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[focusedvoid]

Reid lightly trends through ruins of old civ buildings, delicate steps on fallen ceiling tile that look stable between patches of grasses poking up. The family's banned her from going back to the mountain, so as long as they don't see her trying to sneak that way, she's mostly allowed to go do what she wants, even if that want is raiding by herself. She's got experience, and this town is fairly safe, with the most unstable of buildings that haven't fallen in already marked with bright symbols of warning.

It's confusing, what the windstorms don't always reach. But helpful! Her pack is full of lightbulbs, scavenged straight from the highest floors and the deepest basements. Might as well grab some in advance while the community generator's capacity keeps improving.

A party will look for her if she's not back by nightfall, which is distant, according to the hazy smear of light almost straight above. Maybe she should keep going? She's feeling antsy, though. Her parents are out working, which means her little bugs were alone half the day. It's fine, she shut the door, but she left at morning, and she always gets nervous after the time Trill snuck out and nearly got eaten by a cat.

They haven't tried again that she knows of. But she still worries.

She decides to end by rifling through a school. Most of the obvious got stripped to being useless, but there are a few flash drives tucked deep inside a teacher's desk. She'll need to barter for something to read them next time travellers come through.

She checks the pack hidden under her shawl. Yeah, she's got two dozen of the things. More than enough.

Just before ducking through the doors--barely on their hinges--Reid takes a moment to glance through the cracked window, just in case.

[capitalcurator]

Somewhere in the vast, dusty expanse, a band of treasure hunters roves.

"We're not a band," says Spelk. "Relic Seekers don't make bands. Or rove."

Pennon shoots her a glare. "History can allow for poeticism!"

"I'm not going for poetry, Pennon, I'm going for the work. You! Lemm! Tell us what you heard about this kingdom, again."

Relic Seekers do not come together often, but the gossip and the safety of group travel draws a few to convene now and then; even the most reclusive is no stranger to this. There is even a fourth member, a strange type who offered little but an eerie laugh at being asked their name and speaks in archaicisms. Relic Seeking takes all types; no one takes issue.

Lemm tags along at the back, peering up at the dizzy heights of the scenery around them, taking advantage of the temporary extra pairs of eyes to pay proper attention to his surroundings instead of scurrying furtively from shadow to shadow. They're exposed, and he doesn't like it much. Bugs don't linger in places like this. The strange, squareish monuments scraping the sky around them are eerily artificial. There's nothing in a place like this, except for maybe birds. Threatening enough, rare as they are.

Aware eyes are on him, Lemm stops habitually scanning the sky and clears his throat. "My last stop, someone said all the wealth of the wilds finds its way to that city." He does not sound impressed. "Exaggeration if you ask me."

There is a dip in the ground nearby that they've been following, infinite and dark and flat. It keeps them going in the same direction.

The nameless one's head snaps to one side like it often does, and they stare off into the distance across the expanse. Spelk thinks they see things that aren't there.

Pennon tuts. "Such pessimism."

"Do you believe every rumour you hear?" Lemm sharply accuses. Tall as he is, Pennon is quite a bit younger - and not worldly enough for Lemm's liking. He has little patience for it. "I suppose you think this place is cursed, do you?"

"There's merit to it! You've seen what they can do with soul!"

"You," Lemm snaps, perhaps a little harshly, "are an idiot."

Spelk nudges the fourth of their party and snickers.

Across the street from Reid, a group of bugs hug the wall by an emptied storefront and bicker. Despite the distance, they are far from invisible.

[focusedvoid]

Mouse, she assumes first, and almost looks away, but wait a minute. She slides her glasses up her nose, eyes narrowed. Not one smallish thing, but multiple small things.

There's enough mess covering what used to be sidewalk the little things are stuck walking on the road. Bugs? That catches her interest. Her lunchbox is readily available, empty of most but sandwiches already wrapped cleanly. She'll remember to grab actual jars one day.

Reid liked bugs before she got her bugs, the ones that absolutely have magic around them, and now she does even more. Plus, Kee in particular seems to be fascinated watching the un-magic beetles crawl on glass, sometimes bravely trying to stand on their backs to go wherever they feel like running to. These ones are obviously pretty big, for bugs. Good enough to take a minute and try!

Already invested, she adjusts her gloves and creeps around the doorframe, ducking between broken doors. They're already somewhat ahead, so she should be out of easy sight.

