Pollen's attention was on all the others- many loomed over her, and she sidled in a little closer to Obieth, seeking the comfort of the rigid guard.
She blinked hard as the light around her shimmered into a garden- a familiar one, and she felt the tenseness in her muscles relaxing away from her. She knew this place. It was the garden she'd met Zoey in, and a flower she'd enjoy, and Pollen reached for it curiously. Her hand shifted through the light- huh. Drawing it back, she glanced around to see what was happening before landing her gaze on Zoey.
Oh! Grinning, she raised her hand up high and waved, making herself very visible as though the larger being wasn't staring right to her. Quietly, she gestured to the patch questioningly- had she done this? It was beautiful!
Vargas's voice snapped her out of it. It was a long laundry list of things- but when Aethril was mentioned, and when heads turned, Pollen waved a little hand by her side. Yep! She was part of the entourage. Her hands tapped after that, and she kept by Obieth again, still just watching and waiting for any moment of her's. She could farm. She knew farming. There was a mental note that she made- teach people farming? She didn't know a lot, but she knew more than people who knew nothing.
Plus, imagine if he rewarded her, too!
But, he continued on, and Pollen grew impatient, rocking on her paws and deciding to watch the other people around her. First, Aethril, then Zoey, then a few others- why was everyone here taller than her? She wasn't sure if she liked it. It was like being a lamb in a den of lions- and when the image came to her mind (though in more cave appropriate themeing), she tapped her fingers together.
Hm.
Aethril's suggestion did not go unnoticed, however. When she spoke to Pollen, the little muta's face lit up, and the mental note resurfaced. Yeah! Maybe he could tell her about Rodd, too? Her expression morphed into one of gossiping understanding, winking obviously to Aethril. Abruptly, like a kid wanting to be picked in school, Pollen shoved her hand into the air and jumped up, her other hand braced on her arm.
It'd be rude to ask about Rodd then and there. Maybe later. In about five minutes.
Pollen grinned, bucktoothed and beautiful, and gestured toward the illusion of flowers, nodding eagerly. Zoey thought that she liked them, and that filled her with brimming warmth. She had hoped...
Blinking golden eyes, the large, six-legged monster nodded her head back, tucking herself back into a straight line and lowering her head before Aethril's gaze could meet her own. It felt like something terrible might happen if it did... like the Hand would see something in the Zoisite, and stomp it out.
...
V-Zoisite-One remembered that V-Labradorite-One was beside it as the light pulled away from the surrounding area, darkening the vibrant red glow beside it. Labradorite had changed rather drastically since its quest in Fornax, but in form only. Zoisite had been relieved that Labradorite was still the same hybrid it had always been, and that nothing terrible had happened in its absence.
(Zoisite wondered if it should have tried to go, too, but it had its own quest... A secret one, that it told not a soul within the Forge.)
Master Vargas began to bellow, his loud voice enough to make the Zoisite's quills shutter with each roar, clicking quietly under the demands spouted into the air. Zoisite understood what he was saying when he spoke of jobs and languishing, and lowered slowly into the floor, until its quills were scrapping the stone. It thought of its Overseer-- not Cain, but... but... Orthoclase-Alpha.
The Master spoke of lessons on reading, writing, and of building structures and farms. For whatever reason, the image that came to mind was not that of the beautiful gardens that Pollen had, but instead of walled pens filled with terrified lessers to be culled for meat. Already, Zoisite was beginning to resign itself to the thought that it could kill lessers for its Master and its fellow Forge members-- a gruesome task, one that it would not like. One that it knew it was made for with its guillotine-jaws.
On he went about roles: Guardians and raising of spawn, something that Zoisite might have wanted to do but had no idea where to start. It saw itself as a terror, and not particularly good at communicating-- it would probably take to raising young as its own predecessor had, which was to say: terribly.
Creating structures and digging out farmland... Zoisite's thoughts paused at the suggestion of creating lights: Zoisite could create lights, and for the first time in this loud barrage of endless words, Zoisite had a small flicker of hope. Could it string the lights? It could certainly make baubles, dozens of them. That hardly seemed like a job that would need permanently doing, but for now... it would be a start, and maybe prove some small amount of worth while also bringing some warmth to the strange, corrupted voidlight of Draco. Even if most of them had adjusted to it, it would still be nice...
