EMRYS
and from here you look like ants in a row

Emrys had been the first to find Fornax. They knew, reasonably, their siblings would not be far behind. Even then, it didn’t stop the swell of childish pride that rose in their chest. They were still young, after all, and they still had a lot to learn. But they had found Fornax, by themselves, with no hints and help other than the sense that had told them just where they were. A part of them, still restless and curious, wanted to bound their way to the middle of the room.

But they let themselves have patience, even if it was more of a bother than they had expected. Feline paws pulled them through mild water, eyes flashing like a jewel as they sat on an island and waited. For what, they weren’t sure. But they would find out soon enough.

@Tsetse @Hjalmar

Hjalmar scuttered behind Emry's like a centipede, grumbling to themselves as they followed, tired.

he listened to his surroundings, half drowned out by the exceedingly excited whispers of corruption. they wooped and cheered, they were finally where they needed to go, for whatever reason.

they skittered up to emry's, sitting on a warm rock, looking around, waiting, looking at the waters of eridanus patiently and anxiously.

wait! wait! we must wait! our purpose, purpose, purpose!

Hjalmar nodded to them in response.

SNAKE TONGUE, SPLIT AND BITE

Tsetse brings up the back, trailing behind his siblings. He looks lost in thought; the dull, trailing glow of his eyes seem dim, and the steady rattle-click of his vents are soft, barely audible over the lapping sound of waves.

The caves are—well, there's simply no other way to put it but *fascinating.* So full of life, of wonder; if he wasn't so focused on following Emrys to Fornax, following the tug towards it he can feel in his soul, he would have stopped and watched a while. Maybe even caught one of the critters that scurried through the leafy undergrowth as they wandered through the cave of flora; he'd love to see it struggle…

...ah, but he'll have the time to do that later. For now—for now, he follows his family, the pleasantly warm water lapping at his ankles, and then his knees, and then his chin; the latter of which making him swim instinctively, steam collecting at the surface of the water and trailing behind him.

The warmth is… almost a little too much. He finds his breaths coming heavy and sweat beading on his forehead; as he settles alongside his siblings, stretching out upon the island sand, he tries to put a name to this sensation.

Voices, rising up from the back of his head, do it first. Fever, they murmur to him, knowingly. Spread it.

The urge is tantalizing, really, but he shoves it aside in favor of staring off into the middle distance and simply contemplating the sensation. He will act on it later—right now, he will wait, patiently, for something to happen. His family were called here for a reason…

@Emrys @Hjalmar

So at last they had come: and here she came, a rising mass breaking the churning seas, ocean froth boiling away beside her. The click and thrust of long, pointed legs, the beady chartreuse eyes gleaming, staring, rage and hunger in them. Her shell, misshapen, malformed, pocked with wear and ancient scars; the pincers, the maw, lined with jagged ridges.

She was a monster, in all her glory: massive and violet-pink, gleaming with malevolence. But she was not here to harm them--oh, no, not these; not her creations. No: she was here to greet them. Flanking her came two leviathans, creatures of half-glimpsed tentacles wreathed in shadow, but these remained submerged where Farina raised herself for her creations to see.

Here, she examined them.

Emrys: oily black, glorious in its Corruption-hewn beauty. The face between the protective bloom gazed with intelligence. Thoughtful, this one: curious. This was good. The next, Hjalmar, the serpent: each hook-clawed limb as if dipped in ink, all lean muscle and wicked spines. Perfect. And Tsetse, the steed: power and speed, the twinning of patience and ferocity.

Never mind that she had been boiling for eons: now, at last, she was free. And now, at last, she would begin her work.

"I HAVE CREATED YOU," she began, harsh voice rasping from within the shell. "YOU WILL SERVE ME, AS I SERVE. FREED FROM MY PRISON, YOU ARE MY FIRST CREATIONS! YOU WILL HELP ME. I HAVE BEEN TRAPPED. BETRAYED. KEPT IN THE HEAT FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS!" Did this cry hold rage in it? Horror? It held intensity, at least. Farina continued. "I AM FARINA. YOU," and those eerie eyes on their strange stalks swivelled to look at Emrys. "WERE EACH CREATED TO HUNT, AND KILL, A MASTER." Claws ran over jagged maw, as if the great Cancer master briefly lost herself in thought. Or, perhaps, in planning. "YOU WILL USE YOUR STRENGTH, YOUR CUNNING, YOUR STEALTH, TO FIND AND KILL THE ONE THEY CALL JUPITER. SHE IS VERY DANGEROUS. DO NOT LET HER SEE YOU COMING. SHE IS A SMALL THING, WITH SIX LIMBS, A FLAT FACE. SHE MAY NOT BE EASY FOR YOU TO FIND. BUT SHE IS A TRAITOR."

