Planet Zar: Nexus

⦿ Stealing from Kjaran was a simple enough feat when one knew how to appeal to his desires, and the tug of betrayal that Joroch might have felt was lessened by Kjaran's desire to perceived as nothing more than a rabid beast.

⦿ "There's spies in the woods," Joroch whispered, sibilant and soft. "Trolls, from the smell of them."

⦿ Kjaran gnashed his teeth, bristling with blood lust.

⦿ Joroch cocked his head. "Too much for me to handle, but I don't wish to disturb our lady death." Which wasn't necessarily true. Joroch had come along way from his infancy, where he was small enough to drape around Rhakunara's neck. He was larger than Kjaran, but still bound to crawl on his belly through the dirt.

⦿ Kjaran spread his wings and snarled, taking to the air and lilting out the aviary exit with a bray of animalistic noises. Joroch watched, expressionless, until Kjaran's wretched shrieks faded to distant whispers. It was quick work to dig through the rotten mess of his brother's nest until he spotted the glimmering obsidian charm he was looking for, tucked between rotten gristle and broken shards of armor. --

⦿ Joroch approaches Rhakunara and asks her for permission to return to the Twisted Fate. He rarely travels anywhere without her unless ordered to do so by Zhicius or Cassimir. Rhakunara adores his company, and Joroch has never denied her affections. She offers him safety where he knows Kjarror and Kjaran would gladly break him to pieces for the inexcusable sin of being low ranked.

⦿ Rhakunara: Cassimir tells me the other gods are preparing defenses against us and he plans on heading toward Vacillate soon. I'll be terribly bored without your keen mind to entertain me.

⦿ Lharoth-mai, always one step behind Rhakunara, her constant guardian, shoots Joroch a look of incredulity. Joroch is careful not to respond to it. He knows Lharoth is in love with Rhakunara but her loyalties might not expand beyond the lady death. Joroch hasn't seen fit to inform her that Rhakunara sees him only as a pet, her affection for him no different than a child's affection for their favorite toy. Although, Joroch makes himself useful enough to avoid being discarded.

⦿ Joroch: I don't believe my visit will take more than a few days, Rhakunara'cza.

⦿ Joroch reveals the three obisidian charms he's procured, placing them at Rhakunara's feet.

⦿ Joroch: I'd like to receive rune-branding to protect myself in the upcoming battles. And, perhaps, consider attending a clutch to bring you more servants, my lady.

⦿ Rhakunara brightens at this. Already bound to Zhicius who refuses to stand at another clutch despite her openness to multi-bonding, her ability to acquire more dragonkin to serve her has been limited. Foxfire's recent visit to Syl'Neriss reignited a flame Rhakunara had squashed to dormancy. That haughty show-off Tuzik has made himself a nuisance vying for Rhakunara's attention.

⦿ Bringing home a bond to serve the lady would only further secure Joroch's position as favorite pet.

⦿ Rhakunara: You can't go alone!

⦿ Joroch: I would be honored for your company, my lady.

⦿ Rhakunara: Zhicius needs me. [She pulls a face at this, she has little interest in war.] Take Lharoth with you, she'll keep you safe.

⦿ Lharoth: My lady! [she splutters] Your safety is more important than Joroch's, surely-

⦿ Rhakunara: I'll be with Zhicius and the rest of the army. Joroch says it'll only be a few days. [She grips Lharoth's hand and squeezes, expression sultry. She also knows Lharoth is in love with her, Joroch notes, or at the very least is aware of her attraction.] Bring him home to me safe and sound. I trust you.

⦿ Lharoth resigns herself to the mission.

⦿ The Fate is much the same as Joroch remembers of it. Dark, twisting faux-natural caverns and a stink of danger around every corner. Lharoth finds the place distasteful but keeps her opinion to herself. She dislikes the cramped corridors and strange runes swathed across doorways. Joroch understands the rules here: No guests. He's led by a Custodian toward the rune-branding chamber, Lharoth steady at his side. They pass some of the meager recreation areas. Joroch takes note that there are several Chosen here, which bodes well for the appearance of a clutch. It's the usual mix of powerful, darkly-aligned individuals and a few sallow-faced people likely brought here by force.

⦿ Lharoth: Chipper place

⦿ Joroch: And dangerous. I barely survived my own hatching - others didn't - only to be purged into space to fend for myself.

⦿ Lharoth: And you want to come back here?

⦿ Joroch: I've been here since with her Ladyship. [He unfurled his tail to reveal three obsidian tokens] And this is the only place I can use these.

