((OOC: this will become an event thread once everyone is in. Or, whoever wants to be! Non-CoR members are welcome, though if you're hostile you might get ate. ;) @Eve @Czernobog @Ghanyarah @Talat @Willow ))

The alligator that hauled himself back into the thick mists of Cetus was not the one who had left.

The one who had left had been fiery, fierce and energetic; this one was fiery, fierce and mind-bogglingly slow. He was a slow and inexorable riptide, rather than the crashing breakers of youth, and his immense (fat, some might say...) bulk was leaving a thick trail through the mud. Behind him, the black water trickled in to fill broad footprints, the reeds crushed down in a flat mess in his wake.

He had left to fight another, different dragon, because his Father had told him it was dangerous. It had been driven off--not by him, but not only a little by Aquarian's Children, and that was good enough for Dragon. He had not gotten a chance, past his gruesome injuries and slow recovery, to tell them that they had done well.

That he was proud of them.

Now, scar tissue littered his back; his right hind leg folded with each step, leaving the gator lurching as he went. He had nearly doubled his weight, too, lounging in the river of Polaris, but it was not Cetus: it was not warm, comfortable, full of slow and drowsy fish.

And anyway, it was time.

He had to see his family. He had to be sure that Czernobog was healing; that Eve and Tal'at yet lived. That Ghanyarah, at least, was well, and that they were all still feeding Aquarian.

The alligator was recovered enough to travel, and so now he slipped with pleasure back into the darkness of his marsh. He reached, at last--after hours of slow, laborious, limping travel--the flattened place where Aquarian's offering pile should have been.

Nothing was there.

Damn it.

He sniffed over the area, inhaling so deeply that the banked fire in his gullet sparked, the ember glow visible through the darkness. None of it smelled fresh--or rather, it did not smell like there'd been any meat, even rotting, left here lately, nor fish.

With a guttural growl--no, he was not mad at his family, only worried... Worried that Aquarian might have cut them loose, on their own--he turned and took another deep breath.

He bellowed out into the swamp, the hissing reverberation carrying to even its farthest reaches.

"CHILDREN OF ROT. COME TO ME."

It wasn't an... order, so much as a summons. He just wasn't sure how else to phrase it, but he supposed it sounded dramatic, as far as such things went. If only Eve were here, to amplify his call.

The alligator turned, settling down in the muck, thick ridged tail lashing slowly as he waited to see who--if anyone--would respond.

{ art by dark } ~ { table by aura . edited by banshee and dark }

Tal'at was not one to ignore a call from a fellow member of his group, much less from Dragon himself. The blind bat encouraged his spider friend to follow, but she crept along in the deep bog of the water, keeping low, keeping quiet, as he flew ahead.

He would not blame her this time. There would be a lot of large, scary gembounds gathered here. If Aquarian showed up, it would be a frightening experience for the shy spider indeed. She had braved his presence once, but she was not likely to endure much more of the mammoth father.

He found the pulse of Dragon with ease and soared through the trees, clearing the way to the lake with practiced ease. He knew this place well, and he landed neatly on the alligator's nose in just seven more heartbeats of the larger alligator.

"You are bigger," Tal'at breathed at first, awe in his voice as he felt the strong pulse beating in his radar. He crawled up between Dragon's eyes and he waited, listening for the pulse of the others. "I have friend... She is new. A water walker. Type of Spider. We are bonded... It is magic. She will come... Soon, you'll see." He continued to speak as he waited, and slowly the larger-than-the-bat but still quite small spider came out of the water, peeking her bright blue head out of the muck of the water.

Ssssssssss, she sputtered, being careful to keep a distance from the alligator, no matter how cozy Tal'at was to him. She trusted the greater gembounds about as much as she could throw them, and her legs were basically fuzzy sticks.

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He'd fallen asleep near the boulder for another night in a row, unable to move farther than it took to drink and eat. The boar looked more like a tattered, inflated mass of flesh than a proper creature - and sounded even worse. Every breath rattled and whispered wetly, escaping not through his nostrils, but through the hole in his chest, its edges ragged and bruised, still tainted by broken magic, unwilling to be healed. His back, at least, had healed up almost perfectly, leaving a bald patch, not fixing the lasting muscular damage that had twisted his gait, but no longer entrenched with pus-filled gouges. Cayenne's medicine had, at least, worked properly.

