Diot gently shook their head at Anselm, not knowing the sound that all spoke of- but he was trying to; honest. With excitement and possibly luck on his side he knew not what was being called out, the pull, the questions, the wailing that would soon strike through the gembounds assorted ears. No, Diot had no clue, still though he wanted to help. So he would reside beside the gembounds who also sought it out in their own unknow yet curious desires.

Diot had little power to aid in the darkness, but others worked together to seek it out with sight- regardless of the arguments that were behind him. He tilted his head slightly, eyes squinting just a tad as words from both Purity and Aetheral fought for his attention from the task at hand. Though what words he had listened to worried him. Chaos? Do we want to die? He did not like the way the small feline spoke- especially to the new friend who seemed terribly hurt-was she a dragon?- Wait- was she...pleading? To not listen- perhaps- perhaps then just maybe he shouldn't...

But Melinoe spoke up, speaking something of what is more dangerous... ignorance of a threat or understanding it...Diot could not say- he had lost a friend long ago due to such...and he still wasn't sure what path he had taken so long ago.... Diot glanced towards the darkness again, where everyone was so thoroughly focused upon- but something- someone?...whispered to him?

...don't touch that...

He sits back, away from the darkness now...still and unsure...He knows not what to think or rather what to do other than to leave- was it one of the others who had whispered to him? The one who pleaded? The one who is hurt? They are the only one who says not to listen and yet-before much could be done on Diot's side more arguments took root as tensions rose.

He takes a few steps back- not wanting to turn tail and run- but he would not be caught in any crossfire that was sure to boil over now. He would keep an eye on the hare, they were kind- as was the giant gembound who was possibly a dragon? She too seemed kind.

Diot shuffled over to Aethereal, if only slightly to try and speak to her. He was unsure- how much his words would mean but- he would try not to listen like the others- but he would listen to her; she seemed to know. That much was clear in her voice above those who seemed stricken with greed and curiosity alike.

He spoke up, hoping she would hear; head turned up towards her if only by a little.

"I will not listen- but I will listen to you...chaos is not good- for anything or one..."

That was all he could speak- thinking back on times where chaos, much unknown had turned friends into fiends- misunderstood and now lost to the caves and to him. He decided then that he would have a commitment to them both- the dragon and hare; in this tunnel now. To try and keep them safe and in health during this trying time. He just hoped no fight would arise...

(small interaction with @Aethereal !)

Melinoe breathed. "I won't. The voice clamored louder, still; it seemingly was not reassured by such a promise, or perhaps... it was simply repeating itself, over and over. The thirty-some seconds of silence following was all the more deafening, then.

A spark of life seeped from the lion's stone, offered as a gesture of kindness—to liberate the stone from its apparent half-broken and -withered prison. It showed no indication of having received it except its abruptly cutoff howling. Any of those in the alcove would hear (or... not hear) it fall still.

Gemstone crackled, but it was not to form the protective shell of a neonate. No, no... the epidote shifted as if it were some sort of parasite or errant limb attached to the crown of monster wielding His magic. It writhed in place, and suddenly it grasped for Melinoe's skull with a needle-pointed... almost root.

It was not a particularly long extension, but with the lion curled about the skull, it was enough. The susurrus clamored back into action. Melinoe would hear it loudest, clearest in its ear-shattering frequency and reaching for the gemstone upon his forehead.

DON'T LEAVE ME (REMOVE) ALONE. (THE FLESH.)

@Melinoe

The whispered clamored louder and louder still, panicked cries repeating over and over. The half a minute or so of silence was even more deafening. Had it hurt it, somehow? Had his want to help actually done the opposite? It needed company. Needed him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

The crack of gemstone made his ear perk, gaze snapping to the skull as the crystal growing upon it. It shifted, as if alive. Twisting and cracking and growing until it snapped towards him, causing him to scramble back in shock. But the urging, begging whispers after stopped him in his tracks.

DON'T LEAVE ME (REMOVE) ALONE. (THE FLESH.)

REMOVE THE FLESH.

He could. He thought, slowly lowering his skull towards the reaching tendril of Epidote. And he would.

"I want to live." Purity's hiss came loud, angry, with bared teeth and pin-prick eyes.

