stone to catch the child in, lingered for about half an hour longer, and started the trudge back to Tunnel P.

By the time it arrived, both of its spawn'd emerged and the one was haranguing the other with its four hands. Better than two. The latter was making a number of alarmed noises and scrabbling to be let go, insectoid jaws clattering loudly. Toxic eyes barely glanced at Vargas (aware as it was of his presence) as it squatted and deposited all of the labradorite on the ground. It grunted once and gave the goo-covered baby a pointed nudge in the direction of the other spawn.

Alpha backpedaled a few paces and sat down. It glanced sidelong at Vargas as a... sort of what now? gesture. Neither of them had brought fruit, nor had they really interacted with such young, clumsy things. The orthoclase spat a little, and licked its mane a few times to smear the labradorite-residue off of its tongue. It gazed back at the spawn. Was it supposed to do something? Or just... watch? Oversee?

Its head turned slightly towards Vargas again.
@V-Labradorite-One @Vargas (for whenever!)

The young Labradorite wasn't very pleased, to say the least.

It's instincts had urged it to head for deep water, to hide within the murky depths of the swamp. And it HAD, though it's top-heavyness and general newborn flailing had made it rather easy to stop. It had slammed it's snout angrily into glass shards multiple times, making angry crocodilian chirrups the entire time. Mud mixed with oily byproduct and amniotic fluids, creating a truly gross mess.

It calmed near instantly when the Orthoclase scooped it up. The urge to find water was overridden by the feeling of being protected by it's parent. The chirrups continued, but were less panicked and angry and more friendly, happy little noises. It was fairly still, content, as Alpha continued with it's business.

By the time they arrived in Tunnel P, the neonate was rather restless. It squirmed, even more so as it heard the sounds of it's siblings. It inelegantly flopped onto the ground, flippers and legs alike flailing around for a few moments before finding purchase in the dusty floor. It squeak-chirruped as the Orthoclase nudged it.

Six curious crimson eyes focused on its siblings. It bumbled forward, leaving slimy footprints in it's wake. It focused on the smaller, bipedal creature- because the insectoid creature seemed to be in distress, or because the smaller one would be an easier target?

It clumsily lunged forward, loosing balance as its snout and neck slammed into the much smaller gembound. It let out some affectionate, friendly chirrup-cooing noises as it half nuzzled, half squished it's sibling. It'd boop the Zoisite with it's snout a well. Everyone gets some goopy Labradorite love!

@V-Selenite-One @V-Zoisite-One

Vargas was observing them, trying to get an idea of their potential, when Orthoclase-Alpha returned. He glanced at it, and gave it a grunt. He was about to speak when it spilled the Labradorite onto the floor; and that one was interesting. Vargas fell silent for a moment longer, observing it, and then nodded. "They look good. I still find it difficult to gauge... growth; that wasn't a factor in my time. But so long as they are decently large they will be useful to the nest."

He pushed up. Vague weariness was showing in his features, but he moved and spoke no more slowly than usual. "I presume that mine has not yet hatched..? I will go and find them food. You must introduce yourself, explain their situation as best they will understand it, and-..." And what? What else was there, with children? Vargas had been going to say something along the lines of 'establish yourself as their Overseer,' but they were too young to comprehend that, weren't they?

He shook his head. "Mm. Just keep an eye on all of this until I return with something for them to eat."

He looked over them, for a moment. The Labradorite and the Zoisite would almost certainly be carnivorous; but the Selenite?

"Do you know what the Selenite would eat?" he asked, at length, studying it.

@Orthoclase-Alpha (mostly for visibility)

inserting myself rq so vargas can Go Off

The labradorite blundered forwards into the group of spawn, diving for one in what Alpha assumed to be an attack. It was... clumsy, at best. Toxic eyes stared blankly for a moment, watching the now-trapped selenite squeal and squirm, tiny pearly whites exposed to the world. At least they looked good. (The orthoclase nodded mutely in response.) It was just a matter of training them and hoping they were up to snuff.

That, and any failures not occurring. Perfection was expected, required. No pressure. They could perhaps be used to combat the Ursa guardian, if given enough time. It'd be a good test of their strength, anyways. Others could take their place in the event of shortcomings.

Alpha shifted as the Leviathan stood, watching his movements out of the corner of its eyes. "No, not yet. I'll go back once these are..." it grumbled lowly. Once they were... whatever. Settled in? Indoctrinated? It struggled to think back to its own hatching. Vargas hadn't even given it its designation. The knowledge of what it was and what its purpose was had come too early to remember a time before it knew. That was almost tragic to think about.

Vargas'd been fairly uninvolved with their rearing, too; no fault to him for that, singlehandedly trying to get a grasp on the Caves. That's what the orthoclase was for - his Overseer. Acting in his stead. There's the goal to focus on when it wasn't watching over the Lord's chrysalis or Tunnel P as a whole. Two was gone (dead or not, it didn't know) so that was one less thing to guard and look after.

It settled further into its seat, giving another nod for the hunt and - "meat, maybe." The selenite had a flattish face like its stone-giver, but a mouth full of sharp teeth. Alpha just hoped they wouldn't have to cut up food for those tiny jaws. Somehow, it thought the four-armed infant wouldn't do too great in the biting department. Or being mobile.

Once the master was gone, it resolved to just watch them and make sure they didn't... injure one another (too badly.)
@Vargas (for visibility)