It lingered at the edge of the cave of Draco, acidic eyes gleaming in the dim void-light, glaring at nothing in particular. Perhaps at the others of the Forge going about their day, discussing tactics, spars, daily news, future plans, the normal things that were both a grounding stability and also a maddening repetitiveness that made Helion want to start a tantrum just to change the monotony.
But mostly it was glaring at the Spire - as it usually seemed to do when it had nothing else to do. Like all the spite it could muster in a single glare could change its fate to ever dance on the edge of Chaos. And that thing there, that foul, wonderful pillar of black crystal shimmering like oil and groaning like a dying beast, was the source and the cause, the beginning and the end. It wondered if it could shatter, what amount of power would be required to break it. Make it react, at the very least. It pondered what that would look like, to attempt to destroy that accursed thing. Surely it would spell disaster.
It saw explosions of energy, black and green and purple pooling and spilling from a fractured crystal. Flesh melted from bone, blood evaporated into a fine mist. Every atom torn asunder by the radiation it would create.
Just the thought of the carnage brought a stirring to its stomach, like a disease rearing its ugly head. It swallowed down that delicious threat of losing control and growled to itself, folding in its lower arms against its body and digging claws into the fur of its sides, as if it could hold itself down to the earth.
And that was how Helion spent its days, silently, almost invisibly fighting a slowly losing battle in the shadows of Draco, waiting for the day it all ended, or the day it brought the end.
Pesto believed, deeply and firmly, that Ruby-One needed to go touch grass.
Of course, neither of them had actually earned the right to go to the grassy place on their own, but Pesto's point stood. Ruby-One had done NOTHING but sit in Draco and stare at the Spire all day. Rotting in the shadows. Seething and sulking. He felt stifled just seeing how miserable it was. Today was the final straw, really. The frustration and pressure building up in his chest (of course, who knows how much of that was just congestion) was simply too much to handle.
"WOOOF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK WOOF AWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" he howled, upon seeing Ruby-One stare into space with dull green eyes for the nth AND FINAL TIME. Sweet Vargas above, how could it STAND living like this!? "RAAAAAGH. ARRRF ARF ARF. WOOF!!!" He couldn't even muster the words to express himself; he was just that frustrated. The barks HAD to come out of his system first. "COME ON! ARE YOU JUST GOING TO STAND THERE LIKE THAT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?! DO SOMETHING! COME PLAY! COME FIGHT! IN THE NAME OF OUR CHAOS GOD OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION, GO TOUCH SOME GRASS!"
THERE, he said it. And for good measure, the giant Valkhound started bouncing off the walls with excess energy, dribbling green germy spit from the corner of its mouth and its lolling tongue, leaping around Ruby-One in clatters of claws, spikes, and rocks, and even daring to sneak in a quick nip at the sulky cat-demon's heels. (It wasn't very aimed or accurate.) PLEASE. DO SOMETHING. SOMETHING OTHER THAN WHATEVER YOU'VE BEEN DOING.
@V-Ruby-One
Gaze flicked towards the incoming Valkhound and distaste was already spilling onto its tongue. It growled deeply as it slowly stood from its spot at the raucous barking, ready to relocate itself to be away from this...ugh, this annoying mutt of Vargas's creation. But he seemed to have made Ruby-One the source of its frustrated prancing and dancing around and the demon-cat had absolutely no interest in entertaining it.
But this wasn't just any old forge member. This was one of Vargas's personal monsters, the one that would be released to do who knows what on the surface world above. Azrael had mentioned them before, but this was the only one created during Helion's time. It wasn't sure how to act around it. Was it supposed to be respectful? Was he beneath him, in the weird ranks of the forge? (
It curled its lip as its eyes tracked Pesto's bouncing off the walls, a soft growl beginning to rumble from its throat.