Three bone spikes crowned the pig's left shoulder, and when he moved, they shifted, making skin and muscle ache. It was only a matter of time before their magical core could be drained and reabsorbed, but it had been days with no improvement, and frankly, Czernobog was beginning to get angry. Really, truly angry - at himself. It was his magic that had frightened Cayenne, scared his daughter, almost killed him. He hooved at his broken tusk, grunting and squealing under his breath, finally leaving it alone when the strain made his muscles sing.

The swamp quieted, and he lay still, a mountain of matted bristles and whistling breath.

CHILDREN. ROT. COME.

At first, the booming summons seemed like just another hallucination, either borne from the drug or the strain - but it echoed through the trees, and Czernobog immediately struggled to shove himself off the ground, turning wide, deadened eyes towards the noise, shivering and slowly beginning to walk. Cayenne would be mad. Isi would be madder.

But he'd never been punished for failing his father, and that was inexcusable.

And so he lumbered off, into the water, and for a sickening panic-filled moment, some of it sloshed into his chest.

A lurch and a cough later, he was back on dry land, shakily trotting towards where he thought he remembered the meeting site to be. The pig sped up as he got closer - this could be his chance, to explain everything, let them all know how dangerous he'd become, let them decide what to do with him. But when he finally made it there, rounding the corner enough to cross from mud to flattened reeds, he slowed, finally stilling a few feet from his family, gaze flickering from Singer to Tiny and back again.

The water in his chest sloshed when he spoke.

"Daaaaaaaaaad."

In Dragon's absence, Ghanyarah had been keeping himself busy. If he wasn't busy with Netil, then he was busy doing checks around the swamp room. Now that Netil was larger and able to fend for himself - which Ghanyarah trusted he could, given very few dangerous mammals seemed to enter the marsh since the Children of Rot had made it their official home - Ghanyarah found time to dedicate to other matters. Not that his son wasn't important. Netil was probably one of the more important things to Ghanyarah, which was... a weird feeling... to care so obsessively about something. Yet, it didn't feel like caring so much as it did... securing his bloodline's survival. Like it was more of a responsibility than a desire. But Ghanyarah never faltered. He loyally tended to his son's ravenous hunger and taught him all he could. Even if the boy hadn't inherited his affinity for water.

Perhaps one of the things he had neglected to do was to keep the offering pile stocked. That was due in part to Ghanyarah's distraction with Netil, and his growing leniency. He was never meant for a position of real responsibility. If anything, the komodo dragon abused it. It slipped his mind. Or he put it off. Or instead of dropping a meal item off there, he'd eat it himself or leave it for Netil. It was really the last thing he thought about when he heard Dragon's resounding voice crack through the swamp, tearing him away from his previous engagement: terrorizing a small minnow caught in a mud pool.

His heart leaped with excitement - he was wondering when Dragon would come back, and he knew it was only a matter of time. But whatever compelled him to actually start monitoring the swamp, it must have been something close to boredom. Boredom without Dragon to seek council in, maybe he thought it would make him feel better if he did something productive. That didn't matter now, because his alligator brethren was back. The dragon picked himself up out of the mud and turned his long, hefty body in the direction of the call, scampering off to meet the alligator. When he saw him, he hadn't spotted the water spider - but he did see Dragon, and between his eyes the blind bat. Ghanyarah puffed and slowed, drawing forth a few more paces. Then, he settled. "Brother," The lizard greeted with an amicable flick of his tongue, but his sunset eyes immediately turned at the raucous approach of the rotting boar.

table and code © chelsea of ORIGIN


@Netil

Macawi had never been in this part of the Origin Cave before. At least, she didn’t think she had. Her memory worked in strange ways. Some things she remembered immediately, yet others seemed to slip away a moment after she learned of them. She supposed that came from being a wanderer. Who had time to remember everything? She remembered people, though. People stuck in her brain like tree sap sticks to fur. So when she heard a kind of summoning that echoed through this swampy room, she decided she had to check it out, if for no other reason than that she did not recognize the summoner’s voice.

