@Sora @Morganite @Pumpkin all you, fellas (+ @Ashtoreth for visibility!)
again, skippable reading; damask plays along with ash and dismisses the spell, that's it, that's the post
(note for sw: i'm not forgetting charles! he is a good boy and damask will react to him along with his sibs in the next round)

and now, back to our regularly scheduled programming, undisrupted, uninterrupted. as you'll recall, this was a bonebound meeting for bonebound business. one by one, auré addressed those who had spoken, carrying out his due diligence. for damask, he had nothing more than a split-second of eye contact — blink-and-you-miss-it, just how she liked it. smile, frown, squint. rough translation: just checking in; are you doing all right? the unspoken question shouldn't have startled her as much as it did. restraining herself, she answered with a tip of her chin: why, yes, of course. by all means, continue.

but here, her father was forced to acknowledge a very special corner of the crowd ... the one she was holding ever-so-carefully in total, tranquil silence. like any living thing, the spell required maintenance: a partition of the skull, plus a steady flow of heat, feeling, concentration. damask had the fuel to spare. unfortunately, the corner had already said its piece, and auré, being auré, conjured and delivered a gracious response. he was tensing up again, wavering and backtracking as he explained (too gently) just how wrong that corner really was. the words in his mouth were self-evidently distressing, and they came out tight, made damask's feathers prick with agitation. still, he sounded better by the time that he'd finished. the survivors had his condolences, along with an offer. no way a certain two of them were going to accept it, but it might pacify them, nonetheless. (there it is. that's their chance.) she loosened her magic, if only a little. now, would they fight, or would they take the damn hint ... ?

"whoever's doing that, let go — let them speak."

ah. heads were beginning to turn. damask shifted onto one heel, glancing levelly over her shoulder. (ohhh, yeah.) there they were, the big tourists, struggling and swimming, nice and cozy in their own personal pocket of pressure. divine justice. did anyone really want them back in the airspace? auré was stressed, giggle was outraged, and eythan was practically sizzling. (but ...) orders were orders, and so it was, with a heavy heart, that she —

... wait up. (ash — ?!) at a stir of motion in tawny and rust, the bird of prey's attention swerved over, horror dawning in the back of her head. she and her half-aunt had been signing together for cycles, but this was outright showmanship. anybody could've picked up what ash was putting down. it was me, loud and clear.

damask hadn't exactly ignored her, nor avoided her, and she absolutely hadn't hidden from her, but — (yeah, you sure about that?) okay, well, to be fair, ashtoreth was small and quiet and also out of view from where she was seated — (seriously?) ... so maybe there had been a little ... sort of ... blocking-out happening. maybe ash was like beautiful weather on a very bad day, and maybe damask had shied away from that sunlight, faintly afraid of what it might expose. but maybes aside, she definitely did not want ashtoreth taking this bullet for her. frustration burned red-hot in her throat. it could've been a perfect play. no targets; no gunfire. there was a reason she'd done it like a sniper.

(but hey, what, are you gonna come out, come clean? you? hah. what's one more, liar?)

measure by measure, she allowed her magic to expire, letting the tourists out of their trap. yet, her accipitrine eyes shone like daggers, unblinking, unflinching. so they'd suffered; so they cared about family. they weren't the only ones.

strong language

graphic themes

Morganite didn't notice that she was suddenly unable to move or speak. Not until she saw Sora struggle out of the corner of her eye. She tried to turn and ask her what was the matter, before she realized that she too, was caught in the invisible snare. Panic fell over her like a weighted blanket, phantom claws grabbing at her mouth and body like they had to her siblings.

Big, wide eyes opened bigger and wider, green flashing in the light as she struggled, vaguely hoping that somebody noticed as she tried to break free, muscles tensing against the magic. She ripped free suddenly and toppled over into Sora's side with an embarrassing squeal, having missed the important words that Charles had spoken, having missed Ashtoreth who'd plead guilty, not even the words that came out of Aure's mouth.

Blinded, deafened, she flailed, trying to get back onto her feet. She managed to roll onto her belly and staggered up, shaking like a leaf, sweat dripping from her brow. Her chest heaved and she had to sit down, claws digging into the dirt as she struggled to calm herself down.

"Don't... fucking... touch. Me."

Green eyes stared in the direction of the other Bonebound, ears pinned and body shaking, "Don't... don't touch me. Don't touch Sora. Don't touch any of them again."

She looked half-crazed, breaths shaky and barely aware of where she was looking, only that her eyes rested on everyone for a moment, Ashtoreth, Eythan, Damask... Kerberos, Giggle. None of them were innocent.

