Claustrophobia

[Deleted]

It was a lovely day in the Weyrd. While the weather had been cool lately, the sun was shining, and the bare stone was absorbing that warmth and radiating it back to the people who were out enjoying it. Inside, of course, there was no sun, but the pleasant weather had practically every door and window in the Weyrd wide open. The breeze was flavored with wholesome scents of cooking foods and clean water, of fresh laundry and woodsmoke, and carried in with it the happy sounds of birdsong and friendly chatter from outside. Meow Mix had heard days like this called an Indian Summer, but she wasn't exactly sure why. It certainly felt more like a false spring than a summer to her. She knew that the warmth would not last- it was autumn, and no matter how weird this world was, that meant winter was right around the corner. Still, though, it was too pleasant of a day not to enjoy, and Mixie was making the most of it.

The last thing that she'd expected as she swept the corridor in front of her workshop with a crude broom was a sharp, cold breeze- not coming from the open windows and doors, but from farther back in the cave.

A breeze that carried the faint, distant cries of a creature in pain.

Alarmed, to say the least, Meow Mix dropped her broom and rushed down the winding halls, following the cold draft and the sound of distress. Before long, she found herself farther back in the caves than she had ever been before... further back than it looked like anyone had been in years. Her mecha left clear tracks in the accumulated dust, and the air soon grew musty and stale, stirred only by the random breaths of cold air that slipped between the cracks. The thin draft led to a door that looked like it'd once been boarded up, but time had taken it's toll on the ancient wood, and the termite-eaten barrier barely put up any resistance as Meow Mix shoved it aside.

The room on the other side was large and cluttered- a store room of some kind- but, most significantly of all, was occupied. Arranged across boxes and tarp-covered shapes were large, multicolored, dangerous-looking vulture-like birds. As one, their heads turned to face her, bulbous eyes gleaming in the dim half-light... and, one by one, they turned away, and began to leave. While some hopped and shuffled, and some glided elegantly, all of them headed towards the same target- a space between a pair of large boxes. There seemed to be a crack in the wall there, barely big enough to squeeze through, leading back further into the mountain. Meow Mix peered in, but she could barely see anything, other than the gleam of the bird's eyes vanishing into the darkness. The cries of pain were definitely coming from inside, though.

Whatever was in there didn't sound like one of the birds. Had they trapped something? Had someone gotten lost following them? What were the birds going to do to whatever was crying out like that?

This wasn't going to be fun.





TLDR (or: in case I'm not good at making myself clear) : Your character hears cries of SOMETHING in pain- could sound like a creature, like a child, like whatever motivates your person to get moving. The cries are coming from a dark hole in the wall. There are Requiae in that hole, and the gods only know what else. Have fun with that.

Rules:

-Bring one character, bring 'em all, I don't care- but I don't want your characters interacting with one another during their Dark Cave Adventure. What would be the fun in that?
-It's going to be dark in the cave.
-You don't need to wait for permission or acknowledgement from Mixie to throw yourself into the Dark Creepy Cave of Doom. Get this ball rolling!
-Did I mention it's going to be dark in there?
-There are no eggs, only Requiae. If one catches your eye, you might want to follow it. Then again, it might be leading you over a cliff or into a pit full of hibernating snakes. Hard to tell with Requiae.
-If you bring a flashlight, it won't turn on. If you bring a torch, it won't light. If your character glows in the dark, they won't glow. I did say it's dark, right?
-I'm don't want any of y'all sending me preferences. If you want something, show me in your post :3

[Deleted]

Allure Shake'n'Bake -- Leonard
Allure Bellatrix -- Luna
Legacy Marbles -- Tiberius

3/10 Requiae bonded

7/10 Requiae wild
----

One for Sorrow

Isolated Melancholy Omen

If there was ever a Requiae who clearly wanted to be a darker black than black, it would be this Omen. He's small and scrawny, but clearly takes great pains to maintain his appearance. His dark, oily feathers are impeccably groomed and maintained, and light slashes of almost rainbow-bright hues can be seen glittering at the edges of his pinions. His face is a slightly lighter grey, but his large, pale eyes are ringed with a slight mask of darker black.

One is the loneliest number, and, by god, does the Isolated Melancholy Omen embrace that. He actively seeks solitude, but, far from satisfied with simply being alone, he'll make sure that you can SEE that he's alone. What's the point of being sad and withdrawn if no one's around to see how miserable you are, after all? It seems a tad disrespectful to refer to a killer death bird as 'emo', but, well. Let's just say that if the black skinny jeans fit, wear 'em.

WILD

Two for Mirth

Spiteful Tittering Omen

Undersized and underfed, this Omen is a scrawny, ragged looking little runt- which, quite frankly, seems like a dying shame, given his coloration. His feathers are a glossy, metallic indigo, shifting between that and a richer royal blue depending on how the light hits him. There are slight traces of a greenish, bluish shine, and his silvery eyes stand out like jewels. He'd be glorious if he took proper care of himself. Instead, though, his feathers are ragged and unpreened, and the bones stand out on his lean, hunched frame. He's clearly been at the bottom of the pecking order for some time.

If one were to pick one word to describe the Spiteful Tittering Omen, it'd be "that group of teenage girls in high school who sneer and whisper to one another and then break out into loud giggles as soon as you come into the room," which might be slightly more than one word, but who's counting? This is a creature of malevolence and mockery. It doesn't matter what you do, or how well you do it, he'll find something about it to ridicule, and will take great delight in making you feel like a complete heel. Your anger and shame are his tea and sugar.

WILD

Three for a Funeral

In Memorium Lament

It seems that even shinies aren't immune to the ravages of time. There's no question that this Lament is an old one... which is quite the surprise, considering that she's an albino. While the hated coloration might not often survive to adulthood, there's no question that this elderly lady has been around the block a few times. Her colorless feathers are ragged and unpreened where they're difficult to reach. She may once have been large for her rank, but at this point she seems much smaller. Her posture is hunched, her movements stiff and slow. She's less inclined to soar and glide than she is to shuffle along or hitch a ride from anything moving in her direction. Her eyesight definitely isn't what it used to be, either- though it's hard to tell whether the filmy, pale color of her eyes is due to age, or just due to being a Requiae.

Is it weird to compare a Requiae to a hug? Because the In Memorium Lament is, in essence, basically like a hug. She's warm and comforting, soft and gentle, a sympathetic presence. If you've been feeling down, she's likely to show up at your side with some treat or trinket to cheer you up. Even if you're doing alright, she'll often bring you a flower or a dead mouse just to let you know she's thinking of you. She's exactly the being you want around you if you've been crying. Now, whether she's doing this because she's genuinely the kindly grandmother she makes herself out to be, or if she just finds warm fuzzy feelings tastier, well... every lady is entitled to her secrets. Now, drink your cocoa.

WILD

Four for a Birth

Sniveling Infant Legacy

What a tiny little fellow this Legacy is! Hardly even as big as a chicken, he's easily half the size of most of the Requiae around him, if not smaller. His feathers are a soft, pleasant sort of powder blue, fading to dusty white on the belly, with some light stippling of white across his back and wings as well. There's a certain gangly awkwardness about him, as if he'd grown a little too quickly- his feet seem slightly too big, and his movements lack the smooth grace of a grown elder. For a bird, he manages to have a surprisingly petulant expression on his beaky little face.

Do you like crying? I hope you like crying. The Sniveling Infant Legacy may not technically be an infant anymore, but he certainly earns his title. He's screamy, demanding, spoiled, and entitled. If ever there comes a moment where he feels he's not getting his way, there will be a shrieking, raging meltdown, followed by sulking and sniffling and hurt feelings. And if you happen to be unlucky enough to be in a household with multiple Requiae, be cautious- he's a daddy's boy to the core, and he will bring any of his elders in to make your life miserable in response to any imagined slight.