Mention of hides and skins made Zoisite's quills rattle, the idea of sleeping on the fur of a dead creature did not sit well with it. Again, hunters: Zoisite could hunt, but it would try to find anything else to do if it could. Unless there came a need: Zoisite would not leave its family to starve.
Onward, then, to punishments. The mention of harming another Forge member made Zoisite lock up, wondering if the Khavur scuffle had gotten back to Master Vargas. Everyone was quiet then: more so than they had been, as though a collective breath was being held. Or maybe it was simply Zoisite. The feeling only got worse at the mention of using a name it had not earned.
Guilt festered, blisters forming under carapace.
So when Master Vargas spoke of ranks, Zoisite did not allow itself to mind the notion of being known as Meat. Zoisite already understood that it was lesser: that it was not allowed a name. It had not proven itself in any capacity. It mulled over this thought in silence as Master Vargas spoke about destroying rebels and spawns of Order. Taking their stones to make new spawn.
By the end of Master Vargas's ranting, V-Zoisite-One was plastered to the floor, and its quills could not rattle with how they were wedged between carapace and stone.
V-Zoisite-One pushed itself upright, not wanting to be mistaken for being asleep. The others hurried to call out their ideas: Labradorite wanted to dig out farmland, and Pollen shouted out wanting to garden. Pollen...
But was
Among all the other voices, V-Zoisite-One did not want to raise its voice. Instead, its head turned toward Labradorite, and it rattled quietly.
If Master Vargas approved... It would do its best.
@V-Labradorite-One @Pollen for mentions!
There were no complaints; only attentive faces. Vargas was pleased. And many of them, at long last, spoke up for themselves: claimed a fate that they desired, clinging to those threads with the freedom he had bought for them. He allowed himself a brief bask in his ego and generosity for just a moment, before pressing back into business.
He took a breath.
Aurelia he'd need to talk to in more depth, offer some general training and see where she wanted to go. He couldn't help but be surprised, too, at the decisions made by Labradorite (digging? of all things-?) and the Zoisite, but if those were their decisions, then so be it.
Ah-... there was one more.
Pollen. Vargas peered down at her, and then glanced questioningly to Aethril--then back at the little green creature.
@V-Chaos-Two (Kethri) @Vander (Pollen) @Aethril @Esther @Cain (V-Zoisite-One) @The Sentinel (Nidhogg, Obieth) @Aurelia @V-Selenite-One (Draconua) @Garnet-Epsilon @Mirac (maybe)
It seemed as though Overseer Cain was getting the scouts and Master Vargas was getting the spawn, as well as Aurelia... Khavur did not know much about that one, besides what Chaos-Two might have told it. The Reaver briefly wondered why those who had chosen the labradorite would need to report to Master Vargas rather than Chaos-Two, but that was more an idle wondrance, easily dismissed. More important to Khavur at the moment was the fact that it would have to report to Master Vargas to begin, which it intended to do pretty much immediately -- as shown by the curt, soldierly nod of its large-horned head at Master Vargas's orders. The note that it would most likely be patrolling all of Draco did make Khavur glance warily at Draconua for a quick second, but otherwise it had no problem with the task. It might have been offended had it known Master Vargas's reasoning. (It also might have been a little smug knowing that, no, that had not been Khavur's intention in taking this job... at allreally.) But it did not know, so it could not feel or think these hypothetical thoughts.
It was curious, now that Khavur had registered it, that Labradorite-One was choosing to use its new mutations to dig. Zoisite-One's choice of creating lights didn't seem too off-putting (in fact, it brought back a faded memory of the past...), but the labradorite... Khavur had come to see its sibling as more of a combatant. Of course, it knew better than to challenge the labradorite's decision (especially with their current standing), and maybe it should know better than to have opinions on anyone else's chosen business at all, but... Khavur wondered, as Khavur always does. It was probably-- no, definitely for the best that they would not be guards together.
It seemed as though Khavur was the only guard though.
Now, Khavur did have questions, but... it would rather ask them in private than speak out in such a crowd. Even though they were simple questions, there were others here who likely had more generally beneficial questions to ask. The beast was... is excited the right word? Filling with anticipation, letting its ambition bubble and steam under the surface of its bright orange skin. Khavur couldn't wait for progress to begin.
Chaos-Two felt a twinge of shame and annoyance as Aethril spoke to the owl perched atop their horns. After a moment of deliberation they slowly shifted, muscles tensing under soft fur. It was a minute movement, one only Khavur had any idea of what it could possibly mean.