Directly addressing: Auré, Eythan, Kerberos, kind of Giggle.
Kind of addressing: Morganite and Ashtoreth; relevant for Damask.


When Sora had realized magic had been cast on her, she'd been about to go feral. It would have been the temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums -- her sights were immediately set on Auré and Giggle, who were the only ones she reasonably assumed knew magic... but then Auré made it clear it wasn't him, that he didn't endorse what was happening, and her eyes narrowed violently on Ashtoreth once the spell was finally released. She pressed her pelt against Morganite's, knowing her sister needed the comfort. She'd be there to provide it.

Her blood still boiled as Sora looked at Ashtoreth witheringly. It was taking everything in her power to not tear them to pieces, but she held herself together. Barely. But then, her eyes rounded on Eythan. "This loud bird! Not three minutes ago! What?" She sounded absolutely baffled. "The first words out of his mouth were 'Bonebound and Gembound'. Did I-- am-- what? Either I'm going crazy or you're going deaf, because we were explicitly invited just like you were." But she sighed and glanced at Kerberos. "But Morganite didn't mean 'his spawn are nasty'," she didn't think, "although the one with six legs definitely tried to kill her. She meant that... well, what Charles said. We were created, too. If the Masked Merchant can make us and feed us to a monster, why would his allies be any different? I think her point is that there must be something he plans on using them for."

She sagged, looking a little defeated. Anger took so much energy, and she had so little. "Young... is a good way to put it. What Charles said is true. We're only four cycles old. All we ever knew was a tiny, gray cave just big enough for all of us to breathe in and the Masked Merchant coming by to bring us food and water. All we've ever had is each other." She shrugged. "I believe what you say about Astraea. But all we're saying is, don't trust them. If you do..." Sora grimaced, "your kids might be next."

Pumpkin didn't like the drama. he didn't like his family airing out their grieving to the world, as if any of them had a single right to know. as if any of them had a right to know what any of them were going through.

his family had become suffocating. he loved them oh so dearly but every day was a reminder that 4 of their dear family is dead and gone and they can't even go find them yet. there wasnt a day it didnt come up, surround him and try to snuff out any hope of moving on. he could feel them breaking with every day, and he hated it.

he had been silent for the whole meeting. he'd been letting them talk, as much as he hated listening to it over and over, as if their deaths were a bragging point, but now, he'd speak. and his entire body shook with what he was about to say as if they were beads being shaken in a rattle. as he flew away from his perch, closer into the crowd with only an apologetic glance to his family, he spoke.

"i-i would like to join, too! i-i want to help, and protect people, i dont know alot of magic but i can learn!" he called out. he didn't know if that was enough, enough justification or apology for his mere presence here.

[pumpkin is mainly addressing @Aure and @Giggle ! though his family is free to react to him leaving them whenever they can post]

Nemo

The amount of conflict rising around the circle makes him uneasy, makes his stone-dust grey feathers rise along his shoulders and neck as he side-steps hastily away from the loud and younger group. He keeps one blood red eye focused on the circle at large as he angles his beak towards the group, and would offer a soft smile towards the small bird who pipes up and wishes to fight, if he had lips.

Giggle, the hyenah, the Seer, and Aure, the king's response to him, he feels useful, and so he nods along, and tilts his head in consideration, one folded wrist worrying at the bauble around his neck. "Asking others seems like a good idea, I fully agree... but uh. The issue I'm feeling is that right now, we don't know how much danger they'll be in against the golem of Draco verses a smaller one..."

But... Giggle's question. Same kind of question he has, to be quite frank. Notably, after her scolding of the others making his feathers down his shoulders ruffle further and forcing him to clear his throat and make a mental note of the perilous spot he'd be in if he made her angry.

"I don't usually live here, if that's what you're asking ma'm, but that question is most of the reason I came into Canis and.. well, followed you guys here. I'd never seen so many other Gembound who looked alike, together, let along anyone who looked more like me than another bird."


Pumpkin's family and panic, he can... sort of understand, being flung about and possessed by something far greater than your control can really mess someone up, but he admires the tiny one for his tenacity and so he offers his beakish smile, a slightly open wing to hide near if the others so wished. He was slightly scared of their behavior, yes, but in the end, pain is pain, and the only thing Nemo knows to offer is a sheltering wing like Glory had when he had first come about.

The magic being used on others, however, made some of his own flare only slightly, and so he uses it to keep himself calm and relatively put together - how this goes is up to the dice, but the worst that happens is nothing more than a small breeze like someone had flapped their wings.