Delicate, tiny paws slowly waded through the murky depths of the marsh. The coyote tried to find the shallowest areas to cross, as she was not very tall, and more than once, she had to swim to higher ground. But she was unafraid, even when her legs brushed against all sorts of slimy things. They could be plants, but they could just as easily be creepy creatures lurking in the dark waters… And Macawi couldn’t care less! The only thing she was worried about was her satchel full of goodies and her headdress. She’d slipped the headdress off and nosed it into her satchel and now she gripped the large-ish bag in her teeth and held her head as high above the water as she could. Still, the bottom portion of it dragged in the soupy water.

Finally, she pulled herself up onto a bank where it seemed a few others had gathered. She stayed quiet, slipping out of the water without splashing around too much, and stuck to the bank. She was a happy-go-lucky person, but her natural Coyote instincts did take over now and again and told her not to get in the way of things all the time. So, for now, she sat silently, letting the bottom of her bag drip-dry as she continued to hold it in her teeth.

"Speech"

Words: 331

Eve had also been busy. She had kids now -she was surprised by how much time was being consumed just looking after one, she couldn't imagine juggling the both of them. But she supposed that Black would have an easier time taking care of White, given that there was wasn't much mud in Polaris. Cetus, however, was covered in it. She took note of how much Oliver had loved the mud, but also how long it took to clean him afterwards. Eve was not a mother to stop her children from enjoying themselves, but it did mean she'd have to spend the next hour and a half cleaning the pup. It was during this process that a familiar voice called for her. Dragon was finally back - after what felt like years. The crow moved her head away from Oliver's feathers and glanced in the direction of the summon. "That's for us," she said to her son. "You haven't met Dragon yet, but now would be the time to." The crow began fluttering from rock to root, looking back for Oliver to follow. "Come on," she encouraged gently, making sure he didn't fall flat on his face (and if he did, she'd return to him and nudge his nose until he got back up). They'd no doubt be late, but it didn't matter. Dragon surely wouldn't start without her, right? Eventually, once she landed on a rock relatively near to where she had pinpointed Dragon to be, though she saw something else a little further away from the rest. A dog. A dog with a weird stupid-looking thing on it's head. An intruder? Are we in danger? She shot a glance at Oliver, before she turned around, fluttering quietly behind the coyote. She breathed in, ready to explode with the loudest sound she knew of, but when she let the sound go it came out suspiciously quieter than she had intended - in fact, it didn't sound like Aquarian at all. It just sounded like a particularly pissed off bird. She supposed that would do. Her own noises were pretty loud to begin with. After a horrible, ear-splitting squawk, she began shrieking instead. "WHO ARE YOU?!" Her feathers had fluffed up now, not in the way she would when she's relaxed, no. She was instead trying to make herself seem bigger (which was pretty much impossible). She hissed and spat, before turning her head slightly to see if Oliver had fallen over or not. table code © rasta 2015

@Oliver

The young dog-crow was hobbling along through the swamp, sticking to more solid ground as best he could. Often he scuttled along like a bat, his quill-laden wing-arms soaked through with swamp-water and mud.

He was nimble enough, but he was clumsy, what with the oversized bird-taloned-feet and fingers that extended back as wings; he often splashed face-first down into the mud, flinching.

But he didn't seem bothered by this. If anything, he seemed curious--each time he fell into the black water, he'd perk up again, tufted ears pricking up, gazing around him with wide eyes. Eve hadn't brought him to the offering pile, yet, and this was new to him: the dark vast mirror of the Heart of Cetus stretched before him like a fascinating void.

Ahead, there was a gathering of animals, Gembounds that he knew--and a couple he did not. Tal'at he remembered, and Czernobog--but the lurking canine, he didn't recognize. Nor did he know the massive, ridged reptilian bulk that lounged half in the dark water.

At length, Eve left him to scream at the canine-thing; Oliver had long ago learned to leave her to this, and instead he huddled, wet and cold, on the bank. He was slightly cowered down, shy, eyeing the alligator with fear--it did not look kind, or pleasant. He lingered at the outer edges of the offering clearing, unmoving, as if hoping to remain hidden and unnoticed.

