Welcome to Gaia! ::

Pax holds up a hand, and there's a reasonably-sized mug in its hand now. Whatever is inside smells sweet as sin and steams faintly in the chill of the empty hall. "Drink," it says, shoving the mug into Alois's free hand. "Apple cider and honey. It helps."

The second egg cracks, too, and a little creature hauls itself out of its shell by its grip on Rabbit's finger. It has delicate feathers sprouting off its arms, little human feet, and big bird eyes. "Squeep," it says. It is six inches tall and childlike in proportion, and it repeats: "Squeep."

Pax smiles at the baby thing.

In this delightful distraction, Lady slips in, taking up the last chair in the room.

"If we are all prepared to begin," says Pax, as a second tiny squeep-thing pulled itself up after its sibling. "Please take a seat."

The head pat was well received. Alois' response was not; A mistake? The scars on Shiloh's own arms burned for a breath of a second, but he didn't push the response. Thorne was there helping him, and Shiloh didn't have the words to tell him even if he wanted to. Instead, he turned to the eggs in Rabbit's lap again, intrigued when he heard the small cracking sounds.

Except well, he was somewhat horrified when he saw the tiny people feet.

"The absolute hell is that." he whispered to Rabbit, still baffled as to why Rabbit brought the damn things in the first place. Pax started to speak up again in a well warranted distraction. Shiloh's breath hitched nervously. Even if the Peaceful One had promised its friendship and its kindness, Shiloh still wasn't sure he wanted to take part in any of this ascending thing. He thought about Jamie back home, how he was probably sleeping or—or what if he woke up and saw he was missing again? Pax said they could go home again after this, but it didn't stop a cold sweat from breaking out on Shiloh's skin.

Already seated, he noticed Lady's appearance last second, eyes lighting up. To see she was alive and in one peace was a relief, and he tried to offer her a hello with the intent in his gaze.

He felt sick to his stomach. How Thorne could remain to poised and dignified was beyond him; one day out of Court and it was like all of Melany's teachings had slipped out of his hand. Either that, or he couldn't focus on them well enough with his re-released anxiety. He remained seated in his chair with vague unease.

There was no help, only a solemn, pseudo-congratulatory statement, a disturbed whisper, a glance, a smile, and his brother's struggle. And then there were the squeeps, such strange, wiggly creatures freeing themselves and taking seats on his knees as he tried to rid them of bits of egg. He loved them fiercely. He feared them. He wanted this whole bizarre gathering to be over so that he could get back home and introduce them to his cat. He didn't even consider that they might not be allowed to leave.

Rabbit hadn't moved, and he remained in his chair when Pax made its request for them to sit, bowed over tiny hands and feet, offering his fingers so his charges might occupy themselves and stay quiet and still. He didn't intentionally ignore Shiloh's questioning statement, he simply had no answer. The only one besides the deer and the birds who got snippets of his attention was Alois, and that was because he had been trained to watch his brother, to anticipate trouble. There was too much going on for him to assist at the moment, however, and what would he do if he could?

There was another squeep from one of the children, and he gently pushed their bodies together in a little ball and held them there, looking up at The Peaceful One in distracted agreement.

Alois listened, forced himself to focus, and found himself torn between the eerily delightful squeeping sound next to him and Pax’s much more serious topic of conversation. He gleaned the gist, he thought, and found it prudent to inquire about the side effects glossed over. „I haf’ a question,“ he started with more strength than before. He still, however, looked melted onto the chair.

„You say we are to leaf’ ze cycle of rebirs’. What cycle? And what does zat mean for us, as mortals? Or, are we not anymore?“ Which begged the further question - were they then patrons like their captors? Was he some kind of parallel to his Father now?

What sort of a strange setup is this, and how exactly is it so sacred? At face value it’s a teaching role, and we’re ushering along others in our dispensations. This is so out of the pale… And for how long was this planned?

With vision slowly clearing, he looked to his fellow tithes - to Thorne and Shiloh, to Hux, to Rabbit and his collection of distracting eggbeasts. It was upon Rabbit’s features that he lingered most, and the nonverbal question remained prominent in his gaze. What did the others think of this? How would they process such an order? Did they, too, find cause to buck at this imperative as was so natural to him?

He wished he had known this was coming, an evening full of important information about his future that he could have been writing down in an ideal world. The cycle of rebirth? He didn't even have the first clue he might need to get that to start making sense. More importantly, he was definitely not a mentor. A confidante, sure, but if he was forced to lead anyone by his example, they would end up directionless, murderous receptionists.

Rabbit had a million questions, but couldn't think of the first one to ask. Trust Alois to have fifty in a row.

