ORIGIN

Vargas was quite close by, as it happened, and the hoarse cry alone would've been enough to alert him. He had turned, opening his jaws to respond, when a crash of thunder shuddered the stone all around him. He jerked, despite himself, flinching from the unexpected and deafening sound.

He may, even, have sworn a little beneath his breath, something forbidden about nonexistent anatomy attached to the Creator.

Irritated (yet intrigued) he swept into a swift pace that would carry him toward the tunnel mouth. The Sentinel was hunting; even he had to eat, and Vargas was always certain to ensure he was nearby if the Sentinel was not. So it was the purple Leviathan himself who came into view, acid eyes picking apart the darkness for any sign of the one who had so shattered its grinding quiet.

For a moment, he was blank upon spotting the mutated cat: but then his memory (honed by centuries of such precise categorizations) dredged up a few details. Madhukar. Storm magic. Transcendent. He recalled, if vaguely, their introduction some cycles past in Draco; recalled making special note. Not very many had passed the mock-owl's trials.

"Madhukar, was it?" he greeted, with loudly aggressive cheer. His powerful strides came to a halt a couple Vargas-sized paces away, and he peered down, wondering what had brought her here. Order, most likely? he thought to himself; his only real encounters with her had been to see her ready to fight the node in Ursa. They'd all failed, but it was the effort that counted. Sort of.

Vargas was not the best at reading facial expressions, and cats were, perhaps, not the best at having them. Let alone whether Madhukar was even showing such things. Oblivious, then, to any inner turmoil, his businesslike tone marched on: "What brings you here?"

Her speech was stammering, uncertain, and Vargas took this as a sign of intimidation in his own presence. This pleased him, inaccurate as it might have been; some (very large) part of him still felt that fear displayed before him was only right and proper. It was... respectful, in some way, he thought. It meant that Madhukar recognized the threat that he could pose, and his power.

With this completely misread conclusion tucked away, he assumed a somewhat magnanimous perspective, peering down indulgently at the little rock clutched in one hand. Emerald. Fungus, he thought--one of Astraea's. A Master's power to sense a stone's very essence was still a little strange to him, but... he was fairly sure he'd seen this one, somewhere. Where, he couldn't recall. Without a shape to tie it to, his memory couldn't pluck knowledge from the past. Ahh, well.

"You require it revived-? Whose was it, and why do you wish it given new life?" he asked, bluntly. He reached for it, clawed thumbs unfurling, though he didn't move to take it; it was just one of those universal "let me see that" gestures. "Why can you not revive it yourself? -Do you not know how?" he asked.

His questions, thus far, were patient. He'd never had anyone come to him with such a request before--perhaps Madhukar had already failed at trying to revive the thing, and feared doing so again. But he wanted a full set of answers before he advised the cat-like creature on its options.

He, himself, could not give it life right now; he was still recovering from his creations only a couple weeks before. And he would have normally refused such things outright, regardless, but... this one had tried, at least, to aid a cause that he had authorized (if not led) and he was trying to establish the Forge as something of a more welcoming locale.

Perhaps, he thought, if we create links to this creature via family, they will come here more often--and bring others, too. He wasn't sure he wanted that--he'd need to think it over, but it was an option that until now simply hadn't occurred to him.

Twisted. Now that sounded familiar. He couldn't at once place it, though he tried: he ran the memory back through his mind, searching for a body and a face to fit alongside the name.

But Madhukar was still speaking, and he paid careful attention, even as he took the little emerald in hand, turning it over against the glinting of Draco's violent light. Yours h-atch. Mine... Vargas glanced up from the stone, studying Madhukar briefly. "Don't," he finished, understanding. He offered the stone back out in one long arm, wholly unaware of the flat glare and the fear and threat that the cat-creature had been feeling. A brown and cream cat, he suddenly remembered, and blinked. The emerald had been in its forehead. It had been here, too, in the fight in Ursa: it had died, hadn't it?--in the Deathmatch. To Erebos, if I am not mistaken, he recalled. That one was training with the Forge, but it had left the stone behind, so perhaps this one had picked it up, afterward.

Hmm. Perhaps he could have demanded it, but he had no real need for it, and it was Erebos's own mistake to leave the stone behind.