It wasn't anything meant to cause permanent damage. Kethri would be able to fly away if she wanted to, it was more of a warning, a statement that even they who were so soft and open had boundaries. Teeth snapped and caught white feathers, puncturing one of her legs and sending down and fluff flying as the owl squawked and flapped wildly, taking off in a mess of feathers. A warning.
Chaos-Two bared sharp, jagged teeth at her, bits of oilstone poking out from between blunt and sharp teeth alike, some forced into crooked positions and others missing entirely, replaced by spikes of gemstone. They settled down again and turned away from Aethril, moving to sit closer to Khavur to get away from her piercing eyes. Did they do it to please her? Or did they finally snap, in a way?
They didn't know.
Oh Kethri liked Cain. Her feathers fluffed up at their words and she let out a soft little coo, nodding in agreement. She was definitely going to enjoy being under their tutelage.
But who she didn't like was this strange woman who strode in here like she owned the place. Like she was better, somehow. Of course this could be added up to ignorance, but Kethri had felt the aura of Lord Dhracia before and this woman's own was slightly similar. Perhaps she was just jealous.
Oh that did it. She'd pushed too hard and now she was going to pay for it.
A screech left her mouth as she flapped wildly, feathers flying as she hissed and spit, blood running down her leg from the new wounds that had punctured her thin flesh. She landed and limped, feathers puffed up as she checked her leg and cursed softly, face hot with anger.
Maybe the next time they had an herbal tea for their anxiety she'd slip some poison into it.
Matters were quickly turning unpleasant, however. Pale eyes flicked up towards Chaos-Two and the owl; one tensed, the other spoke back to her.
Oh, but it was amusing. The spray of blood brought a smirk to her lips. The pale creature was moving away towards one of Vargas's other creations. A heel scraped against the cave floor and Aethril's chin lifted minutely-- a call to His magic left her with nothing.
If you wanted something done properly, you did it yourself. The scraping soon turned to a rapid click-click-click as she moved across the room to Kethri, almost gliding weightlessly through the air. Her smile lingered, placidly polite, only just flashing her way before her foot found its way on top of Kethri's tail-feathers near the base to keep her from flying off or even turning around to gouge the Hand's ankles with her talons.
Her gemstone was blue... that's nice.
@Kethri @Vargas (for visibility)
"Treat Aethril with respect," he had said, and now Kethri did precisely the opposite of that.
Had she not done so, Vargas might have been more irritated with Chaos-Two: he had also said not to harm the Forge members without good cause, and starting with a bloodletting bite instead of a simple "get the fuck off of my head" was not a good beginning.
Aethril spoke, and Vargas looked to her. Ah. She was probably going to kill the damn bird.
He sighed.
Whatever would happen next, they would all do well to learn from it.
He cast a glance Chaos-Two's way.
@Kethri and V-Chaos-Two
Chaos-Two saw a bit of an opportunity. Finally, they could get revenge on that fucking owl for the months of time spent being verbally harassed and abused while she 'taught' them. Sure, she knew a lot about berries and various plants, but she knew a lot more about insulting them. She knew exactly who she was hurting, too. An emotionally sensitive, crippled Valkhound who couldn't do anything back because they were already on thin ice.
They turned to Vargas and came to him without a word, prepared for the coming punishment. It was just a bite, thankfully, as he'd said earlier, but then again, Vargas had big teeth.
It was the only defense they had. They just hoped it was enough to get off with something lighter, hopefully.
An immediate hiss left her mouth as she struggled to pull her tail feathers out from under Aethril's very lovely shoe without damaging them, but she stopped when one threatened to rip free, silently fuming. Her eyes gleamed with hatred as she stared up at the Valkhand, her head shifting to look at Vargas as he spoke.
For just a moment, however, and then she brushed that thought aside like it was the stupidest thing in the world. She scoffed internally, only a twinge of caution welling up, what little bit of actual self preservation warning her that maybe she should, y'know, listen.
Her eyes drifted over to Overseer Cain and there was a twinge of something in her cold, dead heart.
She wasn't lying. She'd kept her discoveries of various poisons close to herself. Her Evil Eyes, for example, and the deto-plant and hex berries. All things she'd kept very close to heart in order to keep their abilities hidden for better usage later. If you didn't know what was coming, you couldn't prepare for it.
Though as far as she could tell, there was no antidote for the Evil Eyes, or for exploding.