The Armadillo instinctively takes a step back, but lowers their journal slightly upon connecting the dots. They give what you assume is supposed to be a weak smile in gratitude, though they still seem very distracted and opt not to step forwards to their original spot.
“Oh, um, yes. Yes, that’s me. Right.” They seem to have nearly forgotten about the name charm. “The… Axolotl? Oh, yes, The Axolotl! Is she alright? I’ve been— well trying— what?” They frustratedly swat away a small flame that had just sprouted on their sleeve and tug the notebook further out of harm’s way. “What is she— um, what does she think is happening? Did you find a way— any way to get to, uh, The Manta Ray?”
The Poison Dart Frog extended her arm to try to assist putting out the flame on the Armadillo's sleeve. Her wings flapped again to try to chase away the magic streaks once again. "Hi, yeah. For the sake of, I'm the Poison Dart Frog. She's okay, I helped her with a burning table. Er, wait, it was completely under control, I realize how that sounds when I say it out loud."
The Frog rubbed her forehead through her mask. "Listen, we *saw* something. When I was putting out the fire - with my magic - we saw shapes, through the glow. We saw something... *watching* us. The Axolotl told me to find you, that you might know how to explain it. It'd make more sense to show you than to tell you."
Fortunately for her, one of the lights turned into a spark that had landed on the edge of her dress. For a split moment, she had the instinct to panic. But she quickly ripped off the lit piece of fabric and held it up. She winced, aware the dress wasn't necessarily hers to rip, but she doubted her grandmother would hold it against her.
The Frog's lamps started to glow orange as she tried to keep the material from burning the rest of material fabric too quickly. She squinted through the glow then promptly realized she probably seemed reckless to the Armadillo. "Uh, you'll have to trust me," she said, slithering to stand next to the Armadillo. "Just try your best to look through the magic glow, then you'll see what we mean."
The Armadillo unsubtly shifts out of your reach and immediately busies themself with straightening their cuff in a weak attempt at playing it off. They glance around warily as you continue, and you get the idea that the only reason they haven’t abandoned this conversation is because of your supposed connection to The Axolotl.
“Right. I’m, um, I’m sure.” They don’t look very sure about anything you’re saying, especially not when they’re scanning the crowd for the lyte you were just with. They do straighten at the mention of seeing “something,” though, and they only watch you with some of their previous caution as they wait for an explanation.
The alarmed expression that flashes across The Armadillo’s face at the burning material is clear as day despite the mask, and they quickly reach out to grab it against your instruction. Their own lamps flicker orange, and the flame dies in their hand. “What are— look, the— I appreciate the demonstration, but we’re inside— in a…” They trail off as their gaze fixes on a few invisible points around the room, presumably catching onto your point.
“Oh. Oh, of course.” They flick through the pages of their journal until they land on one with minimal notes, scribbling a new addition in incomprehensible cursive. Their lamps flicker a brighter orange, and they scan the surrounding floor before locking onto a green light flitting across the remains of an intricately carved chair. They swiftly follow it, sketching in the remaining space on the page as they go and apparently completely forgetting about your conversation as they fail to elaborate.
Clenching her hooves around the new empty space in her hands, The Poison Dart Frog shot the Armadillo a look. "Alright, then," she muttered through gritted teeth. For half a moment, she tried to convince herself she didn't even want to figure out the mysteries of this masquerade ball gone wrong. But her need for an answer outweighed her impatience right now.
"Glad I could be of assistance to your research," The Poison Dart Frog shot sarcastically. "Do you mind filling me in?" She slithered close behind, tilting her head in a curious attempt to read their research's scrawl over their shoulder. "What did you see there?" she asked, pointing at the green streak of light, "What's in your notebook? Do you have any idea what's going on here??" As she spoke her wings began flaring involuntarily. She was desperate for some kind of explanation! Some promise that this was a problem that could be solved. That it wouldn't spread outside the reaches of The Dragon's property. "*What* is watching us?" she asked desperately.
The Armadillo snaps to attention and actually turns to face you for once, stepping back a bit as they do so. Confusion turns to apprehension, and their lamps flicker from Burn-orange down to their natural glow as they awkwardly shrink backwards in response to the questions.
“Oh, um, right. Sorry. I’m, uh, used to— nevermind.” Their fingers drum against their journal as they weigh their options. “I guess if The Axolotl sent you, it’s, uh— okay. But can you, um, put out any fires next time? We’re in— the ballroom is made of wood. You, uh, do know how to perform magic without keeping a fire going indoors, right?”
“Anyways. Questions. Yes.” Their tone shifts slightly as they run through what they could offer as answers, like reciting a presentation. “I saw the same kind of entity you did, I presume. It’s— it’s, uh. You know the other anomalies that arrive around October? This is, um, like that. Probably. Not just during October anymore, obviously. That’s new.” Their sentences come out stilted, and they do a very bad job of trying to sound like they aren’t still choosing the vaguest words they can think of.
“I’m trying— um, writing— taking notes. On what I can see. Well, not see, not until a few minutes ago, anyway. I’m just getting a visual record while I can.” They tap their pen against the page for emphasis. “I haven’t seen anything like it before myself. It does align with the— with some research that I’ve been doing in Zima. Which, uh, means it’s likely that they aren’t just here. Which isn’t ideal,” they tack on unnecessarily. “But you found— um, what you showed me— it’s a lead. On where they are, I mean.” Abruptly deciding to take a break from the unhelpful explanations, they pause and scribble a new note in their journal. “Say, do you know any Flow magic?”