⦿ The Custodian permits them access to the lab and Joroch slithers in with a hesitant Lharoth. A mottled red-brown tycharis raises her head at them. "Tokens?"

⦿ Joroch lifts the three obsidian rectangles into one of her outstretched hands. She inspects them carefully and Joroch waits in patient silence until she creaks a second hand toward the posted listing of brands. Joroch doesn't need to look, he'd made his decision long before.

⦿ Joroch: Runeskin, immunity, shadowmind, silence.

⦿ The tycharis rumbles laughter. "Protecting yourself from something, little beast?"

⦿ Joroch smiles, as much as his toothy maw allows. "Always."

⦿ The Tycharis: The process is painful

⦿ Joroch: I'm aware

⦿ The Tycharis turns her gaze to Lharoth. "What's your purpose, here?" Her nostrils flare. "You're not Fate born."

⦿ "More protection," Lharoth replies with a shrug.

⦿ A dangerous response. It's close to admitting she's some sort of guest, here without a purpose the Fate would approve of.

⦿ Joroch: We were hoping to stand for a clutch if one is still seeking candidates.

⦿ The Tycharis: One is.

⦿ She drifts toward a data screen, waving her hand over runes until clutch-parents appear on the screen. Joroch recognizes the snake-like form of one of his siblings, blood-red and barely ranked above himself. The other parent appears to be an old world dragon, but sports brilliant rainbow wing membranes.

⦿ His nieces and nephews. Joroch's interest piques immediately.

⦿ Joroch: I'd like to stand.

⦿ The Tycharis laughs. "You?!"

⦿ Joroch keeps the frown from his face, the snarl tamped back. He is worth more than his rank, his mere survival is proof enough of that.

⦿ The Tycharis shrugs and says: "More food for the hungry hatchlings.Maybe the brands will help you."

⦿ Joroch: With any luck.

⦿ Days later, with a message sent to Rhakunara to approve the extended leave, Joroch slithers into the hatching chamber with anticipation burning bright as his four new runebrands. The skin around them still stings like poison, but it's a pittance to pay for their protection.

⦿ Lharoth is uneasy at his side, eyeing the mess of eggs quivering in the chamber.

⦿ Joroch: They're less beast than I am. The pernese blood might mellow out their killing instincts.

⦿ Lharoth crosses her arms, incredulous. Joroch feels the fizzle of her chill self activating defensively.

⦿ It's not long before the eggs begin to hatch. The offspring are abominations. Snake-like bodies with four infernal forelimbs, carrying hardly an ounce of their pernese heritage. Joroch spots a flash of split tail around a venomous Beast barb and tiny head nubs hidden around a crest of spikes. They're glorious little monstrosities.

⦿ They begin to pair off, sometimes multiple to a single bond. Most do so peacefully but a few fights break out, hatchlings snapping jaws at each other or pouncing on hapless candidates that prove too weak to be inciting. Joroch wraps close around Lharoth's feet, nervous. It's nothing akin to the bloodshed of his own hatching, but the memories it brings back are unpleasant.

⦿ Eventually, a coal-rainbow female makes her way toward Joroch, red eyes narrowed and head cocked. Joroch remains still, matching her gaze. His tail thrashes and he lifts his chin.

⦿ The female shrieks and pounces, jaw snapping. Joroch recoils.

⦿ Lharoth leaps in front of him, smashing the hatchling with a wing. She goes tumbling to the dirt but springs to her feet in seconds. Another joins her, a little smog-gold male, grinning with absolute joy. He springs just as the female opens her mouth and lets out a jet of fire. It's a weak flame, sputtering, and incapable of harming Joroch even without the runebrands. But Lharoth takes her job seriously. She bats away the male and flings a hand toward the fire, dousing it with a rush of summoned water.

⦿ The hatchlings step back and circle Joroch and Lharoth both.

⦿ "Weak," the female spits, snapping at Joroch.

⦿ Joroch bristles, brandishing his stinger.

⦿ It's too late, though.

⦿ The female turns her gaze to Lharoth and her demeanor softens. She slinks, head low. "Lharoth-mai, you are strong. I'm Haenuth, and I am yours."

⦿ No, Joroch thinks. This was not what he wanted at all. He turns to the male, hoping-

⦿ "I'm Jokiras," says the smog, his gaze fixed on Lharoth. "I think we'll have a lot of fun together."

⦿ Lharoth meets Joroch's gaze with a look of bewilderment. "This wasn't the plan."

⦿ No... no it most certainly wasn't.