Although the storm was not the cause of the darkness in the caves, a portion of it seems to have drifted free from the eye. It is a thick tendril of magical cloud, reaching, probing at the ceiling, and getting ever closer to the generator. A previous visit amounted to very little - but then, those gembounds were probably unaware of the storm's indomitable hunger.

This thread is a continuation of this event.
Participation is optional - but a character cannot be in two places at once!

Participants: Winter, Kera, Melody, Black.

Winter slid away from the rest of the gembounds, still hidden from their view. Her senses were fixed on a section of the storm that none of the others had yet noticed. It was reaching towards the generator. She knew that if it were to reach and destroy or damage the generator, the lights would never come back on. And, while having light wouldn't make a huge difference for her, she knew that the other gembounds would rather walk in light then in darkness.

She reached the edge of the water and looked into the water, her tongue flicking out trying to catch any kind of scents. She looked back up at the storm, trying to figure out how she was going to stop it.

When I speak.

When I think.

A part of Kera wondered-- as she limp-ran away from the group towards the generator --if the lightning from the storm above would turn the lights back on should it strike the generator. She also wondered if it would completely break the thing instead.

Kera decided not to take that risk.

Ignoring all else for a moment, Kera limp-charged towards the generator, then stopped. She limped away from it, getting some distance. She knew that the storm was, for some reason, interested in hitting things that were magical.

In the off-chance she could delay or set the storm completely off its course, Kera began to concentrate very hard into creating her eerily-glowing blue-green mushrooms in a ring around herself, bowing her head to touch the cave floor.

...but nothing happened. Perhaps the storm was disrupting her, somehow. She did not know.

Melody slowly walked through Polaris, the storm frightened her and she was cautious, very cautious. She looked around slowly, what was happening here? She couldn't understand. Her blue eyes looked around the area until she saw someone she recognised. A pure white cobra, it was Winter! She ran up quickly without any hesitation. When she was next to Winter Melody attempted to nuzzle the snake in a friendly manner. She looked around for a moment and saw another creature near a strange object. It was a wolf it seemed. Melody cautiously walked over to the wolf. She cocked her head at the object and then rose her paw and looked at it. After a moment of staring at her paw Melody slowly pressed her paw on the machine and closed her eyes. She hoped to learn more about this thing, to see what it was, what was happening, she wanted to understand.

Black crept closer, head raised and pendulous ears pricked up. He was watching the storm lashing high above, and he was wondering.

It is a storm,
his slow and steady mind gradually cranked out by way of conclusion.

And it is rife with magicka, I think.

The black dog held no interest in returning the lights to the cave; he was unaware it was problematic for others, and he himself simply lived in Polaris, hunting fish and rats and remaining content in the darkness, which shrouded him from sight.

There were other gembounds ahead, he could see: one was a white wolf, and this one reminded him of his daughter, only far less impressive. He stepped up out of the darkness alongside her without a word, ignoring all three of them in a manner that almost suggested he simply assumed them to be comrades, friendly. No introduction was given and no questions were asked as he stared up at the storm.

He wondered if it were dangerous; he wondered if he ought to send it to the void.

Yes, that seemed wise.

He stood staring, still, and felt his own magicka gather around him, pricking and sparking and shivering along his fur as it drew inward. He drew it together, and let the magic shape itself, remembering the void that had dragged the meat-thing, the bone-thing, backwards and into the chasm that lay somewhere below them.

Yes. That will do,
he thought, and felt his magic begin to shape, and shift, as it formed.

Darkness seemed to form behind it, flickering--then failed, sputtering out.

The black dog tilted his head, pale blue eyes staring through his wrinkles, and at last he spoke, voice a deep and rumbling bass, but his tone amiably blank.

"It is chaos," he said, and then looked to the others for their opinions.

________________

Although the energy coursed its way towards the generator at a good clip, gembounds managed to arrive first. They came upon the contraption one by one; each tried something different, but it was as if the magicka of Polaris had been stripped back - it was difficult for any spell to take up root, for the storm had blighted the area.

The storm's seemingly endless energy was careening from vortex to vortex, crackling through the unnatural cloud cover along the ceiling, and still making its way towards the generator. It was almost like it saw the creatures gathering and it held off on its advance.

