Oliver woke in a jarring, confused manner when the stone that held him gave way in a sudden rush. He was spilled forth in the ejection of its contents, the thinning layers of stone finally collapsing, and he went from nothing--from comfortable darkness, from sleep--into gasping wakefulness, coughing, shivering and cold.

He hugged his forelimbs around himself as best he could, huddling, and turned to look around. What happened? he wondered, blinking. His gaze caught his chrysalis, then--the now-shattered remains of it--and he went still, staring.

Veins of purple and gold shimmered through the green-streaked black. His onyx--it'd taken on some of the--what was it? The Wishing Stone, he remembered, and now his waking mind began to churn into recognition. His gaze shot toward the stone: it was dormant, quiet, a small echo of the colors that had streaked his stone. My magic, he realized, and the memories came back to him in a rush.

He'd come to the stone, found it empty--dormant, asleep? Or--drained? And tried to help it. And his magic--it'd backfired.

Fear rose in him. Had he somehow taken on some of the... the rock? Had he become part Wishing Stone, somehow-? He hadn't truly understood the magic his father had passed on to him, and now-...

Now he remembered pain. He blanched, scrambling back a little, as though afraid of his chrysalis--and in a sense, he was. He remembered-... "My teeth," he breathed, blinking, and his birdlike forelimbs snapped up to feel frantically at his jaws. They were there, though--there were teeth in his jaw's sockets--and as he looked himself over he found everything where it should have been. Fur, feathers--it was all there.

My legs, though, he thought, staring for a moment. His hind legs were bigger--more muscled--proportionally. He pushed upright, tentative; he'd always been able to stand like this, like a bird. But now he felt... stronger, this way. It wasn't a lot, but it was a change, and he wondered why. As he stared down, too--settling his forefeet between his hind paws, comparing their new sizes--he noticed something else.

"My stone," he whispered, eyes widening in fear. In horror. That gift from his father--the one part of Black he had always carried--was... tainted. Its jet black, tinged with green, was like his chrysalis now marred through with shining bands of violet and gold. Afraid, he lifted both forelimbs--and tried, frantically, to wipe away the new colors with the birdlike toes of his other 'hand.'

They didn't come off.

They didn't come off.

What have I done!? he thought, terrified now, eyes shooting up to stare at the chrysalis.

And more memories--as if the rest weren't enough--now trickled in.

He'd been-... something else, in those moments before the stone had taken him. A--bird. He could be one again. He knew it, suddenly, instinctively. It'd hurt--like it had before--but he could do it. Was this the gift the stone had given him-? Maybe his backfiring magic--maybe he'd taken on some of its exhaustion, and in turn woken it up enough for it to grant his wish? But why a bird--and why had it hurt so much?

I had dreams, he remembered, suddenly. But even as his mind grasped for them, struggling to recall, he found them sifting away like sand through his talons. He remembered-... a flash of white. A--a burning stone, fleeting through a black place, a void full of sparks of similar burning white, but those had been distant, or tiny; this one had been immense. What did that mean? What did I see? He sat, dripping, shivering, pensive, and tried to remember.

He'd known, he was sure of it. He'd had--dreams about it. Visions-? He knew--he'd known what the comet was for. What it meant. He'd glimpsed--memories, or other scenes, or thoughts from a distant mind but he couldn't remember them, now. Only the faintest, farthest impressions.

"I wanted to help people," he whispered, still scratching absently at his own gemstone, eyes fixed upon his shattered chrysalis. That desire--deep, strong, a compulsion--rippled through his gut now, seizing in his chest. He had wanted to help others; he'd still have to, or none of this was worth--anything. That made sense, right?

-Still dripping, shaking, the bird-dog turned and looked wildly around Polaris. Wide eyes shot to every corner, searching, as if hoping to suddenly find someone in need of help. In need of any kind of help. Never mind food, water; those could come later; was there anyone here who needed him? That was his purpose, after all--self-given, Wishing Stone-reinforced: to be a Guardian, to help, to guide, wherever he could.

What was he, if he didn't look to that purpose first?

Oliver stumbled away from his stone, searching the dark, sending out his magic, even, to help him find someone he could aid.

"...Is there anybody out there?" he called, at last.

Anyone can join!

Several cycles had gone by since the Deathmatch and still, her sister Hunter, was... poorly. Often, he ignored her advice: when Vivilene told him to rest and take it easy, he would disappear to Caves-knows-where and return stiff, in pain, and try to grit his teeth through it. He would get angry-- no... just frustrated --when Vivilened fussed over him. Fussing, as Vivilene saw it, was the only way he'd get better.

He was stubborn. Vivilene was also stubborn. This made the last few months extremely taxing on them both.

