Something Wicked, This way comes; Watch-Whers are finished

"Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
Harpier cries. 'Tis time, 'tis time."

It was a languid summer night.

The setting of the sun had done little to dispel the heat of the day. Everything radiated with the warmth gathered from spending so long beneath a cloudless sky and hot sun. The sky was even clear now, though the smattering of stars above were blurred by the haze in the air. Yes, it was hot that sticky sort of hot that leaves a velvet layer of sweat on flesh just for being outside. It wasn’t the kind of night where anyone would want to move from their porch where they watched the flashes of heat lightning off in the distance while sipping some cool drink from a glass slick with condensation.

Too bad the heat lightning wasn’t accompanied by thunder but by the rumbling of drums. The rhythm would tell the careful listener what anyone could guess. The beast that would choose a night like tonight for its bonding was indeed that: a beast. Those that would embark into the oppressive night in the pursuit of the creatures were braver than most. Maybe, that was exactly what they wanted. Then again, Watch-Whers weren’t known for being particularly intuitive and it was those vile worm cousins of dragons that the drums sounded for.

Far outside the walls of the weyrd, near the very reaches of the jungle, the clutch waited for those who dared attend. Waited, because what else was there for them to do, wrapped as they were in the webs of a thousand spiders and doused with the green blood of their mother. It was curious how the drums even knew to play; there was no handler to watch over them. There were no lights inside the house that stood not too far. The gardens they were in had fallen into neglect and were overgrown. There were no signs of life at all, not even crickets’ songs or fireflies’ dancing. Well, that’s not entirely true. There was something moving, some foul beast keeping careful watch over the eggs.

While the abandoned house might’ve escaped the familiarity of any who assembled, the beast and all eight of his legs probably stirred up some kind of vague remembrance. Gask wasn’t exactly the forgettable sort, what with his extra limbs and eerie gait and all. The mutated Steel was watching, waiting. He knew those drums rumbling in the distance were for his children, knew that the humanoids would be coming. The carcass of the eggs’ mother lay deserted now as he entwined his extra length and extra limbs around the clutch, lifting his bloody snout to the air with nostrils flaring.

But, Gask wasn’t the only one waiting. As always, there were things lurking just beyond the shadows. Maybe they’d be friends, maybe they’d be foe. Those three Requiae lords hulking from the very top of the empty house certainly didn’t look friendly. Whatever was hiding in the dark though, well, they had yet to be seen. The weren’t slinking their way out, not yet. If they ever did, anyway. No, the residents of the weyrd would be facing Gask alone.

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair."

...Let's try and be nice and civil, guys. All the common sense rules apply. Don't be a dick OOC. In character actions means in character consequences. No godmoding or anything like that, though I reserve the right to do some teensy 'moding if need be. Blah, blah, blah.
...These are Whers. They might be tiny babies, but they're Whers gosh durnit. Things are going to get a little hairy, especially with papa Gask around. I'm not saying you're going to lose all your fingers and toes (I mean, I can arrange it if you want), but there's a 100% chance you're not going to leave without getting a little bloodied up. Whers need blood to bond after all~
...On the topic of nasty ol' papa Gask, it's up to you how you decide to deal with him. Try and offer him a sacrifice, attempt to subdue him if you dare, see how far you get trying to steal an egg, wait for the babies to come to you once they hatch, whatever. He's a mean sonofabitch so you might want to be careful. Or not. XD Up to you.
...As far as other shinies go, don't bring something that could be mistaken as a tasty Wher snack unless you want it to become a tasty Wher snack. I would generally avoid bringing shinies because you don't want to make Gask any madder, but hey. Not my call.
...Since I am finally out of school, I plan on doing this with small, frequent posts. Now, I'm not saying it's going to be you-post-I-post. But if a couple people post tonight, hey I might post again tomorrow. Post as often and much as you feel necessary. Though if things get out of hand, I might rein it in.
...And just so you know, not all of the eggs are going to hatch. Not all of the hatchlings are going to survive. That's just how it goes with Whers.
...Oh, if you want to send me some kind of preferences, like rank or personality, I don't mind. If you didn't catch the theme of these babies, it's Shakespeare. If you have prefs for that, why not. And, um, yeah. I make no promises!

Anastashia, Da'chetre, Geoffrey, Grimm, Lucas, Meliai, Ria, Saiph, T'Rae, Tracyn, Zaerias, Zeph

"Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

Egg one is a tad lumpy. More than a tad, really. It's misshapen beyond recognition, easily passible for a rock or some kind of ugly skull or something before you'd ever think it was an egg. You know, except for those hairline cracks running down its sides. Tracyn's Forgotten Answers Albino, Rosencrask & Da'chetre's Afforded Alternatives Albino, Guildenstersk

Egg two is the kind of egg you'd dream about finding. Well, if you dreamt about finding eggs. It's got the most perfect egg shape there is, narrower at the top but not by too much with a nice sturdy base. Not to mention, it's shell is a nearly blinding, unblemished white. Meliai's Excessive Enough Sapphire, Orsinsk

Egg three is about ready to fall apart. A spiderweb of cracks cover its surface, some of the fissures deeper than others. Tiny bits of shell have already begun to flake off where the cracks intersect. But whether it’s actually hatching or it’s just taken a beating is questionable. Unknown, deceased

Egg four is noticeably discolored. Sitting amidst the rest of the clutch, it's easy to see this one is the darkest of all the eggs. Granted, when the rest of the lot are milky white, it's not very hard to look dark when you're another color: a pale, sickly sort of green color. Proven Ocular Obsidian

Egg five and six are connected. At first glance, it’s not all that noticeable. It just sort of looks like the two eggs are leaning up against each other all nice and pretty. But, on closer inspection, their shells are actually fused together near their tops. Curious. But Soft Steel, deceased & Wherefore Art Ruby, deceased

Egg seven is easily lost among the other eggs. It's not particularly big or small. It's not all smooth and white, but it isn't pockmarked either. There's a speckle here and there, maybe a crack or two. Other than the fact it's holding up nine, you might not have noticed it at all. Dangerous Control Amethyst

Egg eight is the biggest of them all. It might actually be close to double in size compared to the other eggs. Or at least one of the normally sized eggs plus thirteen. It’s easy to see how nine can balance up against it. There’s a lot to balance up against. Unknown, deceased

Egg nine is rather round for an egg. Honestly, it looks more like a volleyball or something like that than an egg. It's a wonder it didn't just roll away. Then again, it is wedged rather neatly in between a few of the other eggs, namely seven and eight. Pray Sir Emerald

Egg ten is quite the speckled thing. Its shell looks almost as though it's been splattered with paint or, considering the nature of the thing, blood. Aside from the random droplets of color though, its not a particularly stunning egg. A lot of the others are bigger or better shaped. Geoffrey's Sought Supremacy Gold, Dominatrisk

Egg eleven is translucent, or it would be in the right light. Some kind of murky, shadowy thing sits beneath it’s surface. It’s too dark to make anything in particular out, but holding it up to a light to get a better look probably isn’t the best idea. That shell seems thin. Mind O'erthrown Silver, deceased

Egg twelve is, well, it's hatched. Though aside from a smear of egg goo in the grass, whatever was inside of it at one point is nowhere to be seen now. And besides, there are far more dangerous things to worry about than an empty shell and its missing contents. Gatsby's Sable Suited Bronze, Hamlesk

Egg thirteen is the smallest of the bunch. At least half the size of the rest of the eggs, it's hard to imagine anything fitting inside there. Not that hatchlings are all that big, but it's just so tiny. It can't possibly be holding anything worthwhile beneath its shell. Zaerias' Preposterously Pleased Sapphire, Zsk

"By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes:
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!"

Sought Supremacy Gold, Dominatrisk
Perhaps her rank has gone to her head or perhaps she was just born that way, but this isn't exactly the sort of Wher that you'd ever want to cross. This is the sort of Wher that gives the rest of her species a bad rap. Unpredictable, violent, territorial, the laundry list of her offenses goes on and on. Not that Dominatrisk much cares. She's stark mad or wonderful froward and either way she's got a hot temper and no qualms against slapping people around when they piss her off. By slapping, we actually mean a variety things that run the gamut from biting to clawing and honest to god anything in between. Not only does she not have qualms against roughing others up, this Gold downright enjoys it, gets off on it. Even her handler isn't safe from her nastiness, as Dominatrisk will quickly punish the foolish hominid for forgetting that she is much bigger and certainly much badder. Though honestly, who would be so very a fool to be bonded to hell? Hopefully, a fool with a stern hand and a strong constitution as it will take more than a little time and effort and certainly a lot of blood and bruises, maybe even broken bones, to tame this Gold. On the bright side, at least she can be tamed? Though once she’s finally bent to her handler's will, she might just be all the more terrifying. All that unbridled fury at some fool’s beck isn't a good thing in the slightest, even when some of that fury will always be reserved for him.

"What is she but a foul contending rebel and graceless traitor to her loving lord? I am asham’d that women are so simple to offer war where they should kneel for peace, or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, when they are bound to serve, love, and obey."