As more Gembound spoke and finally, the small bird flew forward and away from his family to speak his mind, Nemo realizes with a jolt that he's... kind of in the same boat as this other one when it came to magic.

"You and I can practice together, then, and if we have a teacher then even better," he attempts to offer in a reassuring tone, one wing still loose against his side and ready to move should the other want or need to hide there.

@Pumpkin
@Giggle
@Aure

Aure… wished there was a voice in his ear; to tell him exactly what he needed to do or say (that wasn't outright violence) to quiet down these strangers. They weren't Bonebound no one had been informed of. Just… complete strangers that had thought it was their moral imperative to come here and overwhelm the whole crowd.

Giggle had part of it handled, at least — rounding on the pronghorned creature and correcting them on her own words. There was some nasty little part of him that wanted to lash out because his own ilk were, in a way — he was always the reactive sort — but, the part winning out was his pervasive sense of needing to fix things, keep everyone happy. He couldn't… like this. Ashtoreth (he fully believed in her ruse) relinquished her grip on the silencing magic, and…

… Caves, he wished he hadn't ordered it.

The black bird started rattling off the dirty details of the Trial, listing every face that perished there, remorseless even as the Bone King forced himself to raise his voice and call, "you can stop there," after the description of a snake. Aure swallowed, tried again. Still, the bird talked louder, kept going. Magicka welled up like a hurricane still-forming over the ocean blue. The walls drew nearer and nearer… but he was frankly almost too exhausted to keep feeding that. The pig seemingly ignored all that he'd said and kept on about trust in the Masters and — the young King just wanted to retreat. Shut down.

But, he'd be failing in his position. He couldn't call himself King if he was unwilling to keep to his guns; and he'd given them permission to speak further. That was entirely on him, even as Eythan bristled down below, eyes staring balefully through him. Aure said lamely, "I never said that we trusted them or will trust them. Please, don't put words in my mouth."

Dulled eyes flickered to Nemo and Pumpkin, then, nodding slowly, "if you wish to be Bonebound, then I would be glad to keep you." Kind. Willing to listen. Willing to be one of their own. Aure's head tilted to regard the other three newcomers, and he hesitated for far too long — his gut was churning in a most unpleasant way, and he suddenly found him hyperfocusing on keeping himself steady on the precipice.

... please hold while I post Eythan! It's important, I swear.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

death

strong language

"This loud bird," Eythan scoffed under his breath, bright eyes widened, baffled — he rounded back on the pig. "You're out of y'fuckin' mind if y'think 'Bonebound and Gembound!' is permission to come in 'n bitch about the Powers that Be. No single 'bound here invited y'to show up 'n publicly put us all on the moral spot w'this shit." Bright eyes were narrowed with such an intensity that he might be willing them to cook some bacon. "Like, damn! That feels bad — really shitty of that t'happen to happen y'guys, but you're the ones that showed up completely uninvited to overwhelm our fuckin' meeting."

His beak clacked, completely disgruntled. Aure was a sweet kid, but he knew the kid would never even think to call these tourists out on their bullshit. The young King had no strength in that regard only; and he'd only gain it through times like these, terrible as that was. It just wasn't in his nature. Eythan's, however… that was a pillar of his being — lunging at any perceived threat. Not to any degree of his yet-unknown grandchild, but his tongue was quick, sharp, defensive. It always seemed best to nip trouble in the bud. This'd already blossomed into a malignant weed, and — "... a tall, six-limbed creature with chitinous plates, two tails, and a beard…" Aure's calling, being talked over, ignored — the gryphon was suddenly so pissed he could hardly stand it.

All that shit for the sake of a sick kick? Some fucking thrill in weaponizing the death of others? The death of my DAUGHTER?! Eythan's tail lashed, and he let go of every bit of restraint with that gut-punch realization. His eyes stung, his throat swelled, but like hell would he let that stop him from advancing. Claws tore at the stone, and he threw caution to the wind with his starting statement: "all of you, shut the fuck back up."

If any of them so much as tried to talk, he'd raise his voice and shout over them until he was done. May as well show them all about as much respect as they'd shown the King.

"We fuckin' get it: oh, boo-fuckin'-hoo, the Masters are bad, the Merchant sucks, the Trials kill! You got made to die and now you get to live with that shit. Damn — that sucks! But, what sucks more… ? Finding out that your daughter you haven't seen in years is dead and finding it out from a complete fuckin' stranger, and that that stranger is putting her goddamn death at the end of a spear—!" Eythan's voice broke at that, and went shrill, "who the fuck do y'think y'are?! Some kind of asshole that just wants to stir up shit? Aure's never going to tell y'to straight-up get the fuck out, but you have no right to be totin' around all that — fuckin', shit! —" Where was he at… ? "— all that death and actin' like you're all good and holy for it."