His breath rattled as he twisted back to Aethereal, teeth gritted in a bare hiss. He studied her, for just a brief moment, before hissing out a quick "Fine. Fine, I have no control over how you decide to live. But do not tell me what is right or wrong for myself. I will decide that for myself." How could a dragon be- what, begging for him to not do this? Oh, that gave a spark of power to him, a delicious taste upon his mind, and he relished that.

He twisted his head, all interest dropped from Aethereal. There was nothing else she could do to him, and he turned aside, watching others follow him into the crevice.

What was there, Purity curled a lip up at- all this for some skull? "You're dead. You should stay dead," he muttered under his breath, his back beginning to faintly arch. Except- violence. His head twisted to Hecate, and his mouth dropped open as he pressed against the crevice's wall, staring wildly into Hecate's sightless eyes. Chaos was at work here, and Purity's head turned to the skull once more, licking his lips gently.

One ear flicked back, followed by minty eyes, turned to Diot. He would not address that. Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, Purity shut them and drew his head up, letting out a long huff.

The lion was doing something. One eye peeked open to watch, then the other, as he stood and watched... Whatever they were doing.

What were they doing? He jerked back at the reach, faint surprise taking over his expression. How interesting. He only let out a soft, one-note laugh when the lion went back in, allowing it to- what? Potentially kill him?

Purity was prepared to enjoy this show.

Mephistopheles

The large lion had been stunned- and his light had flickered out when he'd been thrown by that ratty, scraggly, uppity... thing. Into the rocks.

He'd needed a moment to catch his breath, ribs protesting the deep breath, and he is able to get out a few seconds of a rumbling, rolling snarl before the sudden hum of silence makes him silence himself.

What- what did Melinoe do?

Mephistopheles wonders, offering Hecate one last sharp, dagger laced glare and a mental promise to pluck her clean at some point, and he attempts to squeeze in close enough to eye the now moving, disgustingly living crystal that reminded him of the stingers of some of the Lessers around the caves with it's pointed structure.

With a sudden racing crack of awareness ruffling his fur along his spine as it collides with his mind, he is barely able to get out a- "It'll kill you-" as he swipes both his forepaws at once, in an attempt to shove Melinoe's face from the stinger. Does he want to see what will happen? Yes. Is he... feeling his skin crawl in an unkindly and almost urging fashion, in a way to encourage him to give in? Oh, very yes.

But an instinct for life is trying one last time to save the first lion he's met in ages, someone else possibly like him, who isn't insufferable and condescending in their attempts to shape him.

@Melinoe

He stood, almost holding his breath. Expectant, waiting for something to finally happen.

He didn't think that something would be two paws meet his face in a rough, undignified shove. Mephistopheles's just barely choked out words are drowned out by the ambient whispers lacing his mind and more than that, sheer surprise.

He stumbled back in an attempt to keep his footing, fiery eyes flashing with anger at the interruption. What did Mephistopheles think he was doing? Was he trying to take the skull for himself?

"What was that?" He growled, taking a couple steps forward to stand almost protectively over the skull. "I was going to-" He faltered, taking a single step back. What had he been doing? It seemed so important and right only a couple moments before.

He watched, that's all he could do at the moment...there was no use to argue with those who had made up their mind. Well- Diot would normally argue with that thought but...if someone had their mind set upon an action for whatever reason it would be hard to change their path... let alone multiple gembounds. So he waited till he was needed, meeting the feline's eyes for the briefest of moments till the cat's attention went elsewhere. He would not argue with them, they wanted to live their life- and so long as they were not attempting to spread chaos to those who wished no part in such matters well that was fine by him.

He watched the feline depart and join the others crowded around- well something of interest. The tamarin hardly blinked as they watched them all with curiosity and interest. A possible fight upon the horizon- at least well otherwise it was... going fairly well. It wasn't until he heard "You're dead. You should stay dead," did he begin to worry again. Who did they say that to? Why? Would there be more fights? Would everyone attack the antlered owl? He did not know...but she sought nor asked for help- but still he watched; waiting. Gaze flickering between the various gembounds, what would happen next?

He remained seated upon the ground, tail curling around and over himself as if a scarf. Shortly after the lion had righted themselves everything seemed to happen rather quickly. The small cat jerked back, and one lion bowed their head?- wait- what was that!? It was fast- was it- what were they standing over? What were they doing!?

Before Diot could get closer- or attempt to help, the bowing lion was pushed back by the other; away from something dangerous? Diot hopped a little closer, eyes trying to catch a glimpse- Melinoe was standing over it- questioning why-wait... was that a skull!?