Speech: Italic #F9C842

Proven Ocular Obsidian, Moorsk
A peculiar Watch-Wher for certain, it is at first glance that this Obsidian seems to display all the qualities that make up a fine lord. Beyond simply the way he’s sturdily built, he’s got a commanding presence: confident and unflappable strides, a deep voice that just screams authoritative, and he just looks like he’s not afraid to crack some skulls to get an unruly legion of Whers in line. Well, he doesn’t just look it. He’s definitely not afraid to crack some skulls and that’s where all the trouble starts. For all he appears to be a good lord or Wher in general, there’s something off about him. Maybe it’s the way he always has to look twice at something or needs convincing that food isn’t poisoned or various other ridiculous little things like that. Or maybe it’s the way he suddenly flies off the handle and attacks: be it furniture, handler, or something (someone?) else. Honestly, he’s probably got more than a few screws loose. The more you spend time with Moorsk, the easier it is to notice. His handler will no doubt end up having a certain intimacy with all the Obsidian’s, well, let’s just call them quirks. See, the root of all his insanity might just lie in the fact that he’s got this idea about what a lord should be and some self-obsessed perfectionism buried deep down in him. He’s the one who looks bad when his handler does something foolish or his legion acts out, after all. Oh who are we kidding, he’s just completely off the deep end.

"Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, thou hadst been better have been born a dog than answer my wak’d wrath."

Speech: Italic #414A41

Pray Sir Emerald, Nursk
Jolly isn’t a word often used to describe a Watch-Wher, but she is nothing short of it. In fact, this Emerald could be considered downright silly. That is, as long as you’re not messing with her handler. Nursk’s got a bit of a mothering instinct in her. Kind of. When it’s a minor annoyance. The neighbor threatening you because you haven’t cut your lawn? She’ll take care of him, don’t worry. Somebody shove in front of you in a long line or even just look at you funny in the market? They’ll get their just desserts, never fear. She’ll solve all your petty problems, even if she has to make the problems up herself; she’s got quite the imagination for a Watch-Wher, for the record. Forget if you want Nursk to take care of you or not because she’s going to regardless. And she’s going to be entirely overdramatic about it, as well. Or did you forget she was rather silly? This Emerald will nip all your (imaginary) problems in the bud and then go on fussing about how exhausted she is and how horrible you are to ask these things of her even though you didn’t. Don’t expect her to be useful in an actual sticky situation though, she’ll probably just bite your hand off for bothering her while she has one of her imaginary ailments or just fret and fuss about how she doesn’t know what to do and oh woeful, woeful, woeful day!

"Now, afore God, I am so vexed that ever part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you sir, a word... If ye should lead her in a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say; for the gentlewoman is young, and therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing."

Speech: Italic #15F2A8

Preposterously Pleased Sapphire, Zsk
A troublemaker if there ever was one, this slight Sapphire manages to get into just about everything. If you ever find yourself tripping over nothing or your glass of milk mysteriously spilt, there’s a good chance this Wher is at the bottom of it. A tricky handful, Zsk delights in all manner of tricks and misfortunes that leave you perplexed as to how he even managed to pull them off. He’s entertained by frustration and all the accompanying silly noises that hominids make. And honestly, it’s best if you just let him frustrate you every so often and been entertained than trying to corral him in. He doesn’t do very well with being bored. It’s a rather bad state for him to be in. When he’s bored is when those innocent little tricksies get a little dangerous, a little destructive. Leave him alone in the house too long or lock him up in a kennel and, well, don’t expect either to be in one piece when you get back. If you try to just ignore him, don’t expect to leave with all of your fingers intact. And don’t expect him to take his grievances out with his handler alone, oh no. He likes watching just about everyone dance. If he’s not getting the required attention from his handler, he’ll take his terror and inflict it elsewhere and pretty much everywhere. With enough training though, there’s a chance you can use Zsk as a force for good or evil, whatever your prerogative.

"Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! ... And those things do best please me that befall preposterously.”

Speech: Italic #0099CC

Excessive Enough Sapphire, Orsinsk
It was once said that this Watch-Wher’s mind was very opal. Except, you know, it wasn’t actually said once but it should be. This is one moody Sapphire, though why shouldn’t he be? Being of the only common male rank, he has to suffer through most other Whers’ abuses. He totally isn’t befitting of his rank, except (yes, again) he totally is. He’s nervous and high-strung in the fact that his behavior can sometimes be seen as erratic. His mood swings from the highest of highs to lowest of lows at the littlest offense and he often can’t make up his mind about what he actually wants. Orsinsk commits to things quickly and easily; it’s both a blessing and a curse for his handler as he can be dissuaded just as easily. Perhaps the only thing for his handler to do is bribe him, flatter him, attend to his every frivolous whim. If he can ever make his mind up, he’s clear enough about what he wants. And it’s clear that the only thing he ever made his mind up about is that he’s power and passionate and self-centered enough that he totally deserves all the attention he demands. Please, have you ever seen another Sapphire that looks like this? Yeah, didn’t think so. Despite everything, Orsinsk is generally harmless; violence beyond a scratch here or a nip there takes too much resolve. All in all, he’s just a silly, moody thing.

"If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die... O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound, that breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: 'tis not so sweet now as it was before."

Speech: Italic #030372

Dangerous Control Amethyst, Desk
It’s a bit hard to pin this Watch-Wher down. She’s a furtive little lady. You’re actually not likely to spot her nine times out of ten, and that one time only because she wants you to see her. She just isn’t one for the limelight, though as a lowly Amethyst you can’t really blame her. There are a lot of bigger Whers out there, even though she might honestly be worse than the lot of them. While she keeps to herself out of the spotlight, she keeps a keen watch on everyone around her. When someone is up to something dastardly, that’s when you’ll see her. She appears to add fuel to the fire and be the mob behind whatever cause she thinks needs it. She’s never the leader, no. Her head doesn’t seem to work that way; it’s like she has no original thought of her own. But worsening everyone else’s ideas? That’s where her particular brand of nastiness lies. Her handler needs to watch out less she sends Desk attacking without even realizing it. It’s her handler that’s her weakness, really. She has a bit of a blind spot towards humanoids, which is useful when she’d being a particular prat and riling up the other Whers. She’ll readily gobble up drugged meat before she even realizes something is off. Alas, it’s her only downfall and don’t expect her to be too pleased when she wakes up.

"Why not, my lord? If then they chanc’d to slack ye, we could control them. If you will come to me, for now I spy a danger, I entreat you to bring but five and twenty; to no more will I give place or notice."

Speech: Italic #7C32A0

Forgotten Answers Albino, Rosencrask
No one ever said Watch-Whers were smart, but no one ever said that were this stupid either. That’s just the short end of the stick that this Albino got, a malformed brain rather than a malformed body. He operates on a baser set of instincts than most; it’s probably best to not even bother with training him. He’ll still try and eat the moment he feels hungry and sleep the second he feels tired. That can be rather problematic when he’s in the middle of doing whatever task he was put to, and even worse if you had the slip of judgement to put Rosencrask in charge of something that was actually important. Or is he Guildenstersk? Half the time, even he doesn’t know his own name and he rather often forgets that he has a handler (or what a handler is even). At least, his forgetfulness and stupidity can be somewhat endearing. That is, when he’s not forgetting than handlers don’t equal snacks. He’s adorably distractible at times, by sparkly objects or an unsuspecting shiny’s tail or simply if his egg twin happens to be around. When’s he’s like that, it’s hard to stay mad at him for piddling on the rug or nearly swallowing one of your Alunas whole. Oh and sometimes, like once in a blue moon sometimes, he’ll actually show some kind of flash of intelligence as if he’d even forgotten how simpleminded he is.

“I haven't forgotten – how I used to remember my own name – and yours, oh, yes! There were answers everywhere you looked. There was no question about it – people knew who I was and if they didn't they asked and I told them.”

Speech: Italic #E1E6DC

Afforded Alternatives Albino, Guildenstersk
Oh, the pitfalls of a limited vocabulary. This Albino feels them every day, because every day somebody is doing something stupid and needs a talking to. He doesn’t mean to be a nag, but who else is going to do it? In fact, he rather despises the fact he always has to be the leader. Just listen to the way he’s always grumbling something or other to himself before he rushes, figuratively, after whoever is deciding to be the biggest moron of the moment. It’s not his fault he’s surrounded by idiots. Yeah, if you haven’t figured it out yet, Guildenstersk is a lot smarter than your average Wher. It’s a little unnerving actually, the way he just sits and watches everyone just waiting for them to slip up. And yes, it’s safe to say he’s totally judging you. He’d help you out, though. If you would only listen to him, just once. Seriously, does no one speak in a series of hisses and growls and grumbles anymore? In order to escape the unfair hand he was dealt in regards to speech, he tends to stick around his handler’s dragon or whoever else may be a part of his handler’s household that may understand him and be able to translate. He doesn’t want any bond of his looking like a fool the same way he’ll sneak off occasionally to make sure his egg twin isn’t looking like one either. Don’t worry, he’s never gone too long. He knows just what you can accidentally get into without him.

"We can't afford anything quite so arbitrary. Nor did we come all this way for a christening. All that – preceded us. But we are comparatively fortunate; we might have been left to sift the whole field of human nomenclature, like two blind men looting a bazaar for their own portraits... At least we are presented with alternatives."

