station72 | (no subject)

CHARACTERS: Bellamy + Noctis, their gross offspring, and you.
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :048 - DAY :050
SUMMARY: accept a visual representation
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

( the hatchening | closed to bellamy and noctis )
[ At first, Bellamy thinks he's broken it somehow in the transition. Can you take this? There's something else I want to do, he'd asked after having come across Noctis in the hall. There's only so long anyone could hold an egg, and Bellamy finished in the library. He'd meant to pawn the egg on the first willing party he found, and go to the training wing. Instead, as he extends the egg towards Noctis, there's an audible crunching noise. Bellamy stalls, looking down to where both his hands and egg are poised over Noctis' outstretched hands. ]

Is it...leaking?

[ Something is dripping, slick over Bellamy's hands and splattering over Noctis' upturned palms. It's black. Bellamy's thoughts flicker to nightblood and Ontari, chest split open and Murphy and Abby's arms stained black to the elbow with her blood. It's a gruesome image, even if it only lingers for a split second before obvious worry over what's happened to the egg crowds it out of his head. ]

Was this supposed to hatch?

[ Surely someone would have been keeping track of when it was supposed to hatch. The idea that it's happened by chance is worrisome, though Bellamy's afraid to move in case he makes the situation worse, even if it's to go find Cathaway or Prince to try to foist the splintering egg off on them. His mind latches hard onto Noctis, fretfully wrenching his attention to the matter at hand as if Noctis isn't already attentive enough. ]
( the baby shower | ota )
[ They're stuck.

This becomes very obvious about five minutes in, after the initial panic has settles. For all intents and purposes, Bellamy and Noctis are holding hands. They have six little legs wrapped from wrist to wrist, with six tiny sets of claws to pinch each time they try to detach. To be fair, neither of them have tried very hard upon mutual agreement.

At least the dripping has stopped.

Feel free to bump into them and remark upon their snoozing appendage's charming visage. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I mean ...

[ No. No to all of that. He shakes his head. ]

Usually, if there's dripping, it means poison's involved--but you both look healthy. The little one looks healthy, too. I'm sure it's just clinging because it's imprinted on the two of you.

[ He leans forward, extending an experimental finger. ]

The real question is what it eats.

[Noctis blanches immediately at the word poison, though this showing lessens a bit when he hears that it's unlikely. Even so, he's not quite sure if he feels much better about imprinting.

That implies a strange responsibility of... parenthood. Of an attachment from a creature that he didn't ask for -- not completely unwanted, but certainly not something he was ever really prepared for. This isn't exactly the same as looking after a baby chocobo chick, after all.

Adra can pet the little ooze dragon if he likes. It won't do anything other than continue to sleep, and maybe flex its claws into Bellamy and Noctis' wrist a few times more.]

Do you know what dragons usually eat? [He's just so full of questions.]

Imprinted.

[ Maybe Bellamy should be worried about food. It's a fair thing to be concerned about. But the idea that the little ooze might like them is something that hadn't really occured to him. Bellamy's own attachment had been the thing to worry about, rightly observed by Lexa. The fact that their little friend might share that had somehow not presented itself. ]

Well, if that's the case we don't have to worry about it coming after my fingers.

[ Which were clearly in the line of sight. ]

Careful. That stains, [ He cautions, ignoring the prick of claws as Adra makes contact. ]

[ Adra touches the little thing carefully, ignoring Bellamy's warning. Indeed, the ooze stains his fingers--but he doesn't seem to mind. He sniffs it, inquisitively, and rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Hmm. Gooey. ]

Where I'm from? Raw meat, typically. Sometimes still screaming.

[Well.

That's reassuring.]

Still screaming.

[Noctis bites at the inside of his lip, looking down at the hatchling attached to him. Gooey and asleep. Would it grow so big as to consider them food, one day? Snapping a host up in its jaws, swallowing them whole? Surely Cathaway and Prince wouldn't have allowed such a beast to grow and flourish on the Station, where it would be a danger to them all?]

But not the ones it's imprinted on, right? [Right?]

[ The question is met with an initial, semi-hysterical flash of amusement. If nothing else, the pair of them might be safe. It's a worrisome prospect. ]

Wherever we go next, we might try to stock up on food for it.

[ Bellamy has zero idea of how to train pets, but he know the value of stockpiling provisions. ]

Raw meat's going to be hard to store.

[ Unless they slaughter their own as they go. Bellamy's expression tightens in distaste. ]

[ Adra shrugs, holding up his (ooze-stained) hands in a 'hey, now' sort of gesture. ]

I mean, I could be wrong. I'm only going off of my own experience. This little fella might only look like a dragon. Maybe he enjoys a nice fruit sorbet, who can say? I'd suggest you collect a variety of food and see where he goes with it.

[ As for the possibility of killing its 'parents' ... well, that he won't speak to. That, he just glosses right on past. ]

[He gets a feeling that little detail of murdering its 'parents' is being quietly sidestepped. And for once, Noctis will allow it -- the lift of his brow is prevalent on his features, nonetheless.]

So... I guess that means it's a trip to the kitchen for us.

[He gives Bellamy a sideways glance.]

Maybe hovering some food around its snout will wake it up, and it won't feel so attached to us anymore.

[It's a shot in the dark, but what's the harm in trying?]