It was dangerous...he could feel it- that chill down his spine where fur rose; something waswrong...this is what the voice meant when it said ...don't touch that...

It was a swindler- it beckoned the others with what he did not know. But it was so hastily driving them wild, they were in danger! So he would speak up- try to warn them all just as the voice had previously whispered to him. He spoke clearly and calmly, just as he always had. He just hoped they would listen to reason, when it was so apparently obvious this was not normal.

"We shouldn't touch that-its dangerous- it's...there something's wrong!- And- are you okay?"

He hopped a bit closer now, gaze flickering over both lions; if any of them were hurt he would assist them. It was one of his purposes after all.

"I wouldn't suggest trying. I won't be as tolerant next time." The reply was clipped, indifferent, but the owl-creature wasn't holding still. She'd studied the one shape moving--foolishly, she thought--for the stone, and wondered if she'd have to toss a second lion, but the first one moved to block it back. "You have it-?" she asked, and when it was clear that Mephisto did, added a "Good."

Melinoe was safe, then; that freed her up to do other things.

Perhaps... unwise things, but time would tell, on that.

A flutter of wings closed the last of the gap, half-blind eyes searching for the now-silent stone. That's an irritant. To Melinoe's brief argument--and to the conversation ongoing between all of them, as a whole--Hecate responded, but as she glanced toward Diot, she realized she couldn't really see what the primate was. "That one," is what she settled on, "is right. I don't recommend touching it." And then Hecate--approaching from the other side--immediately disregarded her own advice and did just that: reached out one black-taloned but creamy-feathered foot to lightly grasp the epidote.

Magicka flickered out--an attempt to look (without her physical eyes; and what an addiction that was, seeing in color and true, sharp shape) into this stone's past, and see just what it had been up to.

There was so much aggression going around it made her head--uh, brain (wherever it was) hurt. It was, appropriately, rather chaotic. And whether she liked it or not, Purity had a point. Wasn't that what she'd wanted too? To be able to decide her fate for herself?

He might be wrong. They might all be making a terrible mistake. Or it might not be that bad, at least for them. It wasn't her job to be an overbearing babysitter—that was the exact opposite of what she wanted to be and how she would want to be treated. She had neither the right nor ability to take the choice away and set them on another path. It was, after all, their own lives. Their own mistakes to make.

At least Diot would not go down the path of chaos. And she had not forced him to choose that—he'd decided it for himself. This was all she could do. Maybe she should have even done less. She shouldn't interfere.

Aethereal retreated from the crowd with a regretful rumble, continuing on her way.

- exit

"You're dead. You should stay dead." Purity muttered, and the skull gave no response but the continued wailings of desperation—as completely ordinary bones were wont to do.

Ah, but the epidote was reaching for Melinoe, seeking as it crawled along its singularly-focused path; it diverted itself only briefly as massive forepaws struck the lion's face away, and only for the proximity of another body, another piece of flesh to reach for. Melinoe stood over the skull, and the crackling tendril clambered upward, closer, CLOSER. The clamorings shrieked as they did.

But, it had all but slowed to a stop, inches shy of a foreleg; and yet, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE rattled incessantly in the lion's skull. Begging, beckoning, yearning. Agony, horrific, desperation.

Hecate would find that the stone did not simply budge with her touch, rooted solidly in place.

And, at first she would find herself with a familiar sight: suffocating darkness. The sound of cracking and peeling earth and shifting of stone rumbled around her, and there was a sensation of moving, but it was never short of claustrophobic until—at last, there was light. But, still, she was confined, choking on an ever-intensifying agony that refused to release her. THE FLESH IS WEAK.

Something snuffled against her glassy-cool surface, and then something squealed with a muted pop! DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE. Hecate got the sense of dragging something close, close, close until it was settled snug. DON'T LEAVE ME. DON'T LEAVE ME. DON'T LEAVE ME. DON'T LEAVE ME—

A deafening roar drowned out whatever other sight the owl-beast could have been afforded, bringing her to startlingly dark and vague reality once more. If she had even desired it, though, Hecate could not simply step away from the calamity; glossy green-black stone gripped at the feathery talons set upon it. It cracked and popped as it tried to envelop the appendage, tendrils oh-so-slowly following the curve of bone and muscle.

terribly sorry for the wait!
@Melinoe @Purity @Mephisto @Diot @Hecate