Speech: Italic #B9CEBA

hatched: 8/8
bonded: 7/8
1/1 Gold
Dominatrisk -- Geoffrey
1/1 Obsidian
Moorsk -- Saiph
0/1 Emerald
Nursk -- WILD
2/2 Sapphire
Zsk -- Zaerias
Orsinsk -- Meliai
1/1 Amethyst
Desk -- Ria
2/2 Albino
Rosencrask -- Tracyn
Guildenstersk -- Da'chetre

Had Geoffrey known better, he wouldn't have needed to bring an escort; he never went anywhere alone anymore, drum request to the contrary or not; but in this case, had he gone alone he would've found one of his specimens was already there. The drums, however, were not quite that explicit about their details.

Geoffrey didn't know that though, because when he heard the drums, all he heard was "Watch-whers" and "Jungle" and that was all he needed to know before he was putting down his pencil and going to get a change of clothes to get something a little more worn in. Naturally, as he was doing so, he checked in with T'Rae, who as usual had taken up residence upstairs. Unsurprisingly, he was a little more excitable about the prospect than she was, which probably contributed to her willingness to accompany him, but generally Geoffrey just assumed she was going to accompany him anyway. Still, it made sense to check first.

Down in the basement, Geoffrey scratched at his face as he debated between his two weapons. No, he didn't anticipate needing to bludgeon a Wher, or a Whazzitian, or anyone else, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Ultimately, he took the more reasonable pickax. He liked the heft and the force of the horsemen's pick, but it really was a very impractical weapon to be lugging around when he didn't even know if it would get any use.

Once prepared, he went out on the lawn to see who would be around at night for a little journey. Bask was the first to come scurrying over for a nose rub, and while he was surprised to see the Ruby out of one of her hidey-holes for once, he wasn't about to turn away a good grown Wher as his protection for the night. He wouldn't ride her, like he would some of his other specimens, but she definitely qualified as a good bodyguard, and a quick one.

But remember how we said if Geoffrey had known better, he wouldn't have needed to bring her along in the first place?

As he traveled, Geoffrey came more uneasy. This was the right direction, between the drums and the way Bask kept sniffling the air and darting ahead to check before coming back, but that was what was worrying him. It was a sinking sense of dread bringing his stomach down below his lead feet. They hadn't even arrived before he had taken T'Rae's hand without saying a word and squeezed it tightly, both to anchor himself and to indicate he very much did not want her to back out just because Geoffrey knew this house better than anyone else alive.

So you came, did you?

A black shape emerged in front of them, coming up from walking around the eggs without a single lick of attention for Gask, his restless eyes looking out for someone else entirely. No more running away, damn you, Rystiel >[

Geoffrey met the look from Zchet steadily. "Just... leave us alone," he warned, to which the Black snorted quietly before going back to his own business. He had merely wanted to confirm with his own eyes so that he knew for a fact who was around and who wasn't. He may not be officially in charge around here, but that didn't mean he was going to stop him from taking charge if he needed to. Lord knew Rystiel sure wasn't entirely recovered from being a wreck, not that he could entirely blame his brother either.

Once Zchet had turned his back on them, Geoffrey eased up on his tension a little bit and let out a slow breath. As if they hadn't been a tense pair to begin with, things had not exactly improved between Unicorn and cyborg since the incident over Gatsby.

He glanced at T'Rae, for once his face almost apologetic, though he mostly tried to stay blank and calm. It was a silent question of whether she wanted to stay. He was aware it wasn't the most comfortable surroundings for her, although he also wasn't going to leave himself. For one thing, he already given a command to Bask, and the Ruby had stationed herself in front of the house door to see that no unwelcome visitors tried to trespass the halls. For another...

Well, weird though it might be to some people, the Watch-wher eggs and the shadow of Gask actually did quite a lot to lift his spirits and soothe him, even if his tight grin was accompanied by a fearful tightening of his heartstrings at the sight of the strange Steel mutant. It wasn't Gask he feared though; heavens no. He feared a much worse ghost.

The Requiae, blame the Requiae, that was why he felt like this whole affair was such an ugly one.

To start with, though, with or without T'Rae depending on how she felt comfortable, Geoffrey approached around the eggs slowly. His first order of business was saying hello, because really, Gask was precious little freak of nature, yes he was, Gatsby just never appreciated him did he no poor Gaskyface. "You've been a busy boy, haven't you?" Geoffrey called to him. Recognize his voice, Gask? Recognize Geoffrey?

[ Out of My Mind - Fear | 875 words ]

T'Rae liked whers, they were loyal and reliable beasts even if they weren't real bright and had a tendency to be over aggressive, or over protective she hadn't entirely narrowed it down yet. Gruosk she was pretty sure was mostly just aggressive, T'Rask showed more signs of being possessive, overall they were still one of the more interesting species to study overall. So upon hearing the drums it shouldn’t be a surprise that she was already getting dressed when Geoffrey came to check on her, confirmation enough that she would be going with him. Going about collecting her bag while he went after his weapon, suddenly rather disappointed that she had left her machete at home for the night, though perhaps in the long run it would prove to be ultimately for the better.

For the time being she was merely being amused by Geoffrey's eagerness while he was locating an escort of a slightly less humanoid variety. She did make sure to offer a hand out for Bask to identify her, though for the most part Geoffrey's whers were already aware enough of her presence to leave her be. It never did hurt to remind them and make sure they remembered her, she knew well enough that with some of Geoffrey's household that it never hurt to be a little more on her toes.

The walk was another matter. It started slow, unnoticeable, little things she had never seen before striking a note of recognition in the back of her mind. Eventually it became things that she really had no right to recognize, and from that point it wasn't hard to guess why she recognized places that she had never been, it was even easier to narrow down places Geoffrey had been that she had never seen. His own growing tension did nothing to help the situation. When the house came into view her fear was confirmed, though her attempt to simply ignore the fact didn't last entirely too long.

Slowly the emotions that she had long since locked away began to bubble up through her gut, anger was the first to break through, but only because the anger had never entirely faded. It opened the way for other emotions that she thought she had thoroughly sealed away though. Bitterness, jealousy, frustration, among others that threatened to break through the locks she had used to seal them away where she didn't have to deal with them, where they should have stayed. With a deep breath she squeezed Geoffrey's hand, bracing herself, not quite enough to face the Black that she already disagreed with though. The only thing that did stop her emotional gut reaction was the inexplicable mix of wildflowers and desert air that kept her mouth shut until the Black departed.

Still, the Vulcan had stopped a good distance from the house. A distance that could, under different circumstances or perhaps even just a different location, been a property line. Even through the vaguely apologetic look she couldn't convince herself to move forward any farther. She neither wanted to be here nor had any right, and frankly she wasn't certain she would ever have been allowed, there was no reason to start now. Faintly she squeezed his hand before letting go, crossing her arms defensively over herself. No matter how much she liked whers it wasn't enough to convince her farther in. "I'll…wait here." She reassured him quietly, watching him go.

When he was gone however she sat down quietly in the grass and watched as the Shifter materialized beside her. Offer them peace, then you will have peace. The Shadowguard quoted quietly, looking towards the house and the retreating cyborg.

T'Rae spread her hands flat over her knees and closed her eyes, taking another deep breath to center herself, "Do no harm to those who harm you." And frankly she didn't trust herself here, too many sleepless nights and sickening emotions, she didn't trust her mind not to get the better of her.

Nobility lies in action not in name. He whispered, laying down beside her, the faintest of yellow shades beginning to work into the pastel shades of blue and green across his coat, keen blue eyes looking up to her as he laid his head down on his paws, having placed himself between her and the house.

It got a faint snort out of her, "And I cannot return to life what I kill, but I can at least respect it." She insisted, though they both knew immediately that he didn't believe that at all. T'Rae was going to insist on it though, and it was quickly obvious that she was going to offer nothing in its place, much to his disappointment. The Shadowguard fell silent, shifting through long lessons and discussions about his namesake, and even further through his intimate knowledge of his Bonded's nightmares, before he said anything more.

There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear.

That struck far closer to the truth. Never intrude unwelcome into the lives of the dead. She wasn't even comfortable being this close but she wouldn't leave Geoffrey here alone either.

[Out of my Mind - Fear - 859 Words]

There was only one word needed to get Chet roused from his napping spot. Whers. He remembered the first bonding of this sort that he’d attended, drawing his own blood alongside Khryssie, making an unexpected ally out of Chetsk. That little Albino was one of his most loyal companions, and Chet had nothing bad to say about Whers. In fact, he rather adored them.

He had another, though the Sapphire was rarely seen. Chet hadn’t intended to take any of his shinies along with him on this bonding—he knew how these hatchlings could be—but he found himself being stalked by Skelesk. The little Sapphire was dark and hard to see in this lack of light, but Chet knew he was there. He was often the only one who did, in fact, as the warrior tracked him. Why Skelesk was coming, he didn’t know, but he’d long since learned to stop trying to guess when the Wher would show up.

He travelled quickly through the forest, towards the edge where a house he’d never been to lay. It seemed abandoned as he came up upon it, but that wasn’t what drew his eye. Instead he noticed T’Rae, sitting in the grass. He found himself curious of her presence here and not in the house. He slowed in his gait as he neared her, coming to a full stop when he was close enough to talk normally and still be heard well.

“What doing out here?” She wasn’t the sort to hold back from what he’d seen of her. She took up challenges as well as he could admire from an outsider, and he didn’t think she was scared of Whers like some others he had seen in the past. He tilted his head at her in curiosity. There had been no intention on his part to stop out here on the property line, but he knew the hatchlings would wait a little while longer.