Her walking is quiet by necessary habit, even down a set of steps. Don't look don't look don't look--

[capitalcurator]

The argument hits a delightful zenith, at least by Spelk's judgement.

"Days I've had this! Are you so rude to those you know?"

"I'm pragmatic."

"You're-?" Pennon draws close, lowering his head. Perhaps it's by accident that the spokes of his horns feel aimed. Lemm's temper flares regardless. "Oh, it wasn't a pleasure to meet you at all! You have it out for bugs like me!"

(Spelk is enjoying this. But when the nameless bug backs away into the shade of an alley, she is quick to notice, look up, and follow suit.)

"I don't care about you," Lemm grinds out, truthfully. "I've just no use for contrived poetry and you haven't a clue about fact checking -"

Furious, Pennon is about to lunge. He notices, however, that a strange, dark shadow has just cast itself nearby.

Both of them stop and peer up at the approaching shape in cold, flooding horror.

Pennon darts and vaults himself down into a crack between the weathered pavement slabs.

Lemm, the last to process, staggers back and then scrambles for the nearest wall. There are plants there, his instincts tell him that if he can just put the thorns between him and this predator then -

- his beard and horns snag on the outer layer and he twists, panicking, and tries to change direction, scrabbling at both. The others are gone. He looks, despite knowing, and to no surprise he catches Spelk disappearing into a crumbling alcove with an almost apologetic look. Almost.

Lemm keeps scrambling at the thorns caught in him, and prepares himself to struggle. He will ram his horn in this huge thing's throat if he has to. Relic Seeker Lemm is not about to die without a thoroughly unpleasant struggle.

[focusedvoid]

Reid's attention zeroes to the one she thought was bigger but is actually wearing a pack first. It's not a normal bug, it's one of--them! One that already has something, not making one in front of her eyes with things they picked up around the house!

No matter how much she's looked, she's only found one other, some kind of jumping thing that might've been wearing a ribbon. Might. Maybe. It was already nearly dead, wandering the edge of the wastes she skirted around, and it could've just gotten something stuck.

She still gave it a burial. It just feels like the right thing to do these days.

As good as she usually is at basic stealth, Reid was never the best at hunting. She's seen before she can do anything, and the space that one disappears down is too small unless she wedges her arm in, which she's almost desperate enough to do--but her head swivels. There's another one, right there and stuck.

Thorns aren't enough to protect him. She kneels on the asphalt and sticks her gloved fingers between the weeds, one hand trying to pinch his upper legs (arms) against his sides, using the other to untangle his--clothes? Is that clothes?

[capitalcurator]

Never mind that the rumours are apparently true. Lemm does not have time for that, he is panicking and exposed and there is some huge thing descending on him. He wrenches sideways to try and get deeper to avoid her hand, but only succeeds in snapping off a small sprig of drier thorns that had caught around his horn; the rest is scratching at his shell, and to his dismay his beard is just getting worse -

He finds himself firmly, helplessly locked into place. He tries to struggle, but it's a non-starter and he barely jostles her hand. His beard is picked at.

It registers that she is trying to pull him loose, but it's little comfort. Of course. It's what might come after she has him where she wants him that's the problem.

Still trying fruitlessly to wriggle free, it occurs to him this thing's other limb is conveniently close to his head while it's disentangling him. Reid gets a firm jab in the wrist for her trouble.

[focusedvoid]

Her wrist jerks up. "Ow! Hey, hey hey hey."

She glances over it quickly, making sure her skin hasn't actually been broken. It startled more than hurt. Even though it did hurt. Not poison, probably? That doesn't look like a stinger.

Better to be safe; Reid finagles the hand wrapping around him so her middle finger is blocking his face from jerking forward again while she works.

A look over her shoulder shows the others either ran while she wasn't looking or are still hiding. Hiding, she really hopes! That means they're still here.

The detangling process is taking too much time and attention! She's impatient with more bugs on the line and whips out a pocket knife, hacking at the weeds around her hand until she can lift this one and pick at him from the air at little more quickly.

[capitalcurator]

It makes noises! The reaction tells him his horn-jab had the intended effect, and feeling a glimmer of hope Lemm braces himself to do it again.

It's not to be. He is rearranged into an even less favourable hold and with a finger in his way he can barely see what's happening.