WILD

Five for Heaven

Celestial Beauty Allure

Oh, what a beauty of a Requiae. Small, sleek, fine-boned, and delicate, she looks like the results of a misguided but talented artist trying to sculpt a bird of prey out of crimson glass. Her ruby-red feathers glisten and shine, accented ever so delicately by a tracing of darker garnet that edge them, bringing an outline and definition to each individual pinion. One could almost ignore the ungainly, vulture-like shape and bulbous black eyes... if not for the coldness with which they focus on those around her.

Vanity, thy name is Requiae. The Celestial Beauty Allure certainly lives up to her name, but there is no question that she knows it. She takes great pride in her appearance, and if there's any reflective surfaces in your home, you're always sure to find her parked in front of them. Take great care in what you say or think around her. Like any Requiae, she can feel (and feed upon) your thoughts, and if any of the ones directed towards her are unflattering, she will rain painful vengeance down upon you for the insult... and she is not inclined to forgive and forget, either.

BOND! Celestial Beauty Allure to Luna!

Six for Hell

Dante's Inferno Scourge

Have you ever been roasting a chicken and left it in the oven for a good forty-five minutes too long? So the skin goes dark and bubbly and retracts away from the meat, which starts to dry out and split? If so, you've got a pretty good idea what this Requiae looks like. It may just be the effect of her coloration, but this Scourge's mottled and jaundiced browns definitely have a burned, or at least overcooked, look about them. In places her skin seems shrunken and drawn tight, and her feathers have a sickly, sticky look about them.

If one were trying to boil down the personalities of a batch of Requiae down to single words, not that anyone is lazy enough to be tempted to do so even though they feel like they've been working on descriptions for like a billion years, the Dante's Inferno Scourge would be left with the word "eew." This is a hellraiser of a hen who revels in ruin, delights in decay, takes pleasure in putrefaction, and other such grotesque alliterations. She will make herself rancid nests of awful offal, gathering any bones, hides, and other horrifying animal debris to cuddle up to. You can just imagine what she smells like. Her favorite mental taste in the world seem to be "recoiling in disgust" and "that sudden feeling of needing to vomit." Good luck with that.

BOND! Dante's Inferno Scourge to Alice!
Unclaimed by deadline- WILD

Seven for Secrets, Never to Tell

Skeleton in the Closet Phantom

As vibrant and hard to hide as a fresh hickey, this Phantom is a wild assortment of hues. From head to tailfeathers, he fades from a jammy, plum-bright red, through a warm navy blue, down to a sickly yellow-grey at the edges, marbled and mottled all over. One could almost think that his glossy black eyes are warm and curious... but they'd be mistaken.This is a Requiae who can and will see straight through you, and is sniggering nastily to himself about what he sees.

Everyone has their dirty little secrets. Everyone has memories that they lock away, moments they're not proud of. It's not just feelings of anger and loss and heartbreak, either. Do you remember that time you peed your pants as a child and hid your underwear so your mom wouldn't find out? Do you remember tripping over your own feet in the middle of the grocery store and falling flat on your face? The Skeleton in the Closet Phantom remembers, and he'll make sure YOU remember, too. This fiend delights in making you squirm. If he had the ability to pull out old photo albums and middle school yearbooks, trust me- he would.

WILD

Eight for Hardship

Wolf at the Door Allure

Fairly large, but not remarkably so, this Allure is a startlingly menacing sight. Far from the classic flaming rubies of her rank, she's a cooler, wine-dark garnet, darkening to almost black on her face and chest- a jewel tone, to be certain, but a surprisingly grim one. Her silvery eyes stand out in sharp contrast, and there's an air of savagery about them. There is no question, upon looking at her, that this Allure would bite, and her slightly hunched and compactly muscular frame hints that a bite would hurt like hellfire itself.

If one were to pick a single word to describe the Wolf at the Door Allure, it'd be ravenous. She is a creature that exists in a perpetual state of starvation and demand. She's greedy, loud, violent, and formidable in her insistence. Whatever you have, whether it be material or spiritual, personal or objective, good, bad, or indifferent- she will take it, and leave nothing behind. It is hers by right, in her eyes, and you owe it to her. Don't ever expect to be able to enjoy the last pop-tart with her in the house.

Bond! Wolf at the Door Allure to Leonard!

Nine for Wealth

All That Glitters Legacy

There seems to be something a little... off... about this Legacy. At first glance, he seems fairly normal (at least by Requiae standards). He's small and mostly white, only darkening to a pallid sky blue under his wings and tail, though there seems to be an odd shimmer about him- as if his feathers had been touched by the frost. The blades on his wings are short and blunted. His cloudy eyes seem oddly unfocused, though- almost seeming to stare at the walls more than the people near him. It can take several seconds to get him to react to a sound or gesture. One gets the impression that the lights are on, but nobody's home.

It's not a very common sight to see a Requiae stare blankly into space, walk into walls, or trip over it's own tailfeathers, but all of these are going to be common sights around the All That Glitters Legacy. This little fellow is, to put it generously, not the brightest bulb on the Whazzitmas tree. More turkey than turkey vulture, he's simple minded and unthreatening, far more interested in shiny objects than he is in death and suffering. And oh, does he love everything that shines. Guard your small treasures well, or they'll end up in this Legacy's nest... or his stomach, if they're small enough to swallow. He's really not very bright.

Bond! All That Glitters Legacy to Tiberius!

Ten for the Devil, His Own Self

Hope You Guessed My Name Remnant


Oh, what a fine figure of a bird this Remnant cuts. If ever a Requiae could be called 'classy', this one fits the bill. Tall, pale, and not particularly muscular, he would look almost gangly, if not for the poise with which he carries himself. His feathers are a crisp, clean ivory, creamy on the breast and wings, and just a tad paler on the head and tail, with a neat double row of almost brassy-tinted spots down his chest. He'll never be seen skulking or hunched over, but is rather inclined to STRUT, even managing to fly with just a bit of a noticeable swagger. His dark eyes gleam with open curiosity and intelligence, and there's definitely no question that he's watching every move you make.

It's easy to dismiss the Hope You Guessed My Name Remnant as cold, aloof, smug, and haughty. He certainly appears that way at first glance, and many will never get the opportunity to see him beyond that carefully maintained persona. To those that spend time with him, though, this Remnant can be a surprisingly charming fellow. He can be unusually warm and affectionate for a Requiae, and has a particular soft spot for the young. He'll often be found fussing like a terrifying, soul-sucking mother hen over any youngsters in the household. Don't assume this affection applies to everyone, though- he's used to getting his own way, and you'll suffer if you don't follow suit.

WILD

[Deleted]

Y'all have until Jan 14th to name-and-claim.



Allure Shake'n'Bake -- Leonard
Allure Bellatrix -- Luna
Legacy Marbles -- Tiberius

All others wild ;__;

[Deleted]

Sleep was something Tiberius still needed to catch up on, probably for the next year or so, but it certainly wasn't easy. Even with the gentle presence of Aurora guarding the cave and resting in his mind, his dreams were one flaming train wreck after another. Red-tinged memories, the smell of burning flesh, rotting meat, the shouting voices of authority that could not be trusted, and just pain upon pain soaked his dreams and left sleep unproductive. He was exhausted and angry more often than not, but life was still better than it ever had been. Food alone was plentiful, between Aurora's skills, his own growing experience in fishing and trapping, and the bargain he'd made with some witch from the Weyrd for a spell to help him grow a garden all year long. There was fresh water in both the form of a stream near the clearing of his cave, and a warm hot spring that was tucked further back into the cave. Sure, he understood he could move to the Weyrd, be closer to the growing population of people, find things not so lonely and perhaps even easier. But Tiberius didn't trust it, didn't trust them, and frankly, he was happier out here. Or so he kept telling himself.