He knew Skelesk was moving closer to the house, but the Sapphire did not stray far, keeping the Horansi in his line of sight.

It was often noted that Chet was often shadowed by Tracyn in bondings, and today was another event that rung true to the statistics of the weyr. The ocelot had been roused from her night time sleep by the beating of the drums, and she arrived at the house not that long after her fellow mandalorian. Slowing to a half the ocelot sniffed at the air, her tail swaying lazily through the air as she stood beside Chet and T'rae outside of the building. She knew in time that she would have to go inside, but she wasn't going in to the building until Chet did - the last time she'd entered a run down house bad things had happened. So it was only natural for her to want her love protecting her back.

Especially when Whers where involved. Tracysk was nice enough, but she understood well enough that some whers where horribly vicious.

"Perhaps she's waiting on intel from people already inside?" Tracyn mused thoughtfully, her ears swinging forward as if listening for any screams from inside the building. Thus far there where none, but she was sure that it wouldn't be long before they did, especially if Gask was involved. She'd only heard a few things about the Wher, but she knew enough to know that the Wher wasn't the friendliest of beasts. Tracyn also secretly wondered if maybe T'rae was too afraid to go inside, but she wasn't about to insult the vulcan's bravery like that - I mean, hello, Gask ... nasty hunk of Wher inside a building.

After all, wasn't she herself waiting on Chet to go into the building? Who was she to ask if someone was afraid or not when she herself felt uncertain about going into an abandoned home filled with unknown horrors?

In an eerie unison, unsettling croaks escaped the crooked, cruel beaks of the trio of Requiae, announcing that the first Whazzitians of the night drew near. They shuffled along their perch, craning their necks to get a closer look at the misfortunate. Each set of eyes, goat, maroon, and icy blue, revealed a terrible hunger and it looked like someone had ordered them delivery.

If Geoffrey wanted ghosts, Dunharrow could give them to him. The Spectre flared his ghastly plumed wings and hunkered down, looking quite ready to dive. The Phantom of the group had a different agenda, though. Narkissos’ attention had shifted quickly to the Ruby Watch-Wher sitting down below in wait at the house’s door. It was his job to chase away the nasty hominids from his deceased bonded’s home, and he let out a warning squawk before... Well, before Azazel snapped his beak at the both of them, just missing a chance to rip out some of that narcissistic Phantom’s feathers. The Remnant was the largest of the three, after all, and he had been here first. When he glided off the roof and alighted on a tree above T’Rae, Da’chetre, and Tracyn, the other two followed suit regardless of what other ideas they might’ve had. There was a feast to be had over here anyways. Perhaps the stragglers would have been safer by the eggs.

Geoffrey would find himself spared from the three Requiae for now, being the only one actually near the clutch. As such, he was the only one to have Gask’s attention. However, there was a good chance the Steel would have been fixated on the cyborg even if he had been in company. Geoffrey was a rather familiar scented humanoid, familiar voice, even familiar heat signature. Gask had been opening and closing both sets of eyes just to make sure he wasn’t being fooled, because yes he remembered you Geoffrey. How could he forget someone who played with his toys without asking and then one day never gave them back?

Hffffssss-- Gask untangled himself from around the clutch, tearing the webbing away from a few of the eggs as he went and leaving them to rock slightly in the grass. He had a bone to pick with you Geoffrey, one that had slightly more precedence than guarding the eggs; it was clear in the way he scuttled closer to the cyborg. --Ssssssk? What did you have to say in your defense?

OOC| Obviously, this is not a full round seeing as no eggs have hatched or anything like that. I'm aiming towards Thursday for that, so please please please get your joining posts in as soon as possible. It's always more fun with more people!

Haaaask. The Ruby ended her statement with a flare of her nostrils. Whatever she thought of the Requiae, it apparently wasn't anything worth chasing down. Her porch perch now. She'd like to see you dislodge her once she'd made up her mind.

Geoffrey meanwhile had not paid any heed to the Requiae trio, disturbingly accustomed to them around both his house and around Gatsby in general. It was kind of a thing.

He held still where he had stopped as Gask moved, neither approaching closer nor pretending to feel threatened and backing away. Holding his ground seemed like the best idea. He glanced just for a second at the eggs, but his gaze tore away just as easily as the spider webbing did. The Steel was given a surprisingly somewhat sad look. Geoffrey was well aware Watch-Whers were not empathic, or at least none of his had ever shown any indication of being such. It didn't stop him from occasionally wishing they were.

Of all the things to make Geoffrey feel guilty out of the blue, it was a giant abomination of a Wher.

"I don't know where he is," Geoffrey informed Gask openly, as usual treating Whers like they understood perfect Common and could hold conversations in grammatically sound sentences. "I don't..." What else was there to say?

T'Rae stayed settled where she was in silence. She wouldn't settled into a proper meditation, not here and not tonight, but she could focus on keeping her own emotions about the night and location out of Geoffrey's reach, and she could wait here and be ready for when something went wrong, as she had no doubt that something would inevitably go wrong. The only real question was what would go wrong.

The first answer would come in the form of digitgrade feet moving through the grass, and somewhere beyond that the large shuffling of a beast that she assumed to be a wher, given everything else. There were only so many occupants in the weyrd that happened to walk like that, and she could hazard a guess that this one was, perhaps, a certain despicable Mandalorain. Of course he would follow the sound of whers, she wouldn't begrudge him that really, but while she would never defend Gatsby neither would she see Da'chetre disrespect the dead.

As the noise drew closer two sets of feet become and four, and all four of those feet came to a stop just over her shoulder. The shuffling beast still moved in the trees, but Da'chetre and Tracyn had at least stopped before invading the property. The woman she didn't think would know a whole lot about the situation, but the Horansi should, and further he should know better.

T'Rae didn't open her eyes to address them though. For a moment she didn't move or speak at all to acknowledge them, at least until Tracyn mentioned going inside. Oh sure Bask would stop them, she had no doubt about that, but she would rather not deal with Geoffrey should either of them make some kind of attempt like that, partially because it would involved getting far too close to the house itself to do so.

"I am waiting." It was true, she was just sitting here waiting for Geoffrey to be ready to go home, they didn't need to know that she was resisting the urge to burn the whole thing to the ground. "The eggs are to your left, in the garden." Opposite the way of the door and the Ruby guarding it, "If you insist on going forward I would personally request that neither of you make any attempt to enter the house." Sure, she was making that request out of concern for Geoffrey's emotional well-being, but she figured if she said that much then it would just encourage Da'chetre further. Not that she thought he would listen to her anyway, but perhaps Tracyn understood basic respect. She could hope.

The second answer would come in the form of a three Requiae circling overhead, of course beasts like that would seek to make trouble tonight. They would find little to feed of from T'Rae, the Vulcan showing no signs of allowing either disturbance to break her pseudo-meditation. Perhaps they made it harder to focus, but T'Rae would not allow them to break her tonight, things were already too fragile.

Chet was always glad to find himself shadowed by the woman he loved. As she came up behind him, putting in her thoughts on the matter, he turned his head just enough to grin down at her, the greeting implied. He could hear Skelesk moving back around, apparently having gotten a sufficient scope of the perimeter and the creatures around. The Mandalorian still wished he knew what the Sapphire was doing here—he didn’t need protecting, after all. Maybe he was just curious about the clutch?

If Chet had known T’Rae thought him despicable, he might have been perplexed, but his ignorance was a blissful one, one made of cultural blinders. If Mandalorians were offended, you knew. They were not subtle. Not like this Vulcan could be.

And it was very, very, very wise of her not to mention how going into the house would upset Geoffrey. Given that sort of information he would have pushed right past Bask—of fought past, more like—to get in there and see what there was to see. But with the simple information of where the clutch lay, he was keen on going there. He did wonder if she was waiting for Geoffrey, but a faint hint of the man on the air made him think perhaps he had already gone forward.

“Good,” was all he said to T’Rae, as good an agreement as she was going to get. He looked up at the tree where the Requiae had come to leer down at him, and he snarled and hissed. He did not like those birds one bit. His own Leon was a pain in the butt. Admittedly, he rather liked Fawn, but only because she encouraged him to being chaotic. It was definitely good she wasn’t here. While there was no fear in him to bolster, there certainly was plenty of chaos on his heart.

“Let’s go,” he muttered to Tracyn, even as his fur bristled at the birds. Paying no further attention to T’Rae, he set off to the left as he’d said he would, going for the garden with an agitated tick to his bent tail. The smell of Geoffrey got stronger as he approached the garden and he let his irritation morph to amusement. This could be fun.

That was when he saw Gask, and he growled softly to himself. He remembered seeing that monster, just once, at the bonfires. Wasn’t quite a Wher after that day, was he? The great creature seemed to be staring down Geoffrey, leaving the clutch more open than it might have been. The webs and the dead body of the apparent mother were actually a bit disturbing, or at least they should have been. The Mandalorian simply thought it interesting and wondered if it would mean the children would be like father.

On the far side of the clutch he saw the faintest movement of shadow that he knew had to be Skelesk. Keeping his own careful eye on Gask—respectful enough to not assume that the father wouldn’t be vigilant, even as he paid mind to Geoffrey—Da’chetre moved closer to the eggs, curious eyes on the shapes that seemed mis-matched in comparison to the last batch he had attended.