But he thinks he sees a claw - no, it was too shiny, is this thing using tools? He will unpack that later and he feels the jostling as she cuts at the thorns. He eventually comes free with a superficial scratch or two, his beard an absolute mess with more than a few twigs of thorns practically woven into the hairs. Not his finest look, and it'd be hard to move around them even if he got free.

Lemm has little concern for this as he feels the dizzying lurch of gravity and sees the ground falling away. He stops struggling a moment, wrestling with the idea of what a fall like that might do to him if he got himself dropped.

From this height, he also sees the tail end of Pennon's apparent break-for-it, the end of one of his horns disappearing into a dried out storm drain a short sprint from the crack he was hiding in. He can't see the other two. But he knew even when he first got stuck that there would be no point in calling out. Relic Seeking is a solitary business. Likely not a one of them would risk their own neck for someone they barely knew. It's hardly personal, even if the sudden sense of despair tries to tell him otherwise.

(Somewhere further down the alley, Spelk and the nameless bug hurriedly scale a trailing vine with the intent to disappear through a broken window. With the detached way the quiet one is watching the proceedings as they climb, perhaps it is a little personal.)

[focusedvoid]

The worst of the thorns get cleared out as comfortably as she can manage. Tweezers would be delicate enough for the rest, but...well, this one's probably got hands, right? A whole bag is wrapped around him, also with greenery sticking to it. Now that he's closer, it looks like there's hair, or a beard. "Okay. You can do the rest of that," she mutters, giving up. Maybe there's a comb somewhere inside that.

She pops the knife between her teeth for a free hand, pulling out her little lunchbox. It's a translucent green plastic, which means he'll be able to see out when she tips him in and pops it shut. More importantly, Reid will be able to see in! That'll be necessary if she manages to get any of the others.

With all the vigor and absurdity of the young, still with the blade in her mouth, she balances the lunchbox on her stomach and crab-walks instead of standing up. She makes it to where she saw one of them dive in a crack, hopeful she'll find it still there.

...Unfortunately, no.

Her eyes narrow, and she drops to sit on her butt, surveying the area again.

[capitalcurator]

'Comfortably' is a strong word. Lemm wriggles the whole time, more than a little distressed at the continued fussing and her other hand coming in so close. It's his own fault that it pulls, then, but he's not exactly working with a clear head.

He spills into the box with very little grace, head still spinning, and after it's closed he scrambles to a corner and braces himself in it. The floor is moving, and he isn't keen.

While Lemm catches his breath, he peers around and out through the plastic, coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently being kidnapped, not eaten (yet). And he double-takes.

The nameless one is standing on a windowsill, peering down at him. Before they retreat into the shadows, they wave.

Lemm seethes.

[focusedvoid]

Maybe Reid could've got another if she didn't have the box and the bug inside to send flying, but she's not going to risk that, obviously. The one with the huge pack is gone before she's on her feet.

She shoves the knife back in her pocket. "Damn it," she sighs. That building has a big warning symbol on all its sides. She's not going to get herself killed, no matter how much missing multiple makes her feel dead inside. That'll pass!

It does pass, immediately, when she holds the box between her hands to peer at the one she snagged. In the corner, probably terrified. "Sorry," she says, sincerely. The kindest thing would be to let this one out, clearly having some kind of...goal, unlike the little dark ones that seem to like sharing her home. But she wants to get a better look at him. And his bag. There's gotta be something interesting in there.

She tips it just enough to slide the wrapped-up sandwich kind of away from the bug--it's soft stuff, probably wouldn't cause too much damage, but still.

Then, she turns a 90-degree angle from where Lemm and the others were headed and starts moving. Fast. Power-walking, go!

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is shaken out of fuming when a face appears in view.

He is, somehow, even more rattled than he was. Now that he's stuck with nowhere to run, completely at the mercy of this giant that imprisoned him, and it is looking at him...

Those are lenses. Lemm stares, unmoving, and it begins to sink in properly as the initial adrenaline gives way to dread. Lenses, tools, he thinks that's fabric, and the noises that sound strangely syllabic and purposeful -

This is something intelligent. Cultured, even. What a terrifying realisation to have. He may still be eaten - but if not, then what could it possibly want with him?

Slingshotted abruptly into the throes of an existential crisis, Lemm stays pressed into the corner and keeps his eyes on the strange, motion-sickening high-up view of the moving world. He barely has any anxiety left over for how fast they're travelling.