But exhaustion was going to keep being his downfall. The sun was warm and shining that day, heating up everything, and it was with no great surprise that Tiberius had found a large, flat rock to sprawl on and had promptly dozed off. The rock under him was warm, it was quiet and peaceful, and there was no real reason for him to stay awake. He'd regret it, of course, almost always did, but his body still needed sleep. And really, the nightmare that followed wasn't the worst one he'd ever had. Streets filling with blood, the sounds of gunfire and snarling dogs, pained screams and sobbing, something begging for help. That was often the worst part, his dream-self's need to help, to find and save and try to make things better, but it never worked. The slums he'd had his childhood in were no place for any living person, and there was no protecting anyone against the drugs and disease and disgust from the better people of the world.

Still, in his dreams, Tiberius found himself ducking away from the violence of a riot being stopped with force. It was nothing more than a slaughter, he'd be shot or torn apart by dogs if they saw him, but someone needed help, he could hear it clear as day and the teen couldn't just turn away and ignore it. Everything told him not to go into some dark ally -- he couldn't see, couldn't hear all that clearly due to the noise, could only smell blood and gore. It was a trap, it was all one giant trap, but there was a pained whimper, and Tiberius pushed forward, uncaring of what he was walking into.

And then he fell off the rock, the thankfully short distance to the hard ground waking him with a start and a yelp.

He could still smell the blood, but the sun was shining and he was in no dark, cramped city. He could still hear the sounds of pain, too, and that was both jarring and scary. He kept telling himself it'd go away, it always did, and tried to focus on something else. Once he stopped trembling like a leaf, he could get up and maybe put the kettle on the fireplace. Heat up some water, make tea or some other crap that was warm. This little old grandfatherly fellow kept coming by and giving him tins of tea and coffee and cookies, and that could always help. Once he stopped shaking, that was.

But it wasn't going away. It still wasn't loud, but Tiberius still felt chilled to the bone and the noise was all he could hear. Maybe it wasn't part of his dream, but it had been influencing it. Maybe someone or something was hurt and he needed to get up and find it. He'd never forgive himself if he just sat here with some tea and ignored it until it died. Or, what Tiberius thought was more likely, he was just having a breakdown and going crazy and there was nothing there. Still wasn't going to stop him from getting up and going, though. He had to check.

Without Aurora, the hike to the Weyrd was unpleasant and rather long, but he was still stubborn. And cold, but, you know, that was neither here not there. The noise he heard now and then never really seemed to get louder, but he just knew he was going the right way. He still might have hesitated when it came to wandering the caves of the Weyrd, finding too many people and not enough escape routes, but he pushed forward. And he found the previously boarded up storage room soon enough. On another day, if he wasn't feeling so out of it, if he wasns't hearing the distressed, pained noise of something, he might have stopped to gawk at Meow Mix. Or at least remembered his manners enough to say hello. As it was, he only gave her a passing glance before his attention slipped away towards the crack in the wall.

It was cold, and it felt wrong, and the closer he got the more he understood there would be nothing easy about this. He hadn't thought to bring anything, not a sweatshirt or jacket, not food or water or bandages, not a light. He was a stupid idiot and he was going to find something in there and it would be dying and Tiberius would be at fault because he didn't think ahead. He just stupidly showed up like a useless idiot. But he still couldn't just stand around and hope someone else would do the right thing.

So he went. Shivering and uneasy, more afraid of finding something dying and not being able to do anything than being afraid of the tight fit and the dark, the teen eased himself through the crack and slowly moved forward. He hadn't shown up in time to see the vulture-birds show up, though he was pretty sure he wasn't alone in here. And after a moment of flailing and inching forward, he found a path to follow. Felt like it was leading him to the hurt thing. And, at the moment, he unknowingly was going in the direction of the Hope You Guessed My Name Remnant. One careful, trembling, shuffled step at a time.

[Deleted]

There was something going on. It started out as a prickle of discomfort in his mind, something that made him frown and feel vaguely cranky, but no more. It was easy enough to ignore, too, with the day being warm and sunny and gorgeous. Which, of course, just meant that the clinic was booked solid, because every idiot in the entire place was out getting into trouble. Falling outta trees, poking the wildlife, tripping over their own damned feet...whatever the case, there were plenty of people to see. So much for getting out to enjoy the day.

But there was a quiet spell, where Leonard was finally able to take a breath and do something for lunch. He’d managed to step away from the clinic, and got around to making himself a huge salad with a ton of weird ass vegetables. He didn’t know the names to most of them, but they were tasty. Plus fresh croutons, some sort of fruit that reminded him of an apple but was gold with neon spots, and Italian type dressing that he put far too much on. Though, as luck would have it, the moment he went to take a bite, he heard it again. Clearly this time, and filled with more pain, there was a sobbing noise from somewhere nearby. It didn’t really sound natural, felt all sorts of off, but hey, what was a doctor gonna do. Ignore it? Like he could do that.

Shrugging to himself, he picked up the bowl his salad was in, grabbed a fork and took a bite, and then headed out. He followed the noise, not all that impressed by the crying, but hey. It probably would be convincing enough for plenty, and Len really wasn’t one to correct anyone about anything. Because he was all about not getting involved and helping anyone.

Ignore the clinic he runs, where all he does is help people.

It didn’t take him long to find the old storage room. He stepped in and eyed Mixie, while standing a little off to the side and taking another bite of his overdue lunch. “Why do these things always happen on a pretty day? Who wants to go explore some dark hole when they could be outside in the sun?” With a sigh, Len nudged some dust on the ground with his foot, and swept his gaze around the room suspiciously. Right. Great. His food was going to get dusty, he just knew it. Ugh.

But the thing was crying still, and as unimpressed Len was, he was here, and he might as well wander around. Sighing to himself, and with a lazy wave to Mixie, he ducked into the hole. Inching forward, he muttered under his breath something very not nice at how dark it was, though he was pretty unconcerned. Continuing to chew on his salad, the doctor took careful steps deeper into the darkness. He thought he might be following the crying, but if we were honest, he’s really far more interested in his salad. Hopefully whatever dark and scary thing that was most definitely lurking let him eat more of it first. He was hungry.

[Deleted]

Oph was thoroughly enjoying the nice breeze. She was inside her but with all windows and doors open. In the Chameleon Room- which changed to whatever she needed right before entering- she was standing over a small cauldron on a long table, dried flowers and herbs covering the surface on either side. Small glass vials were also scattered into the array holding liquids of varying densities and colors. A row of empty vials surrounded the cauldron in a half circle behind it, waiting to be filled. The elf was preparing for winter, brewing currently a batch of cure disease potions.

She was humming while she worked, hands moving swiftly and confidentially between ingredients and stirring the cherry-smelling potion in the cauldron. She paused suddenly, staring intently at her work, watching as the liquid turned from a red color to a light, crisp blue. Grinning, the elf snuffed out the fire beneath her cauldron with a quick spell and began to poor the solution into the empty vials.

As she was stoppering the last one, a chilling breeze reached her open window and swept into the room. She set the vial down and jerked her gaze towards the window. The hut was dulling in the intensity of the sunlight coming into the room so she didn't need her blindfold and Ophyra peered at it with narrowed eyes out of suspicion, not necessity. The room's door opened of its own accord and the witch rolled her eyes, a scowl twisting her lips. "Must you insist that I investigate everything?" She queried to seemingly nothing as she glowered around the room. The hut, being semi-sentient, exuded the air of assertion into the room she was in. Ophyra sighed. "Fine. You clean up then," she instructed as she gestured to the covered table.