The evening had been a little gloomy and Meliai wondered if a storm was working it's way into the sky. Many of her shinies remained indoors on nights like this, but she hurried out into the wind to check once more on the ones that stayed elsewhere. The fisi and dragons would be fine, but her new pegasi was of particular concern. The Moonfire was skittish in many ways, but she seemed calmer near Mel's own cloudfrost. He probably reminded her someone of her brother. She reached into the shared stall, voice laced with honey and promises she knew she couldn't keep. As much as she wanted to say it would be all right, there was no way to guarantee it.

Lightening flashed and Deirdre's eyes rolled as she grunted in fear, though she did little more than stomp her feet. The spirited but good natured Samson moved closer to his new friend, lipping at an ear. They would go through tonight together.

With the next flash came an expected rumbling that Mel was only half listening too. It wasn't even the dryad that caught the drums words. Her shadowguard spoke up. She half jumped. It was hard to get used to the fact that he always stayed so close to her, even if he never said anything most of the time. Lurking in his shadow form he thought it best to keep an eye on her. As if she would suddenly disappear into a puff of smoke if he didn't. And then he would be left alone. Whers in the jungle. The sound of that certainly caught Meliai's attention, but her question of where never left her mind. Very deep. Be prepared for trouble. The platinum morphed into his physical form for now as Meliai rushed from the barn back out into the night, mind directing certain shinies to care for the ones most likely to be scared of lightening, or the ones most likely to get into trouble.

Back at the house she changed her garb into something more utilitarian. She had been looking forward to a quiet evening of tea, books and perhaps thunder, but that would have to wait. She strapped a small dagger to her thigh. She wasn't terribly skilled with it but it did make her feel a bit better. That and the babies would need blood. As soon as her bond had mentioned wher her mind flickered to the dead thing she had held in her arms not long ago. In almost the same moment she caught the eye of her newest flamma. Not the austere Umbra, but the sly Spina. Following her gaze Mel found herself looking at the hulking, sleeping form of the still v young wher. Oh no. No blood would be shed tonight. Not that she didn't believe the albino could hold his own. She didn't want any of her bonds hurt tonight. Someone else could too easily be caught in the rampage of either the Flamma or the wher. And while she didn't particularly care for the Spina much, she didn't want to see her come to harm because there was no one there to protect her.

So it was either bring a wher killing flamma along, or a grumpy, possibly violent wher. Mel settled on the latter, although she did not relish the thought of having to rouse the Albino. It only took a quick shake for the creature to spring into action and Meliai was forced to leap out of the way as Meliask took a swing at her. The blow made some contact, but it wasn't terrible. A bruise was quickly forming, but so had the wher realized something was up. The red eyes found Meliai's, glaring and unhappy, but willing to humor her for the moment.

“Come on Meliask. We have to go for a little walk.”

'Brrrrsk.' The hulking creature groaned in annoyance as Meliai walked away, but soon hauled himself to his feet and hunkered toward her. The spina, who had since wandered too close, was snapped at angrily and she scampered off somewhere else in the house.

Two forms headed out into the night, followed closely by a silent shadow.

~*~*~*~*~

Meliai arrived behind several of the others. But everyone seemed to be lingering and there was no clutch in sight. There was a somber tone here that she did not quite understand. Danger and gloom hung thick in the air, that much she recognized, but it was something else here. The pack on her back seemed to get heavier with each step, but she pushed on, Albino wher sniffing eagerly at the surrounding area. He clearly hadn't been out enough.

There was a slight nod to those present, but conversation was lacking and Meliai was eager to get to the clutch. The protective stance of the nearby Ruby told her that was not where she wanted to be right now and so she headed for the garden, a small whine growing in her bonds throat. Her hand moved immediately to her knife as she neared the overgrown space. Geoffrey and Gask were both clearly in her view now, but she held back. The mutated steel was frightening for more that one reason. Slowly and as quietly as she could manage the dryad knelt down. She slipped the pack from her shoulders and set it on the ground in front of her.

Meliask nosed his way in before Mel even got a chance to remove any of the contents. He snatched his own bit of meat, loathe to allow all of it to go to appeasing the steel. As the albino occupied himself with his prize, Mel watched and waited.

Hmm. Drums.

One of the lesser of strange sounds he'd been hearing since he woke up in this damned jungle. And he'd seen even stranger sights, which was difficult for a member of the Dark Court to say. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, he walked on completely wild jungle floor, listening to the drums intently. It was a message, and he was faintly surprised to hear it. He had not seen a single soul since arriving here, and how he had arrived here was another mystery entirely, let me tell you. The Fey paused and frowned at the message. What the f-ck was a Watch-Wher?

He had seen winged creatures, little furry ones- big hulking gryphons (which made him extremely wary, he will admit), and he even swore to have heard the distant roar of a dragon. But he didn't think anything he had seen would be this 'Watch-Wher' that the drums spoke of. And why would the owner of the drums send out a message about them? And where were these drums? He snorted and kept walking. If he stumbled upon whatever it was, then fine. So be it.

...And of course, he did.

He was in extremely dense jungle. He had to take his hands out of his pockets to help maneuver around. Then Zaerias's gaze landed upon a strange sight- an abandoned house, overridden with the wilderness, a few people of varying... visual appearances hanging about, heading into what seemed to be a garden (at one point), where there were many cobwebs, and three strange birds lurking in a tree. His eyes narrowed a little, and his ears flicked. What the hell?

The Dark Fey stepped closer, careful with his footing and even more carefully eyeing the others in the vicinity. He was mainly watchful of those three birds- something about them just screamed dark. A glance was thrown to where two feline-looking people had departed to, as well as a younger-looking girl, and then back to the two still hanging around the tree. He regarded them for a little while longer before snorting a little bit, in indifference, and then turned to follow the others in the garden.

He had thought about asking them, but decided not to. Just go where the general public was going, and he'd find out on his own. Besides- he didn't trust those birds for shit. Although that strange red-skinned beast was eyed warily as he passed. What the hell...

[ooc; Yes, throw the Fey into Watch-Wher madness right from the start :| Amazing plan, isn't it?]

Zeph too heard the distant beat of the drums, standing as he was on the front porch of his home watching the far-off storm. Deciphering to message the drumming contained took a few moments, but once he understood, the Soul Collector shifted uneasily. He had just recently prepared himself for a bonding like this, but he hadn't realized one would come so soon. Part of him wanted to ignore this particular summons and spend the night in solitude in his study, but the more adventurous side of him argued otherwise. He had the blood to bond with, and he doubted a Watch-Wher would be able to tear him apart easily.

You. Me. We go. Chaos and fun at bonding, yes? a voice hissed from underneath the porch, and Zeph mentally groaned. The shiny he least wanted to see at the moment seemed to have made the decision for him, judging by the smugness in his mind-voice.

"Good evening, Extani." the skeletal man replied guardedly, getting a hiss laugh in response as the Serpen lord clambered up the steps to lurk beside him.

Go get the blood. Leave the meat, we don't need it. Extani raised his snout in pride, adding, I can deal with any parents. Feeling that the Serpen's definition of dealing with an overprotective Watch-Wher including angering it for kicks, the Soul Collector slipped some meat into a bag and tucked the precious bottle containing his blood in an inner pocket of his robe.

Extani quickly swallowed a stolen portion of someone's dinner as Zeph returned to the front porch, and the two set off in the direction the drums had indicated.

- - -

Zeph felt a sense of unease settle over him as the approached the bonding location, and it just wasn't because of the dark atmosphere shrouding the house and the nearby property. He had no idea what to expect, and Extani's quiet cackling near his ankles wasn't helping. Unsurprisingly, the Soul Collector wasn't the first to arrive, so he took in those gathered as he picked his way towards the remains of a garden. He recognized all but one person, and it was to the stranger that his attention went first. Clearly a new arrival, judging by his confused expression. Zeph's Grim Reaper appearance probably wouldn't help matter, either.

"Welcome." he murmured softly towards Zaerias as he eased past the other man. Extani ignored him altogether, gaze fixed on the hulking form of the father and the eggs he protected. "Do nothing, Extani." Zeph warned, and the edge in his voice served to keep the Serpen in check for the moment.

Geoffrey, T'Rae, Da'chetre and Tracyn were all given simple nods of greeting, the Soul Collector uninterested in conversing with any of them. He wasn't particularly friendly with those four, even though they always seemed to meet each other at various bondings. But his attention was drawn towards the figure kneeling before the apparent overseer of this bonding, and he felt the tension in his bones go up another notch. Meliai.

Falling in behind her and stepping hard on Extani's back to force him to stay put, the Soul Collector followed the dryad's lead and carefully withdrew the chunk of meat he had brought along.

Why you bring that? Papa would rather chew on you instead, bone-man. the Niatu taunted, hissing in a mixture of delight and pain as Zeph pressed his foot down harder.

"Be quiet, please." he murmured in mild annoyance. If the father didn't want to take the meat from his hand - and it was probably a bad idea, given the temptation of Zeph's finger bones - the man was more than willing to place the food on the ground.

The Requiae were all a twitter as more and more people started to arrive, letting out loud and unsettling cries as they spread themselves out along the trees to keep watch over both the clutch and the path towards it. They were feeding off all the unease. Azazel, however, stayed roosted above T’Rae, not yet willing to leave the Vulcan to her own devices though everyone else had gathered closer to the eggs. The eggs that were currently being completely ignored by papa Wher.