Vivilene only wanted to help, but she was smart enough to realise that trying to help those who didn't want help was a fruitless endeavour-- she had wasted a great amount of time trying to help that Orthoclase, for instance, just for it to up and vanish without a word --and so, whenever she felt particularly sickened by Hunter's behaviour, she found herself wandering.

Nowhere in particular. Nowhen in particular-- sometimes overnight, sometimes weeks at a time. There was some twisted sense of nostalgia in it: to find shelter in the dark and nestle up against cave walls to sleep, to forage for sour-tasting fruits and chewy herbs when she awoke. She would stock up on fresh healing herbs while she was out, and when her mind was calm, she would return.

Not once, during her travels, had Vivilene willingly bumped into anyone she didn't know.

So, imagine her surprise when she heard the crackle of a chrysalis splitting open.

It had been several days ago, now, since she'd left-- she'd crept out of Gemini only a few hours earlier with her father's satchel hanging from the shoulder of her upper torso and snuffled quietly at shelves of mushrooms bathed in the cool light of the Spire, tired, but decidedly optimistic.

The healing properties of these fungi, Vivilene was not sure: and likely, would not find out as her mind drifted from foraging to the distant shatter that caught her ears. She knew it well, though she often associated it with the emergence of someone new rather than someone waking up after a rest.

And, well. Children made her nervous.

Her younger siblings were another matter: they were her responsibility, as eldest sister, but that was more than enough to fill her plate. Trying to pretend she could be an acceptable mother-figure to someone in their developmental stages was far too much for her. The thought made her sick to her stomach, in fact.

Vivilene began her tactical retreat-- that was, until a voice called out and she found her limbs locking up. They don't sound like a child, she considered quietly admist the faint sound of that someone scuffling and stumbling-- approaching, maybe?

The hybrid looked into the dark, and her ears flicked back. It was then that a small sphere of light formed-- pale, flickering like firefly light, and meandered lazily forward as she twisted her hooves and went padding towards the sound. It didn't take long in the slightest to find who was close by: the orb was soon casting a dim light over inky-black feathers and fur.

They didn't look like a child, either, Vivilene noted.

"Is something... wrong?" She choked, voice barely above a whisper-- barely even audible, under the faint thrumming of the Spire. "Um... hello. I'm-... I'm here."

@Oliver

The voice in the distance was quiet, at best--nearly a whisper, even, and if Oliver's tufted ears hadn't already been straining for a voice--any voice--he might not have heard it at all.

The bird-dog scuffled forward, and his approach might have been alarming had he not been who he was, with the demeanor he always held: wide-eyed, submissive, his ears flattening across his chest and his hindquarters nearly touching the ground. He practically bowed as he came in sight of Vivilene and drew closer, his expression one of keening worry.

That sense that he'd always held, the desire to help others, had taken him over, had eclipsed all other thought, and it was almost desperation that drove him to crouch before her. His soft voice was gentle as ever, but the wet still clung to his feathers and his trembling had not yet ceased.

Strange, that he didn't seem to notice.

"Hello," he offered up, softly; "Thank you--hi." He hesitated, fumbling, and one surge of magicka later a sparkling banana had appeared in his clawed hands. "Thank you for--answering, I mean. I thought I was alone--I'm Oliver. Can I help you at all?" he blurted, blinking, and all else was lost behind that single odd, all-eclipsing hope. "Do you need anything? -At all?" He offered up the banana like a peace offering, almost desperate.

It was as though he was some form of servant, awakened to perform this duty and nothing more--yet he'd chosen it. Not that Vivilene was to know, of course.

"I like your light," he half-whispered, as if in afterthought.

@Vivilene

Vivilene flinched back without meaning to, long legs craning away from Oliver almost crawling towards her, and the very sight of the banana he offered sent her spiralling back to when she was a child, lost and confused and so, so afraid of monsters clinging to dark, leering at her.

Oh, how she wanted to run! Every fibre of her being told her to, ancient genetics leading back to mute deer in the forest, screaming and wailing and begging-- something here was wrong; more wrong than Vivilene could even comprehend.

But, she stayed, albeit with her legs almost diagonal to carry the brunt of her away from Oliver, and in that line they remained even as she reached out and took the banana between her padded fingers.

"Um," she uttered softly, and for a moment, that was all.

What was it, that rooted her there? It must have been empathy alone: the desperate want to help, to be useful had defined damn near her entire life since she had grown up. She knew it too well-- she knew, in some twisted sense, what must have been running through his mind.

Cervidae ears drooped, the tips grazing her shoulders. What does he need? How could they help each other? Eyes ran left and right in a brief search as her nails tapped against the banana skin.

A beat, and her hooves carefully clicked against the cave floor as she realigned herself-- a step back, first of all, to gather herself. Her pale head tipped with a barely-audible "thank you," and she took a little breath.

Grounding. "Um... water?" She suggested carefully, still fidgeting with the banana rather than eating it. "There... there's a river, um... will you walk with me, there?"