She exited the room as the ingredients began to put away themselves, closing the door firmly behind her. As she took her cloak off it's hook and clasped it at her throat, her gaze strayed outside where her wolf, the ikal'daka, was. He was outside laying sprawled on a stone slab, taking a nap. The elf decided then not to ask him to accompany her and instead let him enjoy his nap. She tied a gauzy black blindfold around her eyes and exited her hut.

As she left her home, the chilling breeze swept through again and brought along with it the sound of a crying creature. The sound pierced her pointed ears and caused her to stumble, a chill sweeping through her. Oph scowled as an unsettling feeling struck into her very bones. Still, she pressed on, now following the sound of the cries to lead her way.

It took her a while to get to Mixie's shop. She glanced around nut didn't know who had claimed the spot as their own, as Meow Mix wasn't there. Obviously. That didn't stop the witch from pressing on though, crossing through the workshop to follow the cries further into the cave. She eventually found the storage room and noted the presence of Mixie and her mecha suit. Assuming she was the occupant of this cave and the workshop at the mouth of it, she gave a short wave of her fingers in greeting. Before doing anything else, she removed her blindfold, giving a satisfactory huff as her sight restrictions were removed.

"That's better," she said, more to herself than anyone, and tucked the blindfold away in her cloak. She approached the crack between the two boxes, peering inside. She grumbled something about tight spaces, but said nothing more before plunging herself inside. A few seconds in, Meow Mix would hear her curse loudly. She had left her wand in her Witch's Hut. Great.

[Deleted]

Somewhere high in the weyrd a bearded dragon was making the most of the unseasonably warm day by sunning itself on the rocks. It had been there for several hours and while not exactly asleep, it was not entirely awake either. Sometimes life picks you up out of a bank vault, dumps you in a dark cave, and leaves you stranded in the faewild with no means of getting home and apparently being in the one part of the otherwhere in which not a single person knew what a portal was or how to make one to send her home and by the time she got there Jack was going to be so pissed she probably wasn't going to have a job anymore.

You know, those kinds of weeks.

And sometimes in those kinds of weeks you just have to take a few hours to enjoy the little things in life. Like laying in a warm patch of sunlight as a lizard and soaking up the heat. Alice would never want to be cold-blooded full time, but there was something to be said for experiencing an unseasonably warm day as a cold-blooded creature. They just felt heat differently. A sensation you really couldn't get by being warm-blooded. She had once tried to describe it as the tingling sensation you get when leaping from hot concrete into a cold pool, only with warmth instead. Stacie had not understood one bit. Black Claws were simple folk like that.

Alice's daydream was interrupted by a chill wind, a shock so sudden and unexpected that she found herself back in human form before the unpleasantness could seep into her hide. And as she re-oriented herself to having opposable thumbs she realized something else was carried on that wind. A cry. Pain or fear or something more primal, she couldn't say. And what she knew for certain was that it wasn't human.

A few days ago Alice would have pretended not to hear it. But something about this excursion into the faewild had woken something back up in Alice that had been dormant for awhile. Curiosity, wanderlust.

But it didn't stop her from thinking that she was not getting paid enough for this.

The woman leaped off the high ledge, and a red-tailed hawk spread it's wings and followed the sound, crossing the threshold into the caves as a human once more and working her way towards the source of the sound to find Mixie and a Leonard disappearing into a crack in the wall. The brief thought crossed her mind how interesting it was that someone else had lived here and part of her wondered where they had gone and why this place seemed to abandoned, but she didn't give the thought much brain power, looking instead at the mech-rat as the sound crossed the air again. "What is that?" She asked, but her curiosity didn't actually care what the answer was, and regardless of what Mixie said the woman took the form of a pale grey mouse and carefully headed into the hole, moving slowly as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

[Deleted]

The crack in the mountain was fairly narrow and low, forcing all but the smallest explorers to duck their heads and shuffle sideways to be able to squeeze through. Even Tiberius and Ophyra's narrow frames would block most of the dim light that filtered in from the store room... and even that light petered away to darkness as the passage sloped steadily downwards. After several meters of tight squeeze, the crack opened up into a proper tunnel- narrow enough to reach both walls without stretching and low enough to still have to duck (unless, like Alice, one happened to be as small as a mouse), but a tunnel nevertheless.

The hard packed dirt underfoot soon gave way to bare rock. It wasn't long, though, before the tunnel abruptly seemed to run out of floor. After a particularly lumpy section of passageway, where the unwary could easily twist an ankle between the smooth, slippery stones that made up the path, the previously gentle slope took a sharp downward turn. Between smooth, time-worn stones and a scattering of loose scree, there was no way to go forward without taking a rough slide down into the darkness.

Whee!

Thankfully, instead of a fathomless abyss or pit of razor-sharp spikes, the steep hill bottomed out into a relatively open area.

How open, it was hard to tell.

A dim glow seemed to suffuse the empty space, reflected from stagnant pools of water that lay on the stony floor. Stalagmites and stalactites rose into and lowered themselves out of the darkness- some of them as narrow as a finger, others thicker than a grown man's waist, some meeting to form hour-glass-waisted columns, others missing their partners and looking like jagged teeth. Their damp sides glistened wetly in the not-quite-light, twisted into shapes both unnerving and unnatural. Down here, there was no more cold wind. The air was almost eerily still. It was cool- not uncomfortably so, but noticibly chilly, and damp, and there was a scent in the air of water and wet stone and that particular musty undertone that came from air that had not touched the outside world in an untold length of time.

The sounds of distress were louder down here. The echoes and the accompanying dripping and trickling sounds of water from all around made it impossible to tell where the sounds were coming from, however. There was only a chorus of pain, whimpering and moaning in the darkness.

And eyes.

Ten pairs of eyes.

By far the brightest lights down here, the eyes of the Apparition all but shone like beacons. The birds were perched around the cavern, clinging to their stony perches, watching the hapless explorers that had followed them with an open mixture of curiosity and hostility.

The Hope You Guessed My Name Remnant was not oblivious to Tiberius's presence. The texture of the boy's mind was fascinating, to say the least. There was fear there, and pain, and an entire unspoken world of old hurts barely scabbed over. It wasn't his favorite flavor of mind, by far, but it was interesting, and not unpalatable. Even as he croaked out a curious little noise of observation, however, the Remnant was interrupted by a loud shriek of irritation. The Celestial Beauty Allure had noticed that there was attention being paid, and was not thrilled to see that someone else was getting any of it. The brilliant red Requiae was quick to dart to the Remnant's side, chattering angrily, but the noise subsided to a mental grumble as the larger bird stared her down with clear disdain.

With another curious glance at Tiberius, the Remnant spread his wings and dropped off the high stalagmite he'd been clinging to, gliding into the darkness towards the left side of the cavern. The path seemed slightly more clear in that direction, but the sound of trickling water would get louder, and the floor dipped alarmingly into surprisingly deep and icy cold puddles. It looked like it was going to be a wet journey.

As if to spite the large male, the Celestial Beauty Allure gave one last, haughty, sneering look in his direction before taking off the opposite way- going right. There seemed to be a lot more stalactites and stalagmites in that direction, growing closer together, and there was no clear path between the slick, sharp stones.

Leonard, on the other hand, was attracting attention of a different sort.

His salad looked delicious.

The Wolf at the Door Allure didn't care whether or not she could physically eat salad, of course. That she was a soul-sucking demonbird that fed on emotions and had no use for croutons was irrelevant. Leonard HAD something. She WANTED it. The was a flash of metallic pinions in the darkness as the garnet-colored bird launched herself at the renegade reaper, her talons scrabbling at and latching onto the rim of his salad bowl. If his grip wasn't up to the task, she'd snatch the entire thing from his hands- if it was, she'd perch on the edge and glower at him like he were some kind of twisted Disney Princess. This was HER salad now, buddy, and he'd better get his hands off.