He looked back at him once there was silence again, unsure and confused. If they were immortal...

His hands shook, fingers shiny with squeep spit. He was pretty sure he was going to be sick.

"None of you have ever been mortals," says Pax. "Mortals do not come back over and over again for another attempt to break the cycle." It blinks, an oddly synchronous motion, at this line of questioning: as if it has never considered this.

Pax twists to look at Thorne next. "You cannot hurt your peers," says Pax. "To do so is to bring upon yourself your own death. Intra-clade violence is punishable by death, and enforced by the moonwalkers: when nobles war, all of us suffer."

It plucks at its skirt. "You may now take your own tithes, to grant them the power which has been granted to you. Your new talents will become clear over the next seven-day, whatever they are. Be cautious, and make no appointments." This advice doled out, it continues, "To take tithes, you require fetches."

Lady jerks up and backwards, bowling her chair over as Lace appears. Her fetch's body still looks dead and rotted, white frost on her face forming the overlay for which she is named. Beel appears beside Shiloh, and new unnamed fetches by the others.

"I'm not taking a tithe," says Lady loudly, defiantly. "Ever!"

"You don't have to," says Pax peacefully. "But your fetch is your will within the otherworld. Unless you choose to live here?"

Shiloh startles at Lady's outburst, but his reaction is all the same when a familiar hand touches his shoulder. It's Beel, face grim and concave, a rattled wheeze working itself out of their throat.

"Congratulations." They say, voice still faintly reminiscent of spite, but thankful for life. Shiloh has to resist the urge to punch the fetch in the face, the animosity carved on his features in a wolfish snarl.

"What cycle!" there's the outburst. Shiloh doesn't know anything about this never ending circle. How could he not be a mortal? How could he be anything but human? And what was this about the moonwalkers? Jamie— "How tied are Moonwalkers into this?" he asks, hungry for any sort of information on the matter. Beel tells him to be quiet in a slightly annoyed voice behind the boy. Shiloh ignores this, also rising from his chair.

Unchain the hound and it runs. Give fuel to the fire and it burns. Melany had torn him down to cinders, but now he blazed again. He stands with as much vigor as Lady, but much more poise; the chair does not fall, it screeches back with a small scream.

Pax is being polite, quiet and peaceful. Shiloh knows he shouldn't take the outburst out on it. His fists are curled, breath shaky as he tries to calm himself back down. He looks at Beel and their hollow sockets and sighs in an abstract sort of resignation, slumping back into the chair. He wants to run, but he won't. He can't. He—

Alois wishes to take his leave, and Shiloh shakes his head. Is this meeting over, then? He still wants to go home. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He only wants to be a Noble for the relief in protection from Melany but? This responsibility... could he actually make it into anything? Pax said it was their choice. He'd have to find out for himself. He lets his head collapse into his hands for a second, fingers rubbing circles against his skin. He isn't having a breakdown—he's just tired and his head is starting to throb.

"I don't want this either." Beel consoles Shiloh sardonically, patting his shoulder. Shiloh doesn't even react to this, face sliding up out of his hands. He looks more like a student who's teacher just announced a 50% final grade pop quiz than some eighteen year old who was just given the responsibility and weight of god-knows how many people. He groaned.

"Sorry..." he tries again, nursing his earlier explosion, "But what cycle." it isn't the first time he's heard about it, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but? "It's been brought up to me before. Have— Have we all been repeating it? Then... this is the first time that we've made this choice, right? If this excludes us from future repeats..." he's mostly blabbering to himself, exhausted. He shakes his head.

Is this the one that makes a difference then?

Rabbit found that staring at the squeepers, so soothing in their mindless curiosity, calmed him a great deal. He listened with a little more clarity for every minute that passed. Mortality, war, tithes, Michael Jackson, great. All of this was just great.

He floated past Lady's angry shout, Alois's request for hospitalization. He didn't even register the rest of the room until he felt something brush his shoulder. A dark presence had appeared by his side, shorter still than he was sitting down.

"Like smoke," the fetch whispered, its voice higher and sweeter than Mynn's had been. A blackened hand inched toward one of the bird-children, running a finger down its cheek. "My Lord Bennett should not be frightened. I will take care of him." It smiled, its cheerful, toothless maw a stark contrast to the menacing grin Alois was subjected to, but Rabbit felt threatened even so. He turned wide eyes to Pax, his question simpler and quieter than everyone else's.

"Talents? You mean, like, powers?" Beyond his scalp flowers, he didn't think he had any. Olivia was going to have him committed if he turned up with the ability to walk on water or spit fire.