Gask let out a low growl as he got closer to Geoffrey, stopping only inches from the cyborg’s face with his bloodied snout. Perhaps pretended to feel threatened would have been a better idea, as it seem pretty clear that the Steel was none to happy with the fact Geoffrey had stood his ground. And not aggressively stood his ground either. But, the Watch-Wher’s nostrils flared and his head swung in the direction of wherever that meaty smell was coming from.

Very suddenly, the mutated creature snapped Meliai and her Albino. Though, anyone who knew anything about Whers would know the gashing of his teeth and shrill SKREEEEEEL! was a warning that Meliask was getting far too close to the eggs. Bask and Skelesk had had the right idea in keeping far enough away from the Steel. In the same motion, he had grabbed at Geoffrey with one of his extra limbs. So when he was satisfied that if Meliask had any brains it would back off, Gask whipped back around not only to face the cyborg but to try and ensnare him in his foremost claws. Krrrfsk-- Were you afraid now, Geoffrey? Hmmmmmm?

In all of his quick movement, Gask had clipped the side of the clutch with his tail. With the webbing already ripped loose from parts of it, egg thirteen went tumbling through the grass towards the newcomer Fey and the servant of death. Zeph hadn’t needed to worry about Gask gnawing his fingers off-- the Wher liked his chew toys with the flesh on-- but, he might want to worry about that egg near his and Zaerias’ feet. Little cracks had formed in it as it had rolled away. By the time it came to a stop, a teensy critter was nosing its way out of the shell. Though it’s head was still egg wet, and its head was all that was freed, the Preposterously Pleased Sapphire was still pretty easy to make out as such. He was probably going to be a fairly bright shade of blue when his hide got all cleaned up.

His wasn't the only egg to be disturbed, though. With the force of their father's tail, egg four had been sent careening into the side of egg three. The way egg three just crumpled where it was hit and a sour smelling ooze leaked from the biggest cracks, it was obvious that whatever was inside of it hadn't made it. A nice split had shown up in the side of egg four, though. Hopefully because whatever was inside of it was hatching now. Would anyone dare to go see?

Bask growled higher-pitched than usual as Gask got closer and loomed over her cyborg. Said cyborg was showing no discomfort, however, simply standing there and glaring back sternly, which meant she had no permission to snap at the spidery Steel. She hunkered down a little in place, just maybe sulking a little bit. He better know what he was doing.

When Geoffrey finally reacted, it was not because of anything that was directly directed him. He flinched at the echoing warning to team Meliai, left hand rising up and clenching a little bit as he physically braced against the sound. Gask was big and had the voice to match. He didn't do anything to stop Gask threatening them, however. It was their due for getting on the bad side of a Watch-wher parental unit.

Of course, maybe the other reason him wasn't doing anything interfere was because Gask was interfering with him and he was currently closed by overgrown claws and leathery... toes? Fingers? Whichever it counted as when it was the front extremities. The point was, he wasn't feeling afraid, just facing Gask with an expression that looked more like he was feeling very disapproving, as if he had adopted the Steel and was a disappointed parental unit himself.

"Don't you skree at me," he shouted clearly at the Wher as a firm warning of his own. "I'm pissed too, but you can shut up and suck it up! He's gone! Now you can make sure nobody ruins anything or you can be a baby yourself and have a fit over me while they steal your babies right out from under your nose." Hmphgrump. He was perhaps on edge about the anxiety of being at Gatsby's house again and the reminders of anger and sadness. Perhaps. A bit.

Tracyn watched the vulcan as she explained that she was waiting, and well whom was she to do anything to encourage the woman from her spot - especially with those death birds now coming over here. She might well have three of her own, but that didn't mean that she LIKED being near the avians. As soon as Chet muttered 'lets go' the woman moved. She wasn't going to waste any time, especially when it sounded like things where getting violent.

Trotting along beside Chet she could pick up the scent of the other hopefuls, and of course the scent of Gask and the eggs. Moving quickly as she was the female mandalorian was the first one to reach where the eggs had been hidden, her eyes adjusting to the change in light as she glanced over to see that Geoffrey and Bask where busy with the father of the clutch. Good, Good, keep old man father occupied while the eggs hatched. It was a wonderful idea, but it hadn't helped the clutch any as a few eggs went tumbling from their webbed nest.

One broke open near Zeph's group revealing a sapphire, while the other two tumbled to another spot, and she could tell from the strong scent that one of them was already dead. The other, well it wasn't so sure what was going on with that one and she was at least going to check on it. Her pace quickened to a run as she approached the eggs, one eye watching Gask as she knew that getting too close was sure to draw his ire toward her - and she didn't want to tangle with him when the babies needed assistance.

Reaching egg four the woman glanced into the split that had developed in the egg, her body shifting closer so that she might get a better look. Any fear or uncertainty she had about being here faded from her body, now adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she felt like she could take on the world once more - of course right now the only thing that was a possible threat was the mutated Gask whom wasn't that far away at all.

Ignoring you, Requiae beasty, you could perch there and echo that hideous noise through her mind all you wanted, you wouldn't get any kind of response out of her. Not tonight, she wasn't going to make this any harder on Geoffrey, and she wasn't going to let you make this any harder on her. She was already well aware that she shouldn't be here, she quite agreed that she would rather not be, but she was also stubborn enough that she wasn't going to allow herself to be run off by these damn birds. Of course it didn't help that if he hung out there long enough, she'd end up with quite the headache, any prolonged contact with the things messed with her mind enough to throw her off balance, and Geoffrey's emotions just beyond her didn't really help either.

Of course, the more that showed up the more unease settled over her. No she hadn't really expected that Geoffrey and herself would be the only ones to show, but the growing crowd didn't help, and particularly faces that she didn't recognize. She was staying here, right here, and not moving.

At least until Geoffrey was being threatened, with her meditation already interrupted by the people and the Requiae, she was content to stay back here and watch the whole thing happen from back here, but when the mutated steel attacked she was on her feet in an instant. For all that she could do anything, she knew charging into a wher that didn't recognize her was a bad idea, and intruding on property that she was no doubt unwelcome wouldn't help either. A stranger invading his space and his territory, but she wasn't going to just see Geoffrey get hurt either.

With a low growl of frustration in the back of her throat the Vulcan took to pacing, a few steps in each direction but still never crossing that line. Surak watched her with an almost bored expression, some irrational behaviours could not be broken so easy, he knew, but that didn't make it any less disappointing to watch. Geoffrey was a grown man, Geoffrey could take care of himself, knowing that didn't do anything to sate her desire to lodge a blade in the Steel's body, but it was enough to keep her at bay yet.

Others arrived and as the garden grew more crowded she grew more nervous. The more people surrounding an angry wher and attempting to raid his nest, the more people there were to get injured. Zeph's was a face she was happy to see, but her attention belonged to the steel right now and a small nod and smile was all she would offer before turning away again.

Then suddenly the mutant wher was in her face. The screech filled her ears and suddenly her world narrowed to Gask and her own young bond. Her eyes flared into an emotion not commonly found on the dryad's face. Willing to die for her bonds and having proven it, the side of her that was fiercely protective flared to life. Her eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. If it had just been her tonight, fear would have been spurring her now fluttering heart, but Meliask was her bond and all of her bonds depended on her in one way or another. She would not fail them again.

A sudden, throaty roar sounded from her as she stepped in front of the albino wher, who had suddenly frozen. In a smooth motion not typical for her clumsy nature she grabbed her blade with her prosthetic hand and flung the chunk of meat she had in her other hand at the steel. The sweat beaded on her brow as her chest rose and fell with the rush of adrenaline. While she wasn't sure exactly what she would do, her eyes dared the steel to try that again.

Mahogany eyes tending toward flame, misty tendrils of some sort of spectral material clung to her slightly bloody fingertips. Something inside her buzzed with activity. It was like how she felt when she called forth creatures from the forest, but this time much stronger. Exploration of the powers she attained when she had crossed the fire in the fall had been limited to amusing her more than anything. There was something about this night, this place, that was tugging at undiscovered parts of her.

Her limbs felt a little cold and numb suddenly, and the first traces of fear entered her eyes.

Meliask looked from the steel to his bonded. Had he been older or had his bond been exhibiting perfectly normal behavior his reaction would have been violence in spite of his size. But the steel was intimidating and the feelings he gleaned from Meliai were confusing. Instead the albino retreated. He wasn't going quietly though. He grumbled and cried in his own wher way. Nearing T'Rae, he gave the vulcan a frustrated work and took out his anger on a nearby, overgrown hedge. His stout arms and arrow shaped head tore at the branches and shredded the leaves. Unable to voice exactly how put out he felt, another loud 'SSkkkrrrll!!' would have to do. When he was older and bigger he'd show all of them.

If Saiph felt any ticklings, any little harbingers of doom nibbling at the base of his brain or anywhere else, he didn't show it. After an entirely too large supper, he and Grimm had retired to the back veranda atop the Wher-complex for tea and storm watching. Still feeling a little overstuffed and languid, Saiph didn't mind the heat too much, blinking sleepily out at the flashing horizon and stroking Fusk's wingsails with a foot. The massive Wher made a hell of a giant dog at their feet, but neither of them really seemed to notice that anything was strange with the picture. Saiph let his other foot send the chair forward and back in a slow rhythm, rocking in the creaky old thing like it was the most normal thing in the world. Really, that wasn't that far off; why wouldn't they take the opportunity to enjoy the evening? Sure, it was a little warm and sticky, but Grimm wasn't exactly unused to that, and Saiph would have been entirely happy if it had been less humid.