He paused, if only to take a shuddering breath. "You're assholes. That's what y'are." The gryphon paced away, barely glancing at his brother as he stared in abject shock. "You came in here just to spout bullshit and throw a pity party. I'm not going to listen to it, I'm going to take every single fuckin' thing that comes at me, every shitty little thing I do — even this, maybe! — and I'm going to fuckin' swallow it because that's what you do. Y'don't just air out your shit for a bunch of strangers to hear because they're too nice to tell you to knock it the fuck off. Fuck you. Fuck you." Eythan aimed the last sentence at Charles, specifically.

"Quit jerking yourselves off or fucking leave," he finished, furious enough to forgo all his trademark shortenings. Eythan's limbs quivered with every bit of rage and grief as he sat back down. She's dead, my daughter's dead, I haven't seen her in years and she's DEAD —

... yeah.

I will post Aure/Eythan again on September 4th, regardless of who has or hasn't gone.

@Giggle @Sora @Morganite @Damask @Kerberos (Ashtoreth) @Charles @Nemo @Pumpkin ... and still any others interested in spectating or joining the Bonebound!
For Charles, Sora, and Morganite, please allow other Bonebound to post their reactions to prior posts before doing your own posts!

She remained attentive, struggling against that itching at the back of her mind, the whispering promise that it would all go wrong, that shadows were streaking in from the sidelines with their tendrils of chaos and death. She gritted her teeth against it, but her abrupt outburst as Eythan drew to a close was as much against this as the bubbling hostility, a hostility half-born of miscommunication, a hostility that could boil over into long-term resentment, or even violence.

"ENOUGH," she boomed, standing, slamming one paw down in emphasis: and from this rippled out a carpet of mushrooms, bright, glowing, a bioluminescent blue. It was hardly a threatening display, but it was attention-grabbing, as best she could: theatrical, though not as bright beneath the orb-light as it would have been in darkness.

Giggle paused for a fraction of a second, then, her dark eyes cutting to Aure as she took a breath, as if seeking permission. But she had no time to wait for it, and so she glanced back at the strangers.

"I am the Bone King's advisor, and I would like to have my say. Wait," she told the strangers, lest they charge off before she could speak; she hoped that they would listen. "I would not see victims become our enemies! We are not enemies. If you're children, as you said--not young, but raised in a small cave--then you might not understand the... the context of this meeting. We are a family; our meeting is about our business. While strangers are welcome to listen in, some of my family are... resentful, I think, at the interruption. It is like coming to a party, where everyone is invited, and holding a funeral." Do they know what those things are? I've no idea... I hope so, she thought, otherwise her words wouldn't make much sense. "But going to a party when someone just died, when there IS a funeral to be held, is hard. And you don't even have the bones to lay to rest. We understand that, and we've had it ourselves. We've lost members to the Trials before. I am not saying the Trials are all right! Or even that the Masters can be trusted, or that we should, right now. I'm saying that there is hostility here, that shouldn't be here, because you don't understand tact, and that's not your fault. Tact must not seem very important now, either, in the face of losing family!" she added, fiercely sympathetic. "I advise everyone to calm down. For the Bonebound to cover our topics, whatever we had come here for the Bone King to discuss. Perhaps this is a good lesson, Aure," she added, glancing to him--best to pull some positive from the negative--"Maybe we ought to open each meeting with an explanation that strangers, allies, can petition us for... Well, anything; that others can bring up their topics at the end of meetings, or at least after our own subjects are covered?"

She looked back to them, her eyes pegging Sora as their leader, pinning her down. "I know you might not have learned a lot, but should you all storm off now, that would be the childish response. What would be expected is... talking. Listening, learning. The Bonebound will help others where we can, but there's a way to go about that," Giggle explained. She then nodded to Aure, stepping back, sitting down. "That's my advice," she finished.

She had said nothing to Eythan, but she didn't need to; his words were his own to give, his free will his own and truth be told, she didn't blame him for lashing out. This meeting had rather fallen into shambles, but Giggle hoped they could get it back on its feet--rather than letting that lurking chaos drag it down, rip it apart, leave them thrashing in conflict and disarray.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

Nemo

The lammergeier was going to say... something, anything in response to Aure, a thank you for the offer but he's cut soundly short by the explosive tirade of pain from one of the group of children.