Alice... might have made a mistake, coming down here in such a tiny, delicious-looking form when large, vicious predators were flying around. One could almost assume that the Skeleton in the Closet Phantom had been watching and WAITING for something small and crunchy to come his way. No sooner would Alice hit the floor and get on her feet than she'd find herself snatched up by the Phantom's eager talons. To be fair, this might have been saving her a rough bit of traveling, because the Phantom immediately took off forward into the dark cavern, and it wasn't an easy direction to follow. The ground rose up sharply, and the slick and tangled stones would make one hell of a climb for anyone not being carried by a hungry demon bird.

Ophyra, for her part, was probably going to wish she'd stuck with the potion making. Within seconds of her making her way down into the cavern, the soft noises of pain in the background were abruptly drowned out by a much louder, wailing sort of cry- the sort made by a particularly young and demanding Sniveling Infant of a Legacy whose daddy had wandered off and left him behind with no food or comfort or attention. The little blue bastard was quick to throw himself off of his perch and to the floor near Ophyra's feet, his wings shaking pathetically as he shrieked like a banshee- the sound echoing enough in the confines of the cave to prove nearly deafening.

One could almost assume that the rest of the Apparition had already long since had their fill of this behavior from the tiny Legacy, for rather than doing even the least possible to comfort the little fellow, they instead quickly took wing... all except the All That Glitters Legacy, who stayed on his rock, watching the others with a cocked head and a blank stare, and the In Memorium Lament, who spread ragged wings a little tenderly before fluffing her feathers and just settling with a rattling little shuffle. She was too old for this flying in circles nonsense the others were so keen on.

[Deleted]

Leonard couldn’t see much at all in the cave. That was interesting enough, since the dark usually didn’t bother him too much, but hey, it was what it was. Crunching noisely on the salad, he carefully continued forward, even as it turned more rocky and dangerous. Bunch of idiots they were. Someone was most certainly going to break an ankle, and like hell Len was going to carry someone through the creepy cave. But one careful step at a time, he moved forward, but even as careful as he was, he absolutely didn’t catch on to there being a sharp slope.

Down the doctor went, though he was pretty good at saving his salad. Though there was doubtlessly some rather unhappy cursing, because no, not fun. Not fun at all. But his salad was still okay! That was good news.

He hauled himself up, wanting to get out of the way, certain other people would be following. Moving further into the cavern, he frowned a little at the setting. He had to shake his head a bit, because the sound of distress and pain were worse here, and it was annoying him and hurting his head a little bit. But he was far more interested in the creatures that were hanging out. He had no idea what they were, certainly weren’t sure if they were dangerous (though he guessed they were) or friendly, and well. It was probably all their fault.

Even if it wasn’t, Leonard was going to blame him.

He kept an eye on them, bowl firmly held as he took another bite, and just kind of waited to see what was going to happen.

And he didn’t have to wait long, either.

He saw the flash of color and quickly braced himself for some sort of attack. But the Wolf at the door Allure seemed more interested in his salad. The doctor most definitely kept a firm hold on his lunch, unwilling to give it over to some demonbird, and just glared back at her as she ended up perched on the rim of the bowl. “I will stab you with a fork.” He warned, waving said fork in a vaguely threatening gesture. “It’s my lunch.” He didn’t really want to go stabbing animals with eating utensils, but don’t think he wouldn’t be victorious in this. It was a damn good salad.

Even with his new passenger, he moved a little further into the cavern, possibly in the direction that the Isolated Melancholy Omen was going in. “How about you just be a doll and play nice, huh? Maybe I’ll share somethin’ with you later.” Didn’t expect that to work, but, whatever.

And yes, he totally, purposely, took another bite of salad as he stared the Allure down. Because he was a dick.

[Deleted]

Tiberius wasn't exactly thrilled with any of this. Obviously. It was dark and his head hurt and the ground was uneven and rocky. He wished he had thought to bring a light of some sort, but noo. No thinking ahead for him. Though knowing his luck, the light probably wouldn't have worked, or would have broken, or what have you. Today was already a bad day.

Needless to say, Tiberius certainly had no way of knowing about the drop ahead, and there was no time at all to try and catch himself as the ground slanted sharply down. Down the teen went, with plenty of flailing and a surprised shout. And ow, also, by the way. There were definitely going to be some scrapes and bruises, both from the undignified fall and his failed attempts at catching himself.

He pulled himself up and rubbed his palms on his pants, clearing out some of the small rocks and grime that clung. But, mostly, he was distracted with what he was seeing. The cavern was huge, and the distressed noise was loud, and there were birds everywhere. Were they the ones that were hurt? Or was it a trick to get him here? Or maybe something else was still hurt out there, and it was the fault of those things...or they were asking for help. So many questions and no answers, at all.

Promptly deciding a reason was not needed for him to be here, and finding a bit of strength from the fact he wasn't alone, he stepped further inside the main cavern. He wasn't entirely sure where to go from here, as the noise sounded everywhere, and those birds were flying around, too. Or harassing people. And while he was thankful nothing was trying to maul him, he knew he just couldn't stay here and wait for something to happen. It was tempting to maybe go check out one of the birds that were just hanging out, and his gaze stayed on the In Memorium Lament for a long minute. He stepped her way, hesitating a moment, before calling out. "Wanna come with me?" She looked old and tired, and while he didn't know if he was right, if she'd even understand or care, or might even possibly be insulted, well. He could ask. He was still ready to go exploring, though, with a companion or not.

He didn't want to, of course, and there was no denying the fear or wariness he felt, but he was stronger than that. There still might be someone hurt out there, and it wasn't going to be his fault if something died because he couldn't get moving. With a deep breath, he took another look around, and then started off towards the left, whether the Lament joined him or not. He had spotted the Remnant, and figured following him was good as anything. The way over there seemed a little more clear, at least.

Though the path was anything but. And the first time Tiberius stepped in a freezing cold puddle he didn't see, there would be a loud curse. "Fuck my life." He hissed, promptly stumbling into another puddle. "Never going into these goddamned caves again." There better be something to save, at the end of all of this. Or he was going to hate life even more.

[Deleted]

Alice didn't fear predators. As a creature who fed on humans she was the top of the food chain. And with her ability to shape-shift she was even more than that. Even if something caught her, even if it managed to swallow her, she could get out from the inside. It wasn't pretty, but it was possible and preferable to dying. If she didn't do it well... someone else would.

At least, that was the case until her lizard brain kicked in. Or mouse brain as the case may be. Sure she was fine going down the slope, it took more than a bit of a fall to hurt a vampire, but once the Requiae plucked her up? She pretty much reacted exactly how you think a mouse would, which was to scream and then go limp and hope it wasn't interested in dead food.

What? She's just a bank teller what do you want from her?

Of course that didn't stop her from watching through one lidded eye as the world flew by. And by the time she got enough of a grip on herself to remember she wasn't actually it was too late to try and shift now. She wasn't entirely certain this bird would let her go if she shifted, and if it did she didn't want to end up on the spikes. Sure they probably wouldn't kill her, but they would certainly hurt like a bitch and frankly she'd rather not. So instead she stayed a mouse, watching the world go by from the birds talons and really hoping it wasn't carrying her off to somewhere she wouldn't be able to get out of. Like a nest of bones and sunlight or something.

[Deleted]

If there was any sort of cry that would catch Luna's attention, it was certainly the cries of children. The cries of children would alert anyone, wouldn't it?