Until it saw something among them that piqued it's interest. All at once there was a crackling overhead which grew louder as the energy came rolling from the clouds. The storm struck down close to where @Kera was standing, but somehow the energy was drawn towards the generator and the blow was barely registered upon the soil.

Briefly the generator wheezed and ticked, as if it were trying to wake, only to fall back to being stagnant and useless.

Kera stared up at the storm for a very long time, watching but not entirely thinking. With the fur rising along her back she eyed up the storm for a few beats before alarmedly turning her head towards the silver-backed fox moving towards her, absently edging out of the way as the creature began touching the generator below.

She almost bumped into the dog that had appeared-- seemingly from nowhere --right next to her, only stopping short of barging into him when he spoke. "It's what?" She echoed quizzically, before turning her head back up towards the storm, pink tongue sweeping across her jowls.

What was it doing? The clouds were making noises and were churning above and--

Instinct took over the wolf's body as she realised in a split second what was about to happen, diving out of the way as the storm hit the ground near the generator, where she had been standing a second ago.

Hesitantly, she moved back, ears lifted as she listened to the generator. "It might turn it back on," she offered. "It sounds like it wants to turn on."

Craning her head forward, she hesitantly began to sniff the generator before speaking further. "It's attracted to magic. It broke apart a stone that someone made not long ago." With this brief explanation, Kera pressed her nose against the generator and focused.

There was no glimmer of light under her fur or the familiar feeling of magic flowing through her as her spell failed once more. Bristling briefly, the wolf backed off and shook out her fur quietly, eyeing over the generator again, briefly.

Black stepped forward, at the flash of lightning, staring up.

"It is chaos," he repeated. "What lies above was taken from it. Perhaps, it can be returned."

He stepped forward, slowly, sniffing over the generator itself. It was dangerous. He might be struck. He might even die; but that mattered little. What mattered was fixing the problem that lay before him.

"I will see what has been done, as I have seen echoes in the past," he rumbled slowly. He didn't bother, still, to introduce himself. He just got right to the point. "If we know what has been done; then perhaps it can be undone."

Slowly, he paced around it, away from where the lightning had struck--and pressed one paw up to it, staring intently at the object whose purpose he did not understand.

He felt his magic flood in, perhaps fed by the very storm that was causing so much chaotic interference--and he closed his eyes, and patiently waited.

________________

@Melody ; @Winter

Winter watched as all the other gembounds joined her at the edge of the water. She was disappointed - she hadn't really learned much from her investigation. However, the other gembounds were at it, using their magic to try and attract the storm. She wished that she was better at magic. Perhaps then she would be more useful in trying to get the attention of the storm.

She did know hindsight, but she wasn't sure how useful it would be to attract anything. However, she did have a small inkling of an idea. Perhaps if she only focused on the spot where the storm had hit, maybe she could catch some residual energy and figure out what was going on. She slid forward and pressed her nose against the spot and focused. She felt the magic flooding her body and she shuddered. She hadn't used magic too often and it still was a very uncomfortable feeling.

When I speak.

When I think.

First was the canine, who would have the most clear images of what happened: the violent scene of the Betrayer, as he knew her, being eaten and breaking free; her outburst at Xireidi, ordering him to find her "the real Batcat;" and the result, the reason--Nemean jamming a topaz into the large wheel. It had clunked somewhere beneath the surface of the water before the wheel lurched to a stop, the lights flickering out. As the memory faded, Nemean's screeching voice could be heard telling Xireidi, "You'll have better luck like this!"

Then, Winter's: not as exact, not as full. But clear images of the topaz jamming into the wheel and clunking down somewhere beneath the surface before the wheel lurches to a stop with Nemean's shrill voice saying, "You'll have better luck like this!" at a red wolf-like figure.

The storm's lightning struck wildly, hungrily; whatever these creatures had done, they had been very succesful with their magic, and bolts struck dangerously close to them. It was by sheer luck that @Winter slithered away in time to avoid a direct hit; the energy crackled as it dissipated through the air after the strike, and in its own serpentine way, the storm rolled overhead as if preparing another volley.