Nemo has no idea how to react other than to side step and flatten himself to the stone, offering a wing of protection to whoever may be near him (be they much larger or not) as he rests the knuckle on the stone and arches his primaries towards the sky, both wings and his ruffled feathers making him a relatively ineffective aegis against the bickering and raw emotion that ensues from the surrounding Gembound, but a well intentioned one none the less.

As the horned hybrid sits down, shaking in his fur and boiling inside, at least from what Nemo can see, he can't help his choice to get up and make his way over, or at least a little closer, staying a solid wingspan of his own away but hoping to offer some sort of silent support to the other in his distress.

Support from a stranger that knows nothing about the pain you're going through, but... it's all I can offer. I'm sorry...

Nemo's never been to a funeral, or a party, but with the way Giggle seems to be comparing them as opposites, he decides to ask after the meeting what each ones means and why they can't exist at the same time.

@Ethyan

ongoing silence and stiffness from damask. do emotions really count if you can't see 'em?
not trying to silence anybody this time — she's actually deafening herself to charles, morganite, and sora's dialogue

a new voice wrestled its way into the arena. charles. he began not with an objection or an argument, but with a number: twenty-three — twenty-three lives, to be exact, eleven of which had been snuffed out and subtracted. some individuals might've found the quantitative approach too much of an abstraction here; some individuals would've had difficulty conceptualizing oblivion; some individuals didn't die in their dreams. damask was not one of said individuals. (think he'll stop at just the math?) a shadowy sense of foreboding built in her stomach. (no. you know exactly where he's going.) cut over to auré, calling out to intercept the oncoming monologue. charles had made his point, he said, and weren't they all thinking that same thing? (maybe not all. but definitely you.)

here's the kicker: charles didn't listen. kept going, went louder, talked over auré when he was asked to stop once again. his loudmouth friends had been bound and gagged on similar charges, and yet here was this total brain-dead idiot, repeating their misdemeanor in the first felonious degree. these TOURISTS. her lip shivered over one, two, three teeth, a fraction of a snarl with a cold, hard glare to match. (starting to slip, damask. watch it.) she swung that over-the-shoulder angle around, shifted her weight onto both heels, and faced her father. he was not okay. hiding it well, but overwhelmed, verging on shutdown. (kind of like ... ?) oh, she could've screamed, and the threat of it felt like a sideways brick in her throat. charles's voice drilled into her skull, sent ghosts slithering through cortical hallways, death elevenfold. all of a sudden, she was acutely aware of her eyes glazing over — lungs going stale — rigor mortis encroaching all around her ...

(you phobic little — !!) (come on, look alive already!) (oh, damn it —)

how did breathing go again? like this? like that, which was also how magic went, and POP-POP-POP!: success. pressure crunched into her ears, stuffing them with atmospheric cotton. for a moment, silence ... then, the ring, ring, ring of tinnitus ... and finally, an underwater flux of sound. the effect was imperfect, incomplete, but muffling enough to give her the respite she needed. an aural river fought to break her sensory levee: what must've been the rest of charles's speech, followed by another, probably sora's, with something intense (she didn't want to know) in between. not a single word made it through. she could breathe again, and breathe she did, falling back into flawless composure, gazing up at her father as if any amount of willing it could've given him strength. when he spoke up once again, (and not a second sooner,) damask's spell thinned away, leaving static aching in her ears. she suppressed a wince.

of course the tourists had kept on about the masters; of course they'd put words into auré's mouth; and, of course, he was struggling. (sorry, kid. just because you didn't hear it doesn't mean they didn't talk.) she was feeling that heat again, restlessly resentful under her skin — and a certain uncle of hers was about to stoke it. "this loud bird"? had somebody (sora, definitely had to be sora) actually said that? about auré? her head didn't move, but her eyes tracked eythan from corner to corner, flashing with surprise and piquing intrigue. finally, somebody willing to preach at her father's pulpit. did she know this guy? (you do. you know his claws.) she shook that thought away. watched. listened. not so much as a flinch at the knives on his tongue; half of them could've been hers. (if only you weren't you.) he'd lost a daughter, and yet here he was, not crying, not running, not overcome with pain or with panic — tough, righteous, strong, turning grief into fury into action, tapping into nature's most renewable resource. "swallow it," he said, "because that's what you do" — (and how's it feel to hear that out loud, not just in here? that's what you remember today. that's what you take away.)

eythan put a real, shining light in her eyes. then: in the space of five words, giggle — her dear old grandmother, voice of reason, buzzkill extraordinaire — put it back out.

"any ideas?"

"... ████ ..."

(SWALLOW IT.)