She had been...wandering, really. It was hard to call it anything else. She had no purpose here, she didn't gain experience, she didn't have quests, no projects, nothing. All she had to do was survive. It was exceptionally confusing, trying to balance the fact that she was herself with the fact that she was in her avatar's body. She stroked the barrel of her revolver while she thought. She'd found some normal clothes for herself, it didn't seem that her scanty armor would do much in this world, and consistently carried the Iliad and the Odyssey with her. She wondered if she'd be able to use them. It wasn't like her regular world self was particularly savvy with weapons...

The cries snapped her to her attention. She'd been wandering around the Weyrd, sort of keeping to herself, sort of trying to eaves drop on people to understand what was happening at any given moment of any given day. There were all sorts of people and creatures everywhere, and she felt like she always had to be on her toes. Some video-game-hero instinct kicked in, and she found herself pushing through some people to follow the breeze, stumbling passed buildings, until she was in front of workshop. Well, she wasn't sure exactly what sort of building it was, but she did walk in (gaming habit, you didn't knock on an NPC's shop) and made herself to a crack in the wall. She shouldn't go in, right? She shouldn't. Another gust of wind swept by, and the cries continued, louder. Goddamnit, why couldn't quests ever start with cute things?

She barely had time to catch the difference in terrain underfoot before she found herself in the air, and felt a thud hitting the ground. She groaned, unaware for a second that she was invading some people's space. Late to the party it seemed. She rubbed at her tailbone, she didn't like that she could feel pain now, adjusting to the choir of cries and drips of water. And then there was screaming. Her eyes were not at all adjusted to the light, and she instinctively reached her hands upward and held them over her ears, to block out some of the noise until it stopped. She blinked several times, for the most part totally blind besides some movement. Like swooshes and, well, she couldn't really tell. There were some large masses, some smaller, and she felt herself reach for her scimitar, but then halted. What if she swung blindly and hit one of the kids? Though, some part of her deep in the pits of her stomach poked at her saying maybe there weren't any kids down here. Which...that'd be great news, except for the fact that now she was trapped. She stumbled to her feet, rump still aching, head ringing with all of the sounds she needed to take in. If she couldn't see well, would her other senses increase? Isn't that what was supposed to happen? If she was in game she'd light a torch, but she needed to get used to the fact that she wasn't in game anymore.

[Deleted]

Tyr liked caves. Tyr'd lived in caves her whole life, and loved every minute of it. Surrounded by shiny things, warmed by dragon fire, never dark between her own darkvision and the dragon's penchant for lighting their hoards so they could see them shine. Iskotyra had never really met a cave that wasn't good to her -- never so winding or confusing that she couldn't figure it out. Never so cold that she was uncomfortable. The family warren was tricky, sure, was sometimes cool and often isolated, but...it was home.

This wasn't home, and it was cold, and Tyr was starting to feel like she didn't like it.

That was a novel feeling, but it didn't necessarily make her happy.

Her friend-wolf couldn't follow her, either, which really didn't help her outlook on this cave.

Scuffing her knee on a sharp rock, the girl paused in her descent, taking a few sharp breaths in through her nose. ow. Io, that hurt. Why couldn't she see? That wasn't right. She could see in the dark; it was as much a part of her as breathing or being amazing. She could barely make out the natural curves of the narrow passageway, though, hardly see the vague outline of --

The floor disappearing beneath her, as she started shuffling forward again. "AAAAaah!" Without meaning to, she screamed, wincing for the transgression even as she hit the ground. It echoed somewhere in the distance, but beyond that and the pain of landing, she could see eyes. Not dragon eyes, either, too small even for hatchlings. "Hello?" The girl called, quiet, over the rustle of...wings? But metal. Wings weren't supposed to be made out of metal, she didn't think, but caves made things sound weird sometimes. "Is anybody here?"

Normally, she'd have been able to see. Normally, she wouldn't be crouching on the ground, having gotten her nice pants dirty and possibly torn on that last bump (a thought that didn't bear thinking, so she didn't think it too hard). Normally, she'd have been delighted about this opportunity for exploring somewhere she'd never been. When she could see in a cave as well as she could see in a clearing outside. When she wasn't hearing weird things, strange echoes she knew weren't right. Weren't real?

The All That Glitters Legacy was still here. He looked like he had about as much of a clue as to what was going on as Tyr did, scooting slowly closer to the remaining pair of glowing eyes. "Hello? Are you a bird?" The girl whispered, maybe a little fearful. She could see...feathers? Were those feathers? "Do you know where we are?"

[Deleted]

Oh, that was nice. The sound of the creature that was distressed was ebbing away. She'd enjoy this more if it wasn't replaced with a sound that was more whiney and considerably less desirable. She cringed, pausing in her forward advance to look around to find the source of the noise. As if on que, the Legacy threw himself down in front of her. By her feet, it thrashed it's wings and wailed. Too shocked to react at first, she took in the sight; a large, crow-looking bird whose feathers looked mean and razor-edged. It otherwise looked friendly enough, with soft coloring and an almost baby like face- for a bird anyways.

The others taking wing broke her stare, and she turned her head sharply to watch them. The witch took note of The All That Glitters Legacy sitting there vacantly, and the older Lament who looked like she'd seen some shit, to put it nicely. The witch eyed the circling birds overhead a moment before taking a good look at the Sniveling Infant Legacy. Once she saw he had no outward injuries, she said, "You're fine. Stop that," and stepped around him.

She instead approached the In Memorium Lament, still increasingly aware of the ones still flying above. "Are all of you stuck in here?" She asked. The elf paused to reflect and something and snorted lightly at herself. "Look at me, casually asking a.. a... what are you, are crow?" Ophyra shook her head. "Asking whatever you are questions without a second thought. Haven't been here longer than a moon cycle and I've already been corrupted." When in rome, eh?

[This is assuming nobody sees each other in here! I'll edit if I made a booboo :)]

[Deleted]

Leonard was not going to have an easy time following the Isolated Melancholy Omen. As if it weren't going to be difficult to tail a black-on-black bird in the middle of a black-on-black cavern (rainbowy feather edges notwithstanding), the little male had picked a path that wasn't going to do Leonard any favors. He couldn't just go left, where the clear but wet trail led, noooo. He went the exact opposite direction- right- following the Celestial Beauty Allure. The stalactites and stalagmites seemed to proliferate on that side of the room, leaving only narrow gaps between them, with spikes rising and falling alarmingly near a potential explorer's head and nethers. The tangled stones were slick with dripping, mineral-rich water, and there was no clear footing to be had. Any explorer who continued through would find themselves in a rather breathless squeeze, their faces pressed against stones whose warped surfaces almost seemed to leer at them.

If Leonard was rethinking his decision to follow the birds that led him in that uncomfortable direction, two factors might help to tighten his resolve.

One: there was very definitely a low moan coming from the tight, slippery darkness ahead. It echoed confusingly in the larger cavern that all the explorers fell into, but, closer to this side of the cave, it was easier to tell where the sound originated from. Somewhere on the... well, path might be too generous of a term, but somewhere in the direction ahead there was definitely something moaning in hollow, broken agony.

And two: the Wolf at the Door Allure was also a dick.

She was clearly listening as Leonard spoke to her, her feathery little head cocked in attention. Those silvery eyes watched the movement of his fork with great concentration. As he lowered it to grab another bite of salad, she lunged, digging into his fingers with a beak sharp enough to shred flesh, and then moved like a flash- snatching the fork right out of the bowl and BOLTING ahead into the darkness. Threaten her with a weapon, would he? Guess he'd have to follow if he didn't want to eat his salad with dirty, bloodied fingers.