Next, Farina looked to Hjalmar. "YOU WILL FIND THE MASTER CALLED NEMEAN. SHE CAN FLY: YOU CAN CLIMB. FIND HER IN HER NEST, OR IN HER SHOWS: SHE IS SMALL, BUT LOUD. SHE WILL BASK IN ANY GLORY. DESTROY HER."

And last, to Tsetse, Farina lifted one claw; the massive pincer slammed shut with a clack as she spoke. "YOU WILL FIND TAMULUS. HE OF TWO LEGS, OF FAIR SKIN, OF WINGS. RUN HIM DOWN, OR USE YOUR POWER TO CRUSH HIM FROM AFAR. BUT DESTROY HIM." She looked over the three again, their tasks now granted to them. "THEY ARE TRAITORS! WE WILL RETAKE THIS CAVE! WE WILL MAKE IT SAFE AGAIN."

And this... This meant that she could move on. Move on, to more important things.

______________

Emrys, Hjalmar and Tsetse have been tasked with ensuring the destruction of Jupiter, Nemean and Tamulus, respectively. How and if they choose to make these attempts are up to them. Farina will remain available in Fornax for contact, for now.

@Emrys @Hjalmar @Tsetse

Hjalmar listened. he listened as he looked up at the warm, boiling glory that was farina. extreme admiration and dedication welled up inside his every limb, and all he could do was listen. this was what they were here for. and he was being tasked with murder.


he was being tasked, by master farina, to kill another master. his siblings were aswell. this nemean character, apparently. kill her, kill her, kill her, kill her! the whispers chanted in excited fashion as if they were college kids chanting "chug chug chug" at some awful party. he considered this. she was small, and from the sound of it, egotistical. he would need a plan if he were to take her down, as he was small too, but that would be no issue. the problem is, he might need help. as 'full grown' as he mightve been he was still small and new. his abilities were not yet fully fleshed out. but he did not know who to ask. they were called masters, and if they were anything like farina, they had power. power hjalmar did not yet have, or, for better terms, did not yet have control over. magic churned and coiled at his insides like a hungry, destructive beast and he had little chance of calming it just yet.

he looked up to the master, HIS master, farina, with the toothiest grin in the caves. he could do this. he looked to his siblings. a nod, sharp, before he turned. he needed time to plan. "see you soon... siblings...." he growled in goodbye as he made his way out, plotting.

exit unless stopped.

SNAKE TONGUE, SPLIT AND BITE

He cannot help but stare—with awe and with respect—as a great shell breaks the waves. The creature that rises from the water, breaking the surface with heaving, churning white waves, is comprised of raw, crushing power. The kind of thing that could snap bone with little thought; the kind of thing that spoke of deflecting blows with sheer force alone.

His creator. He, too, cannot help but feel admiration for the Master that speaks to him—to all of them, his siblings created in turn. He has been created to fulfill a grand, important purpose. A purpose that sings to his very soul; to kill.

But killing another Master will be a goal he will not be able to accomplish easily. He can see it in the very strength of Farina, his own Master; to pierce that great shell would be nothing more than a feat in and of itself, to ambush those intense eyes a masterwork of patience and ambition.

But he will do it. For she is his master, his creator, and his blood sings with the thought of such a great kill. He will grow his power, he will plot and plan and train, and he will seek this 'Tamulus' out and break his spine before his hooves.

This is his purpose, and so it shall be.

"I will fulfill this purpose," he pledges to the great crab with a dip of his head, and then, to the siblings beside him, one full of fire already crawling away; "And I, too, will see you soon."

Sooner, rather than later, hopefully.

As he turns to go, hooves dipping into the warm water once more, he already misses them.

;exit unless stopped