...That isn't true, actually, turns out he has plenty of terror for that.

[focusedvoid]

She finds herself repeatedly glancing down, like he's about to fall out the bottom somehow. After crossing a few streets, she tucks the box under her arm, easier to hold without shoving the whole thing into her dense, dark pack. Maybe partly hiding under her only kind of dark shawl will make him feel a little better.

He'll get a partial view of quite a few windows and doors from the higher vantagepoint, and, eventually, a look through the shattered mess of a strip mall, where the pace slows significantly. The structure might be stable, but she's not gonna kick through debris of ceiling tiles and who-knows-what.

"I waaaaaant some lunch," Reid suddenly sing-songs somewhere around the edge of the town. "Been a long day, buuut if I open that, you might get loose, so! Guess I'm outta luck!" She produces a water bottle and takes a swig from that instead.

Her scooter's tucked between some of the stunted, twisted trees. She just needs a few minutes to pace up and down the stand to remember exactly which ones...

[focusedvoid]

It hasn't been that long a day, but Reid's got a nice bed, felt a few extra spikes of stress, and has a youth's capability to just go and then crash.

In other words, she falls asleep.

That means there's work to do.

Trill doesn't fully know what a dream is. They know it comes from sleep; they know they don't really sleep; they know it's dangerous, somehow, enough that the Light from their birth was distressed by it.

They haven't seen one, so they suppose their choice of guarding Reid and others from them is working.

Many surfaces in the house are made of wood, and most vertical ones have a few nails hammered in, put specifically for their own traversal. They use it to clamber down and trot over to the bed, climbing up that more easily by the blankets draped to the floor.

They're not alone in that. A handful of siblings were watching from cracks in cupboards and walls. Natural shyness of a new, extra-strange bug seeing them isn't as important as their responsibility.

...Though most of them do hunker down on Reid's opposite side. Trill, Kee, and Mouse are the exceptions, with the latter two staring at Lemm's terrarium more than anything else.

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is very quiet for a long time. Eventually he ventures out, still agitated and able to sit still no longer, angling for a walk (see: a slow pace around his jail cell). It's then he notices there are... others.

He stops in his tracks at the sight of the strange gathering around Reid, and his first thought is surely not more of them.

His second thought is about how two of them are already looking his way.

Bewildered as ever, Lemm just stands still, staring back. Maybe he should go back inside, but this is currently being weighed against his curiosity. For now... no sudden moves.

[focusedvoid]

Nearly straight-on, he's much easier to see this way.

Kee, who was seated, leaps to their feet and points--just about flailing--excitedly. Mouse leans away a little, and Trill glances over to see if he's doing anything exciting.

No, it's not about the new bug doing things, it's about his horns! Kee spins to their audience of two and points at him more, and then wildly to the top of their own noggin. Their own horns stick out to the sides of their face, but their favorite sibling has two out of three horns that look like his! Look! Look at that!

[capitalcurator]

Lemm recoils in horror at the overexcited display. Are they trying to get his attention? What could possibly be so interesting about seeing a stranger walk out of -

As the recognition drops, completely by accident Lemm's hand trails up to touch at his own horns with markedly less exuberance.

Same hat. He doesn't have time for this. Lemm turns away and pretends he didn't see any of them. See, he's minding his business and going for a walk. (And looking out for the best place to climb. But that's still 'minding his business', isn't it.)

[focusedvoid]

That's okay, they were doing it for their siblings' benefit, not his.

--Where is Rose, anyway? They turn to ask Trill with another upper-horn gesture.

There are other terrariums, roughly arranged in a rectangle and blocked off from each other by slats of wood or draped cloth. The majority are empty. They have a good amount of space behind them, where it's warm, but and dark and familiar, from those first days where they all waited and watched between nights.

Rose commandeered one of those spaces for hiding, or sulking, filling it with scraps of fabric and sticks to make a crooked kind of tent. Trill indicates as much, pointing somewhat to Lemm's left, and making a motion that's come to mean "hiding."

Kee nods once and streaks down the side of the bed.

Understanding their excitement but somewhat annoyed at their shirking, Trill marches over to the edge to watch over them.

Kee clambers up to the tabletop about where Lemm is, but only swerves by for a single look before vanishing around the back.

[capitalcurator]

He's vaguely aware that something might be afoot from the animated gesturing he catches out of the corner of his eye, and then the sight of the similarly-horned one passing nearby.