There was no nest of bones and sunlight waiting for Alice. There was no nest of anything on the narrow platform that the Skeleton in the Closet Phantom brought her up to and dropped her mousy little self down onto. There was just a vertical, almost sheer rock wall on one side, facing the cavern they'd all come from, and on the other side, a narrow ledge continuing back into the darkness. It seemed there was a hell of a chasm hiding under the Weyrd, for what began as a crack almost narrow enough to jump across broadened out into a crack wide enough to almost justify the title of canyon. How deep it ran, it was impossible to tell in this darkness, but the trickle of water and rush of wind could be heard far below. There was a ledge running along this side of it, broad enough for even a full sized human to walk along, but how far it would continue was anyone's guess.

Not that the Phantom was just going to let Alice wander off or anything.

He didn't know the vampire well enough to get a proper look at her mind, but she was a fascinating creature. In this shape, she had two minds, after all- and he knew mouse minds far too well. Even as she was dumped unceremoniously on the cold stone, Alice would find her mind filled with instinctive images from her mousy side- racial memories that were programmed into any rodent. The flash of claws and beaks and feathers. The raw terror of flight. The utter defeat of helplessness. A mouse knew what all these were, and the Skeleton in the Closet Phantom wanted her to know, too. She wasn't going to be left alone for this trip down instinctive memory lane, either. Oh no. There was another Requiae who was very interested in pulling up a metaphorical chair and munching on some metaphorical popcorn while watching the show. With an ungracious crash and scattering of pebbles and scree, Alice and Phantom found themselves joined by the Spiteful Tittering Omen, who quickly added a mental echo of derisive laughter to the jolly fun times that Alice would be experiencing. Weren't Requiae delightful?

Iskotyra would find the All That Glitters Legacy to be a bit less that fruitful, if it was answers she was seeking. The small Requiae continued to sit on the broken-off stump of a stalagmite it had settled on, staring blankly at the approaching elf-girl. Her questions made about as much sense to him as the cavern noises and lack of vision did to Tyr. This was not to say that she would not get an answer, however. With a loud, rattling fluff of it's disordered feathers, the All That Glitters Legacy settled a little more comfortably on it's rock, before uttering a single loud, inquisitive sort of "Rawk?"

That was, at least, until the Spiteful Tittering Omen joined the Skeleton in the Closet Phantom at the top of the cliff. The Omen's landing had sent a clatter of pebbles dancing down the almost sheer rock face leading up to that ledge, and among those pebbles was some stray chunk of mica or quartz, or perhaps even a gemstone- one could never tell around here, especially not from this distance. It hardly mattered, though. With a much louder "Rawk!" the All That Glitters Legacy took off, landing on a jutting handhold about halfway up the rock face, where he balanced awkwardly (with much flapping of wings) while banging his beaked face against the stone, trying to squeeze his head in to a crack there far enough to get at the shiny pebble that had caught his attention from across the cave.

If Iskotyra wanted to follow him, she'd have to pick her way across the sharp and shattered stones and find a way to climb in the dark... though if she had something shiny enough on her person, perhaps her companion could be lured back to her side. One never knew.

The Snivelling Infant Legacy had never been more insulted in it's life. Well, today, at least. Ophyra had given him barely a second of attention before dismissing him. Dismissing! Him! He was fine? FINE? He was ALONE and STARVING in the DARK and had been LEFT BEHIND and there was nothing FINE about any of that! The youngster's cries took on a much more frantic pitch as Ophyra walked away, and he even followed her for a few hopping, hesitant steps before pulling his wings back in closer and shutting his beak with a vicious snap.

His father was going to hear about this.

Leaving Ophyra behind, the Legacy turned due left, where the Hope You Guessed My Name Remnant had gone, and started hopping and fluttering in that direction.

As the volume in the cavern mercifully dropped, the In Memorium Lament almost sagged with visible relief. No one needed to hear that nonsense. The elderly Requiae shifted slightly on her perch as Ophyra and Tiberius both approached her, her bright eyes shifting back and forth between them in open curiosity. Such a friendly pair of youngsters! Whether or not she understood the witch's questions was up for debate, for the voiceless bird certainly did not answer. She wasn't a crow, not that Ophyra would know that, but she was no parrot, either, able to mimic human speech. Her head shook briefly back and forth, though- whether in wordless answer to one of the questions or simply in avian reflex, it was hard to say.

One thing, though, she made abundantly clear. As Tiberius offered her a ride, she shuffled slightly, clearly about to take him up on his offer... until she saw him heading in the same direction the screaming Infant Legacy had taken. Noooope. The shuffle stopped abruptly, and she settled her old bones a little more gingerly on the rough stone perch. Nope. Nuh-uh. Had enough of that, thank you very much. She would stay here with more polite company.

Tiberius wouldn't have very long to be lonely, though. He wouldn't get much more than a couple puddles in before being all but tackled by the Sniveling Infant Legacy, who was most certainly not going to be hopping and shuffling over puddles himself when there was such a warm dry perch available. The young Requiae clawed and climbed his way up Tiberius's back, with or without his assistance, before settling on his shoulder. At least the young man's path wasn't as difficult to travel as the others, though. There was definitely space to walk, though the low ceiling made one uncomfortably aware of the weight of untold tons of stone pressing down onto their heads. All around them, down here, the sounds of water got louder. The drips were joined by steady trickles, and water leaked from the ceiling and cracks in the walls, soon joining together into a proper shallow stream. The air was full of a quavering, sickly half-light, emanating both from the stream and the thick slime that darkened the walls and slicked the ground underfoot. Water always flowed somewhere, though. There was a deeper sort of wet sound echoing ahead, and, just faintly, a weak sounding cry of pain.

With her siblings having mostly scattered, the Dante's Inferno Scourge came back down to land, watching the remaining explorers curiously. Anyone could die down here, after all. Iskotyra was in a good sort of position to break her neck if she tried taking the climb ahead of her, and Alice could easily fall if she tried climbing down. Leonard could break his ankle or get trapped by a falling rock. Luna didn't look injured, but she had a confused sort of vulnerability about her, and that was appealing. Anyone could die down here... and they wouldn't be the first, nor the last. It would be fascinating to see how well the travelers all fared.






OOC EDIT: Just to make sure this is perfectly clear!

With the requiae branching off into different directions, you are perfectly welcome to have your characters see and interact with other characters that are nearby!

All I ask is that, if you've got more than one character here, that you don't have them going in the same direction. I just don't want people interacting with themselves.

With other people? Go for it!

[Deleted]

Tiberius did realize he had headed off by himself, the Lament choosing not to take him up on his offer, but that was fine. Couldn’t even blame her, with how things were looking on his path. He could hear the water flowing, and he really was hoping he wasn’t on a path that ended up with him having to swim. It was already damn cold and clammy, and gods only knew what kind of things would be in the water.

But hey, it wasn’t long at all before he figured out he wasn’t alone. He had no idea where the Remnant had gone, but he wasn’t too concerned. Frankly, he was a bit distracted by the Snivelling Infant Legacy climbing up him. “Hey!” He yelped, “I’m not a damned tree!” He flailed a little, but he didn’t make any effort to try to knock him off. He simply tried to help the youngster up without having to bleed too much.

He had stopped briefly, letting the Requia settle on his shoulder, though he shot it a somewhat wary look. The Legacy certainly looked a little smaller than the brief glances from others he’d seen, and he did wonder if it was a youngster. “Don’t make me bleed anymore and I’ll carry you the entire way.” That sounded fair, right? Tiberius thought it was fair. Doubted the bird understood, but hey, whatever.

Carefully moving forward, he continued to follow the path. Besides the puddles, things seemed fairly easy going right now, a clinging razor-bird notwithstanding. There was room in the tunnel, though he was grateful he wasn’t taller. He was certainly feeling a bit trapped, as he saw no real way to escape. He could go back, or he could keep going forward. The sound of water was getting ever louder, but he found that better than just silence.