When the drums -- sounding thunderous from their perch on the side of the mountain, at the point at which everything echoed -- started sounding, Saiph blinked from his lazy haze, glancing around curiously. Nobody had run out of the woodwork to drag him off, so maybe this once, they could sit still and not move -- << Whers, mine, Grimm. >> Veroneth murmured from behind them, where she was curled up in her wallow. Saiph squinted sidelong at his mate, then grinned, teeth flashing as he finally sat up straight. "Whers." He repeated with a happily contemplative hrrrm, wiping a bead of sweat away from his temple as he pulled one last drink from the mostly-water glass of iced tea he'd been partaking of. "Shall we?" He asked, knowing the answer already; neither of them could resist the big ugly brutes, anyways. Patting Fusk fondly on the back one last time, the lad stood, stretching mightily and wrinkling his nose, wishing for at least the tenth time in the hour that they hadn't eaten so damn much for dinner.

<< Be safe. >> The young dragon murmured, head tracking his movement as he marched past her and paused to plant a kiss on the Amethyst's snout. "We'll be fine, Ve. You and Fusk play nicely." He grinned, and she chuffed a little dragon giggle, chirping an invitation to the Wher to join her -- if he wasn't going to follow Grimm. For his part, Saiph ambled down from the veranda into the kitchen, bypassing the main room and heading back into the cold storage room the Familiars and Gryphons had finagled. He knew it was a place of magic, but he sure as hell didn't want to know how; just that it worked to keep the food in varying states of chill depending on how far from the door you went. Right next to the door, several buckets of blood porridge rested, waiting for the moment that Grrsk woke up from his naps and needed to be fed. The young Albino was progressing well, as far as his rank went; but Saiph worried about him. He was currently sleeping with Joanna, as far as the lad knew, which...wasn't exactly the sanest choice, but the girl thought that the little hellion was adorable. At any rate, Carinae would feed him if they were gone when he awoke, and he wasn't going to take all of the food.

A carefully-covered bucket in each hand, he closed the coldroom door behind him and made his way out of the castle, not pausing to change -- he knew he'd probably end up ruining his green button-up and slacks, but there were always more to replace them. At least his blood wouldn't noticably stain either, right? Alicja was waiting for he and Grimm out front, and briefly, the lad was surprised; the gentle, shy white mare wasn't exactly the most fond of Whers or, really, other people other than his family and a few of their friends. She said nothing when he quirked a brow at her, just blinked luminescent sea-shaded eyes and eyed the buckets with trembling distaste. "We can find another way, Ali --" He started, but she stamped one silver hoof and stared both of them down wide-eyed, resolve not entirely the most steady. I won't let you go alone. She murmured, sounding afraid and brave and very childlike as she briefly buried her face in Grimm's stomach, a respite from the scent of blood coming from the buckets. Let's go.

So they did. Saiph clambered on up with the buckets and Grimm, and the Unicorn fled the castle like a bat out of Hell -- her hooves barely touched the ground as she nimbly navigated the jungle. Had he been any less focused on neither of them falling off and not losing a lid and slopping blood down Alicja's hide, Saiph might have enjoyed the run, but as it were, he was sort of occupied. When they pulled up not long after, he slid down immediately, moving away to put the buckets in a shadowed niche not far from the clutch and, ignoring it briefly, moving back over to Ali to reassure her. Smiling tightly at Grimm, he spent a minute quietly scratching beneath the Unicorn's chin and trying to keep her calmer. It only took a moment, but the white eventually stopped trembling like a leaf and took a deep breath, nudging both of her boys away like errant toddlers. Look, one just hatched. She offered quietly, and Saiph swung around, all ready to coo at the little monster who'd appeared.

Of course, he noticed the fact that Geoffrey was being cuddled by Gask in a rather rough kind of fashion, but that wasn't horribly surprising. Geoffrey tended to have that effect on people, right? "What the --?" That was shot in the direction of T'Rae, as Ali wandered over in his kinswoman and the angry Meliask's direction and tried to look supportive. Well, there was at least the slight chance that there wasn't any damn thing that the cyborg had done to get roughcuddled by a six-legged Wher. The lad tried to give Grimm his best look of 'Don't Interfere That's Not A Good Plan', but wasn't entirely sure that it succeeded; and anyways, he was a big fat hypocrite since he whistled loudly at the Wher and grabbed a gob of blood porridge, waggling the second bucket in what he probably thought was a tempting fashion. "Hey, Gask!" Yes, he remembered the Wher, even if it hadn't actually struck him why they were here, other than the adorable pile of...spider-web-covered eggs, oh shit, where were the spiders?...as of yet. "I brought you some too!" He lobbed the handful of goop closer to the Steel and then plopped the bucket down, backing away a little.

Maybe that hadn't been the best of ideas. He probably should have thought that through more. Que sera, sera, though, right?

[I hereby release all mauling rights to you to do as you please with Saiph, by the by, and EEE WHERS ALL OF THEM YAY. 8D <3333]

It really seemed like Lucas was the only one in the Weyrd that despised Watch-Whers. Okay, maybe despise was a little bit harsh of a word. Pyrsk was nice enough, the fat Albino was friendly enough though his friendly sometimes became maulings-mistaken-for-hugs (really, Pyrsk was just a Wher, he didn’t know the damn difference). But really, Lucas’s second experience ever with a bonded shiny was Lusk, and man, the Obsidian was loyal but f-cking crazy. He had more than his fair share of scars from the shiny, and really living with nothing but a bunneh Aluna and an Obsidian Wher for your first few weeks in Whazzit was not fun. But really, this was all besides the point.

He couldn’t even pretend to ignore the drums because it was too late to be napping and too early to be sleeping. He was «What are you doing out here?» The Steel Dragon slithered out in the dark, wings flexed out gently as if to let out some of the heat. “I’m sitting.” Straight forward answers were the best ones sometimes. With his back against the wall of his apartment, the young man sat in the heat. Abirath tilted his head and brought it close to the humanoid’s face, his faceted eyes level to Lucas’ hazel ones, are as leveled as they could possibly be with the massive size difference. «Did you hear the drums?» “Do you even have to ask?” Lucas’ snotty answers always amused the Dragon. He could feel the man’s emotions rubbing against his own mind, reluctant as his bonded was to share, even now.

Abirath lifted his head back, as if to remind Lucas of his massive size. «You’re just gunna p-ssy out of it, then?» “F-ck you.” The draconic grin was met with a hand placed on his side as Lucas pushed himself onto his feet. “I’m just wondering if it’s worth it. «How many shinies has Lusk tried to eat again?» Lucas returned the toothy grin with a smirk. “You mean just counting Fuzz, or all of ‘em?” Lucas turned his back to the dragon and entered his apartment, clicking the button for the elevator to ride to the top floor of his penthouse home. For a while there was a bit of silence. Lucas had a big freezer where he kept chunks of meat, courtesy of, well a lot of shinies actually. He had a plentiful stash in case he ever got into a situation like this. He grabbed a chunk, he could defrost or freeze it at any time with his powers. Screw coolers,, all he needed was a bag to carry it in.

«Seconds thoughts?» Abirath’s voice was almost taunting as Lucas made his way back outside, surprisingly without a shiny companion and with a bag of frozen meat. The Steel was not intimidated by his glare. «P-ssy? Lucas turned his back on the Dragon, indicating that he was not invited. He did turn back to look at his dragon, though, and offer him a sort of smile. “F-ck off.”


It wasn’t that Lucas was a particularly dense fellow. There was just, no way of him knowing that Gask was Gatsby’s. The only thing he knew about the man was that he had been punched in the nose by him (Lucas still had no clue why) and that he was gone now. He didn’t even know the details, he didn’t need to know details. But that was all besides the point, because Lucas could make no associations here. He just didn’t know. So if approaching the group that was already tense because sixlegged Steel Wher omg was a terrible idea, and if Gask had any idea of who he was (because Lucas had no clue who Gask was), then well, he was screwed, wasn’t he?

There seemed to be plenty of meat going around, some people were just begging for the attention while others seemed to try to creep around the father quietly. He neither got near the eggs nor the father, just sort of stood at a distance, out in the open, and watched. He had meat as plan A, then his water as plan B, and well, no plan C really except run like hell (and that was probably a terrible plan). Maybe though, trouble wouldn’t come his way, and maybe he could go back home with all of his limbs intact. Laurie would be effing pissed if he lost an arm before coming home.

And honestly, he still had no idea what the f-ck he was doing there in the first place.

wakefulness, in my mind, 758 words

[Sorry he doesn't do much, I kept him limited because I didn't know if Gask would spring at him out of somehow mentally recognizing him as someone Gatsby despised or not. |D I also want to give you permission to maul Lucas if you’d like. I’d like for him to keep his limbs though, thanks. 8DDD]

It was an unusual thing for people to notice Anastashia slinking about at night with one of her companions. Usually she was out helping Lanvalkai scout out his next target, helping Slick lay some sort of explosive in a place it really wouldn’t be appreciated, helping Ludwig escort Vanessa as she went about trying to get herself some ‘lovins’ or simply out for a stroll to get some herself. The point was that she was skilled enough, and now knowledgeable enough that nobody saw her unless she wanted them to.