Hopefully, Oliver was still straining his ears.

@Oliver

A river? The river! There it was--something he could do!

Her skitter, her little flinch, didn't escape his notice and he did dip back a little, ears flattening back further. "I'm nice," he hastened to assure her, softly, and wondered what he'd done wrong. "Can I-? I can, I can--go to the river with you, thank you, um--do you know the way? It's this way," he added, turning in the water's direction.

He wanted to be helpful.

He wanted to be her guide, her guardian, whatever it was that Vivilene needed, and his eagerness to aid showed in every little movement. "Here," he added, hopefully, holding out a clawed 'hand' away from Vivilene, off toward the river. His own dim orb spiralled up and bobbed toward the water; apparently, he was using his magicka so that she wouldn't have to.

Then he began to crouch-walk along, half in front, yet pausing as if he wanted to circle back, like a dog herding sheep--but he didn't; he repressed that instinct (because Vivilene seemed a little nervous, and he didn't want to scare her!) and simply paused, looking hopefully back at her.

He wanted to ask her name--but he didn't; he didn't want to press. "Are you thirsty?" he asked, instead; was that why she wanted the river? "I could make water here?" So you don't have to walk, was the implication, though he didn't finish the thought aloud.

@Vivilene

'I'm nice' wasn't very comforting, to her-- with how easy it was for others to just talk without thinking about it first, anyone could say anything. They could even lie. No, it was the formation of another orb of light that make her feel a little more easy; her lips tugged into a small smile despite the near-permanent furrow of her brow.

Her own orb, of which had been dimming in the seconds she hadn't been paying full attention to it, illuminated a little brighter as it chased after Oliver's like a little firefly; weaving to the general direction of the river.

To his question (or, both of them), she shook her head-- and it was entirely unclear just what she was shaking her head to specifically as the hybrid stepped forward. Why he wanted to use so much magic was beyond her-- though, she'd never been the best at conversing how much magic she was using in a day that she tired out perhaps a little too easily.

Hooves clicked delicately along the path, as the sound of rushing water grew louder and threatened to drown out her voice. "I like the river," Vivilene said. "I like, um... the fish. Watching them." Like little lights, bopping in the haze of the water.

When Vivilene reached the shore she settled herself down with a little thump, long legs folded up underneath her, and cautiously gave the spot next to her a little pat-pat-pat as an invitation for Oliver. It was here, too, that she began to peel her banana.

A shuffle, now. "Um.. I'm Vivilene. Or, just um, Vivi. Hi."

@Oliver

"It's good--nice--to meet you, Vivilene. Vivi," Oliver offered gently. Her pat on the ground was taken as it was--an invitation--and he quickly scooted over and settled in.

He was, in part, pleased that he'd 'helped'--getting to the river--but the idea of it, what he'd actually done to help, was confused and tangled in his mind; too, the eagerness to continue to somehow help was caught in that whole concept. He didn't relax, then--not yet; he glanced from Vivilene to the river, noting her preference for watching fish and wondering how he could somehow help with that.

After a moment, he decided that maybe the light would help; if he pushed some into the water, maybe they'd come to investigate? -Or something? Hopefully it wouldn't scare them off, at least. At first, though, the fish scattered--a few silver streaks darting off--and Oliver hastily withdrew the light, allowing it to fall dim and vanish.

"Sorry," he apologized, hastily, ears flattening back; "I thought maybe they'd like the light?" He fidgeted, blinking down, hoping they'd come back. "They're--pretty," he offered, at length. "Is that why you watch them?"

@Vivilene

"Oh," said Vivilene, as the school scattered in all directions. She leant over the water, half-expectant to see a few come meandering back-- but the water remained dark and free of the long slivers of silver. A part of her was sad for it, though no blame was arising Oliver's way for it.

Her fingers fidgeted with the half-peeled banana. "They like the dark," she said, softly. "There's no.. lights, down there, um... it's okay, though, they'll come back later." She broke off a part of the fruit and stuck it in her mouth-- another, equal piece, was offered to Oliver. "Um.. I guess being pretty has... a little bit to do with it? It-- it's complicated, I think."

Putting things into words was never Vivilene's strong suit, either-- even now, as she mulled it over, she was only pulling up blanks. The movement was mesmerising, combined with the gentle sloshing of water. The colours against the dark stone underneath was pretty, sure, but the back-and-forth flight was hypnotic. It calmed her. It helped her sleep.

"I think I'd... like to be a fish," was how she decided to verbalize this feeling, however-- because surely the most ultimately relaxing experience must be to become a fish. "I mean, um.. I... like who I am. What I am. It'd just..."

"... it'd just be nice to be a fish."

A few beats passed, as Vivilene mulled on this point-- but for now, she made no move to correct herself. It'd be nice to be a fish. She was gently moving on, as she broke off another piece of banana for herself and another for Oliver, regardless if he'd taken the first piece or not.