Though the further he went, the more aware of water he became. He had to slow down a little, because water was dripping and the path and walls were getting slick around him. He had to catch himself at one point, slime underfoot making him trip -- he caught himself on the wall, jarring the Legacy a little, but his free hand came up to make sure the Infant didn’t fall off.

“Ew.” He complained, a little hushed. The sound of the water was loud, but he just felt the need to be quiet. Who knew what was lurking around the corner.

“Do you hear that?” He carefully moved away from the wall, head cocked a little as he tried to pinpoint the sound. “That isn’t another one of your friends, is it?” He asked, uncaring he was all but talking to himself. It made him feel better. He didn’t need the Legacy to understand him. He couldn’t really see much, the half light letting him make out rough shapes, but not much else. He could hear the crying sound of pain, though he wasn’t sure where. Could only keep moving forward, and hoped that he didn’t come across something that was hurting anyone. Finding someone lost and hurt in a cave was better than finding someone being mauled.

[Deleted]

See? That screeching crow had been just fine. She had heard the snap of its beak, and smugly turned to watch it turn left, following after one of the other birds that had been flying around. After seeing it disappear into darkness, the elf turned back to the In Memorium Lament. She hadn't even noticed Tiberius had been wtih her as well, but no matter, because he too took the left corridor out of this cramped cavern. Left was really popular, it seeemed. As the Lament shook her head, Ophyra idly wondered what question it was in response to- then realized it could not be a response at all. She was just assuming that all of these creatures understood the intricacies of common.

There was a lot of squawking and wing flapping going on, but it died down- safe for that of the All That Glitters Legacy, who sounded to be still in the same room and was still flapping his wings. She couldn't quite see him that well, though, and that was quite alright. She also didn't see the Dante's Inferno Scourge lurking in the same cavern as her either, which was probably also quite alright. But she couldn't hear that wailing sound anymore, the one that had drawn her there in the first place. With her suspicion growing, Ophyra settled her blue eyes on the Lament. "I'm getting the feeling that there isn't anything in here suffering. Unless it was that other creature on the floor earlier," she said, meaning of course the Sniveling Infant. She eyed the Lament, then glanced around. She still couldn't really see anything, and she cursed softly, not realizing that there was a little girl in the area (not that Iskotyra's presence would really influenced the amount of cursing she did. Old habits die hard).

She was a Dusk Elf. Her kind were literally meant to be able to see in the dark. She had grown up most comfortable surrounded by it, in caves, dark houses, basements, and looking up at the stars outside in the moonlight. The fact that she couldn't here, that her gaze couldn't pierce the blankess that felt like it was painted on to block her sight, was starting to unsettle her. It made her uncharacteristically nervous. "What's making it so dark in here?" she asked, mainly to herself although she still locked eyes with the Lament as she said it. She doubted the seemingly friendly requiae was responsible for it; she didn't seem the type to lure and conquer, so to speak.

[Deleted]

The fear that flooded into Alice was indistinct, she was a mouse, with all the instincts and racial memories that came with, but she was predominantly human. She was also very familiar with what it felt like to have her mind and thoughts manipulated. It was most definitely not a feeling that she was going to sit and tolerate. Far be it, rather than cowering and trying to run or hide from the large birds looming over her she instead lunged. Shifting as she flung herself forward, the grey mouse changing into a white lioness as her vampiric momentum carried her towards the birds.

There was no grace in the attack, she was no practiced fighter by any means, but there was ferocity and determination. And more importantly there was anger. No one, no vampire nor bird nor anything else, would ever make her a victim of their mind games ever again. She would make them, Phantom and Omen both, regret ever thinking of her as nothing more than prey.

Sure maybe it was unreasonable to expect them to realize that she wasn't actually a mouse, considering she very much seemed to be a mouse in ever sense of the word, but that wasn't relevant to her right now. It was no the reasonable kind of anger. It was the unreasonable, vicious kind of anger that would tear these birds limb from limb if she got her teeth on them.

Just be glad she hadn't eaten anything recently. Had she a stockpile of blood to pull from these foul birds never would have stood a chance.

[Deleted]

Leonard wasn’t caring too much if he was following a bird or not. He wasn’t too interested in hanging out in the main cavern, and this way seemed right as anything. Where the Melancholy Omen went to, he didn’t quite notice. He was far too busy keeping an eye on the wannabe salad thief that was hanging out on his bowl. Not that the path he’d taken was an easy one -- things were slick, the stones damp with water and god knows what else. There was an uncomfortable amount of low hanging and jutting spikes everywhere, and that didn’t make things any easier.

But there was still a noise he’d heard, that sounded like pain, further along the path. And, what he thought was fake, or not, he still had to check it out.

And then that little witch of a bird freaking bit him and stole his fork and he was going to murder her.

“Get back here, you goddamned thief!” Leonard cursed. And cursed some more. And also, there was more cursing. In various different languages, both living and dead. Because that hurt, and he was bleeding, and oh hell no was she getting away with that. “I’m going to have roast whatever you are when I get my hands on you!” Len continued to bitch, even as he carefully inched his way through the barely there path. He kept his salad bowl close, and dripped blood on the ground, and oh, was he going to enjoy his dinner later. Stupid bird.

[Deleted]

Ah. This bird was...not as smart as Tiberius's bird. "Ugh." The half-elf sighed, staring hard at the dark outline of the bird who was. Now flying across the cave. Was he hitting his head on the rocks? "No, bird," Iskotyra yelped, hopping after him and attempting to ignore the mad sting in her knees. They hurt bad. "You're going to knock your brains out!" He didn't look like he could spare any brains!

There were birds somewhere up above, she could hear them, the Spiteful Omen and the Skeleton Phantom. Or...feel them? Was that a thing? Tyr didn't think that it was a thing, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up really a lot. She didn't feel good. This wasn't a good place, she was starting to think, and she tried hard not to panic when she remembered that it was too dark and she didn't actually really know her way out. Mother didn't know where she was, and --

It was okay. She'd be fine. "It's okay." The elfling muttered to herself, harshly, reminding herself of her station and her grown-upness. She was the second-oldest of the nest. She was big and she was fine.

Maybe the dumb bird wasn't going to be, though, still banging his head against a hole? Something in the rocks, that might have been a hole, or might not have. She couldn't see. She couldn't see anything good enough to tell what he was doing. Seriously, why couldn't she see, that was wrong. She never couldn't see in caves, no matter how dark they were. This was new, and she hated it. She hated it a lot.

Following the All That Glitters Legacy as far as she could, Tyr scrambled a little against the rock face. The rocks were sharp, viciously so, and when she tried to climb up to drag the bird back down -- trying hard to ignore the terrifying noises the other bird was making as it wandered off down another way -- she cut her legs some more. Nearby swearing distracted her from the sting, though, and the girl paused for a moment to fish through her pockets. She had to have something that would make light in there somewhere. Maybe mother could teach her a spell for light. Not being able to see was really bad.

The contents of her pocket were undoubtedly shiny; a few bangle bracelets, a ring a little too big but too shiny not to carry around with her, shiny pebbles she'd liked a lot. Tyr sighed when she came up empty-handed on lights, but didn't put her stuff away, ears perking a little at the sound of the voice nearby. "I can't see either," The girl whispered, glancing warily up into the gloom where the other birds loomed. Loomed? Was it threatening, what they were doing? ...yeah. It was. "I should be able to see." She wasn't scared, she didn't sound scared. You sound scared, Ophyra. "Do you think it's the birds?"

Speaking of. "Come back down! I want out of here!" Tyr yelled, up at the dumb bird banging its head on a rock. Well. She's the one yelling at the dumb bird, so really, who's so dumb here.