Astrolytes
2 years, 3 months ago Edited 1:12 pm
The Armadillo instinctively takes a step back, but lowers their journal slightly upon connecting the dots. They give what you assume is supposed to be a weak smile in gratitude, though they still seem very distracted and opt not to step forwards to their original spot.
“Oh, um, yes. Yes, that’s me. Right.” They seem to have nearly forgotten about the name charm. “The… Axolotl? Oh, yes, The Axolotl! Is she alright? I’ve been— well trying— what?” They frustratedly swat away a small flame that had just sprouted on their sleeve and tug the notebook further out of harm’s way. “What is she— um, what does she think is happening? Did you find a way— any way to get to, uh, The Manta Ray?”
2 years, 3 months ago
The Poison Dart Frog extended her arm to try to assist putting out the flame on the Armadillo's sleeve. Her wings flapped again to try to chase away the magic streaks once again. "Hi, yeah. For the sake of, I'm the Poison Dart Frog. She's okay, I helped her with a burning table. Er, wait, it was completely under control, I realize how that sounds when I say it out loud."
The Frog rubbed her forehead through her mask. "Listen, we *saw* something. When I was putting out the fire - with my magic - we saw shapes, through the glow. We saw something... *watching* us. The Axolotl told me to find you, that you might know how to explain it. It'd make more sense to show you than to tell you."
Fortunately for her, one of the lights turned into a spark that had landed on the edge of her dress. For a split moment, she had the instinct to panic. But she quickly ripped off the lit piece of fabric and held it up. She winced, aware the dress wasn't necessarily hers to rip, but she doubted her grandmother would hold it against her.
The Frog's lamps started to glow orange as she tried to keep the material from burning the rest of material fabric too quickly. She squinted through the glow then promptly realized she probably seemed reckless to the Armadillo. "Uh, you'll have to trust me," she said, slithering to stand next to the Armadillo. "Just try your best to look through the magic glow, then you'll see what we mean."
2 years, 3 months ago
The Armadillo unsubtly shifts out of your reach and immediately busies themself with straightening their cuff in a weak attempt at playing it off. They glance around warily as you continue, and you get the idea that the only reason they haven’t abandoned this conversation is because of your supposed connection to The Axolotl.
“Right. I’m, um, I’m sure.” They don’t look very sure about anything you’re saying, especially not when they’re scanning the crowd for the lyte you were just with. They do straighten at the mention of seeing “something,” though, and they only watch you with some of their previous caution as they wait for an explanation.
The alarmed expression that flashes across The Armadillo’s face at the burning material is clear as day despite the mask, and they quickly reach out to grab it against your instruction. Their own lamps flicker orange, and the flame dies in their hand. “What are— look, the— I appreciate the demonstration, but we’re inside— in a…” They trail off as their gaze fixes on a few invisible points around the room, presumably catching onto your point.
“Oh. Oh, of course.” They flick through the pages of their journal until they land on one with minimal notes, scribbling a new addition in incomprehensible cursive. Their lamps flicker a brighter orange, and they scan the surrounding floor before locking onto a green light flitting across the remains of an intricately carved chair. They swiftly follow it, sketching in the remaining space on the page as they go and apparently completely forgetting about your conversation as they fail to elaborate.
2 years, 3 months ago
Clenching her hooves around the new empty space in her hands, The Poison Dart Frog shot the Armadillo a look. "Alright, then," she muttered through gritted teeth. For half a moment, she tried to convince herself she didn't even want to figure out the mysteries of this masquerade ball gone wrong. But her need for an answer outweighed her impatience right now.
"Glad I could be of assistance to your research," The Poison Dart Frog shot sarcastically. "Do you mind filling me in?" She slithered close behind, tilting her head in a curious attempt to read their research's scrawl over their shoulder. "What did you see there?" she asked, pointing at the green streak of light, "What's in your notebook? Do you have any idea what's going on here??" As she spoke her wings began flaring involuntarily. She was desperate for some kind of explanation! Some promise that this was a problem that could be solved. That it wouldn't spread outside the reaches of The Dragon's property. "*What* is watching us?" she asked desperately.
2 years, 3 months ago
The Armadillo snaps to attention and actually turns to face you for once, stepping back a bit as they do so. Confusion turns to apprehension, and their lamps flicker from Burn-orange down to their natural glow as they awkwardly shrink backwards in response to the questions.
“Oh, um, right. Sorry. I’m, uh, used to— nevermind.” Their fingers drum against their journal as they weigh their options. “I guess if The Axolotl sent you, it’s, uh— okay. But can you, um, put out any fires next time? We’re in— the ballroom is made of wood. You, uh, do know how to perform magic without keeping a fire going indoors, right?”
“Anyways. Questions. Yes.” Their tone shifts slightly as they run through what they could offer as answers, like reciting a presentation. “I saw the same kind of entity you did, I presume. It’s— it’s, uh. You know the other anomalies that arrive around October? This is, um, like that. Probably. Not just during October anymore, obviously. That’s new.” Their sentences come out stilted, and they do a very bad job of trying to sound like they aren’t still choosing the vaguest words they can think of.
“I’m trying— um, writing— taking notes. On what I can see. Well, not see, not until a few minutes ago, anyway. I’m just getting a visual record while I can.” They tap their pen against the page for emphasis. “I haven’t seen anything like it before myself. It does align with the— with some research that I’ve been doing in Zima. Which, uh, means it’s likely that they aren’t just here. Which isn’t ideal,” they tack on unnecessarily. “But you found— um, what you showed me— it’s a lead. On where they are, I mean.” Abruptly deciding to take a break from the unhelpful explanations, they pause and scribble a new note in their journal. “Say, do you know any Flow magic?”
2 years, 3 months ago