"I remember this one." It had claimed to be good with claw and fang, and able to draw out fungus. Why had it joined the Deathmatch..? Such a small creature, expecting glory? The little ones never won. That being said... "It did not deserve its loss," he observed. Nemean had thrown something at it, caught it on fire. It hadn't been Erebos's kill.

In any case-...

"Mine hatch because I am a Master. I do not merely grant stones new life, to mix with what lay in them before, do you understand-? I create something new with stones. Whatever was in there before-" (and he pointed at the stone) "-would be lost, if I brought it to life in my way, the way that cannot fail."

He studied Madhukar, for a moment. They must have been close, then-? Family, perhaps? Both were cat-like, so to him, that made total sense. Vargas thought cats were fantastic, but they also sort of all looked the same, to him. "It is possible one of the Forge would be willing to revive it, but I will not force them to. I would try to do it the old way, for you, but I have only just formed new creations; you would have to wait. And it might fail," he added, in warning. "But yours ought not to fail. Your magic is strong, is it not-?" he asked, peering at her closely.

He wasn't sure what made this one stone so important, even, or why Madhukar had thought to come to him. They must have been close, yes; and she does not wish it to fail. To destroy the stone, he reasoned. And she knows of me from prior; it makes sense. It was not that unreasonable, really, but it was the first time he'd encountered it all the same, and it left him somewhat bemused. Still--to the point. "If one of my creatures does revive it, it will look like them, as well. And if it forms here, it will be Chaotic in nature. If it is from one of ours touched with Chaos, it will be Chaos, too. You do understand?" he asked.

Vargas blinked, studying Madhukar with brief confusion. "No," he answered bluntly; "you said you have passed Emuh's trial. If that is truth, then your magic should be more than sufficient to return life to a gemstone."

As for his creations-?

"The Forge? -We have a number of members. If you are asking what we do," Vargas continued, turning to gesture back toward the Black Spire, "we are the ones performing the duties required of this nest. Creating the beasts sent away for our Creator's use. If you are asking of who might revive your stone-?" He turned back, peering at her. "There are a number of us. It depends on if you intend to take the child, and raise it yourself." He assumed as much; or why care so much about it? "Some of them may be willing to give you their magic in such a way. If you planned to give the child to the Forge to raise and use," and what a phrase that was, "then I would ensure it was revived. Cats are always a useful design. Our Overseer is part cat," he went on, "and one of our most skilled and trusted members. Our Sentinel, and Chaos-One--the serpent--those are my personal creations, my spawn. Khavur, if you have met it, is my creation. Some of them are spawn of my spawn," he went on idly, and rattled off a couple names: "V-Zoisite-One, V-Selenite-One, Ruby Beta and so on. A couple others are old creations, or old Champions of Hydra."

He fell silent, and waited; he had nowhere else to be, just now, and so despite his authoritative bearing, he was not impatient or domineering. He simply listed answers to the feline's questions, and wondered if they would guide her toward a decision; it was clear that Madhukar hadn't quite known what she was getting into when she'd come here with her request. It wasn't that he was denying her--but perhaps she would now grasp more clearly where she would like to go with this.

Is it structural? he wondered idly, listening to Madhukar stammer her way through her thoughts.

Had he known her real thoughts, he'd have had incredible food for thought, though his help might have been questionable at best. But he only had her few and stuttered words to go by, though he bore them with calm patience.

"Of course, if they will speak to you. You will find them around Draco, generally, though some move to Pegasus to hunt and eat. What you would need to offer them is up to them; if you ask them to revive the stone for you they may ask something of their own. Tell them I have given permission, though, if you wish it." He was not particularly concerned, even if Madhukar took the child, but in that case the creature reviving it might fail. He had no way of knowing.

If he'd been a strong sort of "sympathy" sort of fellow, he might have felt it then, but for now he simply watched Madhukar, and wondered what she'd do next.

There was one other thing, though, and Vargas wondered about this, too. "If you are looking for someplace to live, yourself, the Forge can always use more members. Of any kind," he added.

Cats are always welcome. Though these days, 'cat' was perhaps a stretch.