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}

The heavy alligator watched as the Children of Rot arrived, each in turn. He swelled with joy at the idea that they had come to his call--trusting him--and it wasn't pride, but a feeling that he was bonded, still close to this family despite his time apart.

There was Eve--raucous as ever; here came Tal'at, quietly explaining the presence of... a spider? Dragon looked away, noting the presence of a couple strangers--a skinny dog, he thought, and a black bat-like dog-thing that seemed to be following Eve. He eyed this one curiously, and wondered if Eve had somehow crossbred with Tal'at, in his absence.

And there was Czernobog. Dragon felt a brief surge of horror at the wounds in the boar's chest--the black swamp water sloshed through the open gaps in the flesh, Bog's voice rasping wetly as he spoke.

A brief instinct to eat him lurched through the alligator, and he shoved this down. Czernobog was not food, not weakened prey: Bog was his son. His responsibility. And he'd been wounded, in Dragon's absence--or perhaps his wounds from Raheerah still had not healed. Daaaaad. Dragon felt his heart wrench, just a little.

Damn.

Ghanyarah had arrived, too, alert and healthy-looking, which pleased him. "Brother," he growled, in turn.

Only Willow was missing, and though Dragon searched the trees for her, he did not see her come.

The alligator took a deep breath, glancing briefly at the shrieking crow, before speaking. There was concern in his tone, and warmth, both, but a serious undertone to it.

"Children of Rot," he began, addressing them as a whole. "I am glad to find you all alive. I am recovered. I wish to know what has happened in my absence--and what has happened to you, Bog, are you all right?" he added, staring at the boar with worry.

"Where is Willow? Why is the pile untended? Does Aquarian remain?"

It was a simple speech, and to the point, but there was no accusation in it. Perhaps they had forgotten, or perhaps fed him directly--or perhaps Aquarian was altogether gone. It was his own fault, for being away--but now, it was time to begin cleaning up.

He just needed his family to help him.

{ art by dark } ~ { table by aura . edited by banshee and dark }

@Talat @Eve @Czernobog @Ghanyarah @Macawi

The komodo watched the others slowly advancing on the gathering. There weren't many others to join them at this point; he'd noticed the winged dog, but his association with Eve was evident enough that he didn't feel the need to question it. Ghanyarah had his reservations towards mammals, and that included the gangly child. Now... There was another dog approaching, but Eve was quick to notice. Ghanyarah too had elevated his body from the mud in alarm, but Dragon didn't appear too put off by it. He just as quickly greeted the group and asked them questions of the room he hadn't been able to tend in his absence. Though he was cautious of the coyote, he turned his attention back to Dragon. "Aquarian visited us several weeks ago with gifts of rotting fish." He answered. "Netil ate most of them. We haven't seen Aquarian since. The pile has been neglected as a fault of my own." He admitted rigidly and wondered if Dragon would persecute him for his negligence.

Tal'at was not a hunter of anything except for mangos, and he had been doing his best to get the little seeds they had gathered to grow-- but it was a slow thing. The hunters had not been taking care of the fish pile, nor had anyone asked for his scouting ability to hunt. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, listening to Dragon as he considered what this all meant for them.

Ghanyarah accepted the blame for the pile, as well as announcing that they had seen Aquarian. Tal'at had tried to forget about it, honestly, because he felt like he had almost died to get his spider friend a fish and he felt rather embarrassed about the whole affair in the end.

Which left just one question ringing in his mind. "Where is Willow," he echoed in a whisper. "I haven't seen... Perhaps I should... Look for her. I can seek," he whispered softly, spreading his wings, though he did not leave his perch on Dragon, instead waiting for permission before he just flew out of the meeting on a whim.

Finding Willow, however, was a rather important thing that he could certainly help with. His gem glistened in preparation to hunt the owl, flashing a shade of red for a brief moment.

... And then the bat folded his wings, settling back down on to Dragon like he was going to take a nap. A gentle smile graced his face and he spoke softly, "Ah, I see... Willow is here. She is above. She listens now." He explained shortly, focusing on the silent wing beats that seemed almost in pulse with her own heartbeat. He could feel her so precisely in that moment, seeing without eyes what others had missed-- the bird high above, deep in the mist, silent as the apex hunter she was.

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