Unfortunately trying to train Anassk to be silent was turning out to be a bit of a hassle. He wasn’t catching on particularly quickly and he spent more time growling at her for some attention than paying any attention to what she was saying. It had all culminated earlier in the evening when she’d stepped in a pile of Wher excrement that was lying in the middle of her bedroom floor and had scared the poor thing senseless when she’d shot at him while he was in the middle of marking her brand new barstools as his property. It had worked and she had grinned. Unfortunately, while shooting at him with a .45 had scared him into taking housetraining seriously it hadn’t discouraged him from following her everywhere.

How she ended up relatively close to Gatsby’s house, and yes, she knew just whose house it was and who’s Wher it was the drums were beating about. She remembered more than one occasion where she’d seen poor Gats being chased around by a spider-legged Wher. While this didn’t scare her off, it did make her uneasy enough to keep her presence in the shadows as much as possible as she lurked around her fellow Whazzitians watching the scenes unfolding around her. She didn’t care too much about T’rae and why she was acting odd, or about Geoffrey’s little hissy fit with Gask. As far as she was concerned, the world would be a better place if he were eaten up as a Wher-snack; Go big daddy Gask! She was however just wary enough to nab Anassk from his spot shuffling about behind her up into her arms. He was just a baby after all. The Sapphire in question tried to wiggle out of his bond’s arms. He didn’t see what he’d been doing wrong; all he’d been doing was trying to distract her while she went about her adventures. Okay, so occasionally he’d been nipping at her ankles or jumping up to try and distract her by catching her hand in his mouth. He didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to keep following her, even if it did mean that he got her full attention for a bit. He chuffed at her and wiggled as if he were trying to get a bit closer, nibbling at her hair and biting her ear.

Things did however start to get interesting when she noticed Mel and a strange man she hadn’t met; oh and Lucas. She did like Lucas. She stepped out from her hiding place and slunk up behind him, shifting Anassk so that she could stroke the back of his neck with a finger or two. “Hey there stranger.” She winked and motioned for him to follow her. Don’t worry Lucas, Tash will protect you from the big bad Whers. She sidled up to Zar, earning a sharp growl and another nip on the chin for trying to talk to somebody else other than him from Anassk. “You look confused.” The blueish purple Wherlet snarled unhappily and tried to wriggle out of his bonds arms to nip this new man, and maybe the other one. She was his! His only! She had no business doing anything other than entertaining him. Huurrrfff He bit down on her arm, gleeful as he noticed her wince and perfectly happy when she pinched the rough skin on the back of his neck. Yep, all his.


((Don't know where this came from. Buuuut Tash needs allthewhers. Feel free to maul her though, she thinks bloodshed is fun.))

"Sweet mercy, it is hot!" Ria exclaimed, while choruses of Hot! So hot! answered her. Lounging outside and complaining about the heat was an old family tradition of Ria's, and it was one that her shinies had enthusiastically adopted. They lapped up bowls of ice water and lay sprawled like flat slabs across the simmering porch, their idle chatter full of long, restful pauses until Jina or Kalsi or Lika prompted another round of It's hot! It's so hot!

Ria sighed heavily and set down the book she'd been thumbing through, deciding that she'd rather have both hands free to wield her slick lacquered fan and a glass of freshly brewed iced tea simultaneously. She raced against the melting ice cubes and dumped the remaining chips of ice down the front of her shirt before she leaned her head back against her chair and fanned her face to the sounds of thunder. No, not thunder. Drums. Drums and Whers. Pleased by her ability to recognize the rhythm and the prospect of attending a proper hatching of Watch-Whers, Ria peeled herself free from her wicker chair and wandered inside to a still hot kitchen with hardly a grumble.

The porch-bound shinies watched her step back outside with a bag slung over her shoulder; a few thumped their tails and politely offered to accompany her to the nest. Ria just as politely declined and they laid their heads back on the damp wood, grateful not to have to move. Ria would bring no company tonight. She would walk there herself instead of saddling up one of her two fine newly-acquired Cloudfrosts to carry her there. Ria wanted there to be nothing and nobody around for the clutch's dam to disapprove of when she approached the nest and selected an egg. She'd put the egg in the heavily padded canvas messenger bag that she'd stitched herself and return home to place the egg in a basket filled with bags of rice that she'd warm in batches until the egg finally hatched.

Yes, she'd been reading up on traditional Watch-Wher bondings, and she was still foolish enough to believe that things would be so simple here.

It was only when she arrived at a creaky old house that Ria worried that things would not be going so smoothly. Where was the Wher's handler, and why was he allowing Requiae to hassle those in attendance? Did he not want people to feel welcome to pay for the chance to approach the clutch? Ria eyed the group of people gathered in the garden and began to chew on the inside of her cheek, hoping that this was a line of hopeful awaiting their chance and not a group of bystanders witnessing some horrible tragedy. She approached quietly and warily.

Well, if she'd been wishing she'd brought her fan before, she no longer needed it. A cold trickle of fear drove a needle into her spine and Ria's eyes widened as she peered around Da'chetre and then promptly turned her back on the clutch. Nope. Nopenopenope. That Wher was a spider. Spiderwher. Spiderwher, guys. Oh hell no. Between the dead Wher and the webs and the extra limbs she was not approaching that nest. She was not going to speak softly to that freak and wait for him to acknowledge that she could claim an egg from that sticky web sac mess. She was not going to stick around and fight off Gask when the Steel lost his freak mind and started mauling people--he looked close to tearing Geoffrey apart already, and Ria wasn't even glad to see it.

She was just going to NOPE the hell out of here.

She was...she was just going to take an egg. Just one. That's what she had been promised. Not Requiae, not mutants, and not praying that that thing didn't have paralytic toxic flesh-eating venom. There were so many others around, and Ria had spoken not one word to any of them. She'd barely even stared at Alicja. She was trying not to draw undue attention towards herself: she would slip in and slip out and be unnoticed. She didn't want any trouble. Some of those other people, they wanted trouble...

Mentally talking herself up and forcing her trembling down, Ria turned herself around slowly just in time to see Meliai hurl something at Gask, followed by a second volley from Saiph. Now. While the Steel was preoccupied with holding onto Geoffrey and snarling at Meliai and Saiph and hopefully not focused on a slim young woman tiptoeing her way through the crowd, Ria made her move. She was very quick. She tried not to think of the consequences of a fumble as she reached for the nearest egg and attempted to slip it into her bag.

If the Steel didn't notice, she'd just continue to back away hastily and retreat to the shadows to check on her egg. If the Steel did notice, she'd turn and run for all she was worth and hope he'd lose interest in favor of protecting the rest of his clutch...

((Well! Feel free to have her attempt fail, of course. I'd like for her limbs to remain attached but I'm less attached to her sanity...everyone needs a good scare every now and then. ;D))

A too large dinner, plus the heat and laziness of the evening had Grimm in a rather peaceful, sleepy state. There was a storm brewing, but outside, in a comfortable chair, and Fusk lounged at his and Saiph's feet, well. Grimm was hardly paying attention to anything that might be considered worrying or doom. No, instead, the doctor had all but drifted off, head back against the rocking chair as he slept and snored just lightly. The heat wasn't a bother, and there was no thunder to speak of, so, why not? Of course, Grimm couldn't be too surprised that naptime turned into something else. The drums, well, Grimm didn't really hear them, but he did hear the dragon's mindvoice, and yeah. Try sleeping through that.

Awake, if barely, Grimm rubbed a hand over his face and pushed his hair out of his face. "We gotta 'nough whers." The doctor grumbled, even as Saiph got up. Staying here and sleeping was far more interesting, but nooo. Whers meant blood and injuries, and he couldn't very well call himself a doctor and not show up to fix everyone up after the horrible maulings that were sure to happen. "Just once, I'd like to sleep through the night." Yes, the doctor was going to keep bitching. Just ignore him.

Saiph had been gone for probably five minutes before Grimm decided maybe he should move. And while the invitation from Ve was tempting, Fusk was on his handler's heels as Grimm fetched his medic bag and met Saiph and Ali out front. And "oof." Grimm suddenly found his stomach being buried against, and he really couldn't do much else but chuckle and pet the mare's neck. "It'll be fine, darlin'. We won't let anythin' bad happen to ya." But they had a ride, and Fusk was following behind, and well, it didn't take too long to get where they needed to be. Sure, it meant going onto Gatsby's land...something that made him uneasy, even if more often than not, Grimm had been more fond of Gatsby than Geoffrey. But it just didn't feel right, trespassing here when he knew he wouldn't have actually been welcomed.

Sliding off of Ali, Grimm just frowned at the scene. Geoffrey was being snuggled by that damn mutant, a baby had already hatched, one looked dead, and people were grabbing for eggs. "This is gonna turn into a bloodbath." Grimm grumbled, a glance shooting to the White Unicorn. "You doin' okay, sweetie?" If just the blood porridge made the mare uncomfortable, it was doubtlessly about to get a lot worse.

And also, Grimm didn't want to know if Gask had made that web, or if it was another giant spider.

The doctor might have face palmed as Saiph pretty much just put a neon sign over their heads by throwing food at Gask, but you know, maybe he'd pay attention to the people stealing his eggs. Right now, Grimm was merely content to stand back, shove his hands in his pockets, and try to figure out just what he should be doing here. Besides trying not to lose his fingers. Yeah.