But he can't let himself worry about whatever these strange bugs are doing, not when it seems like his captor is asleep. He doesn't think that first little two-horned one will try to stop him from leaving, and whether this extends to the rest of them will simply have to be seen. He can't stay any longer, he's going to get himself in dire trouble.

At least sitting quietly for a while has done something for his shaking hands, even if his nerves are still frayed. There's a longish branch resting at a diagonal against a rock; Lemm sets to work lifting it and walking it upright, hand over hand, until it sits against a corner.

Lemm tries not to look anywhere else but where he's putting his limbs as he climbs. He doesn't need to know about spectators, it'll put him off.

[focusedvoid]

Trill follows his ascent with interest, and a twist of trepidation. He'll be fine if he falls. They've fallen all the way from the top many times. They still have a few smudges of dirt on them from just a little while ago, in fact.

The sulking of their hidden sibling is mostly over with. Rose long since found distraction slowly picking bark away from a gnarled twig and sorting the bits into piles, which is suddenly disrupted when Kee bursts through the cloth flap.

"Look bug!" they sign, grabbing them and obnoxiously yanking them up.

If anyone else tried getting them to move, they'd just hit them with a stick and go back into renewed sulking. They're each other's favorites, however, in a way most siblings don't reach, even though they're all important to the rest. Rose forgives Kee and allows themselves to be toted along.

Kee doesn't care what Lemm's up to by the time they emerge from the back, so long as he and his horns are visible. See! Look! Look at those!

[capitalcurator]

Lemm is very visible, if they look to the top of the terrarium.

He has dumped his bag on the dirt floor and managed to climb to the top of the stick, but it's not quite long enough - so Lemm is precariously braced against the plastic wall and reaching up as far as he can to try and wedge his pry-bar under the edge of the mesh. It's not exactly a great angle to be doing this.

The mesh covering is only the first of several problems, but one thing at a time. If he can manage to bend it or unhook it, that's one thing down.

Lemm's foot almost slips off the narrow twig. This would be so much easier even just with two, but unfortunately he was brought here alone thank you fellow Relic Seekers he hopes you're all having a terrible day wherever you are.

...He is definitely being spectated. Lemm speaks without looking and continues working.

"I told the little one I wasn't staying. You'll leave me be if you know what's good for you. That or make yourself useful."

[focusedvoid]

Kee and Rose both freeze.

Thoughts on horns are pushed aside as his words hit like blows--not the subject, but simply words. The same realization Trill had, that he talks, that they understand it.

Kee draws away from the terrarium until they're peeking at him from around the corner. Rose, not having understood the excitement in the first place, stands by them defensively.

Trill gestures Mouse into keeping lookout and makes their way over. They don't like watching his risky climb alone. That he shouldn't get hurt won't settle the tightness in their chest.

Once they're up, the siblings exchange an uneasy look. Already, Trill's forgotten that none of the others know about the speech, and so they ignore it as they climb the rest of the way to peer down through the mesh from the outside.

[capitalcurator]

He's a little too fixed on what he's doing to pay much attention, but he notices the two back off. Good! Maybe they understand enough to stay out of his way.

The pry bar he has isn't really meant for a job this big, especially not from such a low angle, but he's making it work. The mesh is heavy, but it's budging...

...Lemm overbalances and catches himself against the wall, and the shock makes the stick he's standing on nudge a little to the left. The mesh clacks back down against the plastic.

Once he's sure his perch won't slide out from under him, Lemm gives a quiet, frustrated groan and thunks his horn lightly against the plastic wall, glaring out at nothing.

[focusedvoid]

They step carefully across the mesh from the corner they climbed up from. It wouldn't do to fall in as soon as they arrived, after all.

Once nearby, Trill plucks the edge of the mesh for sound, and then sticks their head through one of the gaps above his. Greetings, Lemm.

...They hope he won't be foolish enough to take a swing at them from such a dicey position.

[capitalcurator]

His head snaps up to look at them, and his eyes immediately narrow.

"Come to watch, have you?"

He almost does try to talk with the pry bar again, but he catches himself and swaps which hand is bracing him steady against the plastic. He flicks dismissively at them with an empty hand instead. At least he still remembers the last time.

"Out of the way. Can't work with you standing on that." Yes, there will be a round two.