She chewed, for a time. "You're not... new," the hybrid eventually concluded. "Um... do you have... a family, anywhere?"

@Oliver

It'd be nice to be a fish.

He took a breath.

He hadn't been intending to bring it up, but if that's what she wanted--"The wishing stone--um, that purple stone by where I hatched--purple and gold? It let me be an owl. It hurts, though. It hurt so bad I went into my stone. All my teeth fell out?" he added, lifting crow-like hands to feel worriedly at his jaws again.

His teeth were, in fact, all still there.

"Anyway, maybe it could let you turn into a fish-? But... the teeth thing hurts," he added. Then, he squinted. In a hushed, almost worried voice, he asked: "...Do fish have teeth?"

He took the proffered banana half with a little bow, and chewed, eyeing the water and fidgeting as he waited for the fish to return. Vivilene's question was one that again tucked his ear-tufts back against his neck, and he ducked a little--almost winced. He hastened to swallow down the rest of the fruit (and began to sparkle, naturally) as he answered. "I have a sister--White? And my mom, Eve, she lives in Cetus." At least, he thought she still did. "My dad, um... he died. In Hydra," he went on. He hesitated, then; did the Valkhound raised from Black's stone count as family, even..? Oliver gave a mental shrug and listed the Sentinel anyway. As he did so, he cast about along the ground, pushing up and searching the rocks and slabs of crystal nearby for something suitable; an idea'd occurred to him. It was half-formed, but it was something, and after a few moments he came back with a simple, flat slab of slate and sat back down. "The stone was brought back. But the--the one who has it isn't... my dad, anymore. He's weird," he added.

Then he planted one hand on the stone, and focused, imagining his magic, imagining light, imagining... fish.

Fish.

Maybe he could help?

"...Do you have family?" he asked, blinking up at Vivilene.

And then--he held the slate out to her, a silent offering. Gleaming flashes swam across its surface: little fish, several inches long. There were two or three--it was hard to tell, because the magic had them swimming off the surface of the slate (vanishing) and then swimming back onto it, again, like one of Cepheus's movie screens. It wasn't perfect, but there were little vague hints of ripples, and the gleam and glimmer of scales, at least, had been caught by the silvery-blue light.

"Do you want this?" he asked, voice hushed.

@Vivilene

picture like a 10 second loop of those little tablet games for cats that have goldfish swimming around

"Oh," said Vivilene, who was unsure how to initially respond to this. As Oliver lifted his hands to his jaws, Vivilene found her fingers lifting to her own cheeks, too, feeling the indents of her molars through the skin. She had nightmares, on occasion, of her teeth breaking apart in her mouth-- sometimes chipping away like crunching ice as she bit, and sometimes coming out several teeth at a time, clumped together like milky white quartz. Something about it made her more... uncomfortable than traditionally afraid -- but either way, she quite liked having her teeth firmly where they were.

It was a slight relief, to feel that her teeth were cemented firmly in her jaw, for now. "I've seen fish with teeth," she offered quietly. "Um.. that sounds... bad, though. I don't.. want to be like that." Half the allure of being a fish, Vivilene decided, as her dappled pelt lit up like a starry sky, would be not knowing anything other than being a fish. She would miss too much of land if she were confined to the water-- her garden, and fruit, and her family.

And, ahh, the conversation was steering away from teeth. Good.

She imagined Oliver's family primarily looking mostly like clones of himself-- aside from White, who was of course, white, and she smiled a little, until the unfortunate news. Where did I hear Hydra from? She wondered absently, before shaking her head. "I'm sorry," Vivilene said. She couldn't begin to imagine what she'd do without Attikias. "Um... that's not great."

And if Attikias had been brought back to be someone else? What would that be like? Would he remember her, or her siblings? Would be even be a little bit the same? She couldn't imagine him any other way, but--

Vivilene took the slate automatically as it was offered, moonlit eyes glossing over the contents at first. "Yeah, ahh..." her mouth twisted thoughtfully. "I have.. a big family. A lot of siblings, um... no mom. Not really. I have, um.. two dads, and a grandfather." No grandmother, though Vivilene hadn't considered that possibility before. Maybe Pride was stashing someone away, somewhere, that she didn't know about.

But she didn't want to talk about her own family-- not really. She was getting to the point where she didn't want to talk at all, in fact. Her voice was quickly growing hoarser with each word, yet she felt some instinctive sense that she couldn't leave Oliver alone. Something about that seemed... wrong.

Movement caught her eye and she looked down with a soft "oh," blinking at the stone. The little lights seemed fish-shaped, skittering back and forth across the surface. "Did you, um... make this? It's pretty."

She shuffled, briefly, "I can... make you a flower? It-- it, um, lasts forever, I think. --if you want?"

@Oliver