ORIGIN - SEND ME TO ENTROPY

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Something in it screamed to insist that it wasn't visions. It was real war, it had left the caves for a while to tear apart their enemies, it had felt every blow as if it were real, but it knew that it had no proof of such. Its body was free of any scars it would logically had picked up. Perhaps they had simply been just visions.

It didn't know if it preferred to think of them as such.

It nodded, wordless - what could it fucking say right now that would not doom it? It feared if it opened its mouth, the beast would claim its throat and roar obscenities. And if it did, they would die. Both of them. So SHUT UP! And like that, it calmed. Or quieted. It could not tell, nor did it care.

It trembled in place for a moment, and then realized that Vargas had dismissed them - for the time being, at least. And it would do just that - leave to Pegasus where it would do the following, in order: set fire to a tree, stand still for 10 minutes as it burned, find something to hunt, accidentally roast it beyond any reasonable edibility, eat it anyways, stew in the horrible flavor and self-hatred and try not to hurt itself, set fire to another tree, find something else to hunt, successfully hunt, and then lay on its back in the meadow for around 30 minutes.

All of it felt too...quiet. Even the moments in which it was destroying, it wasn't satisfying. That is because NOTHING but WAR will satisfy us now! That was very true. It had seen the worst, felt the worst - what more but death could these caves serve to satisfy or frighten it? The answer was nothing. Nothing besides Vargas's promise or being remade and the Black Spire itself truly made it feel humbled. Anchored it. It took that threat and wound it around its neck like a leash. No Master needed to do that, it would do it willingly.

And while it "rested", if setting fires and screaming a bit could be considered resting, clarity returned with each passing moment. For every minute it stepped away from the nightmares, the more and more they felt like that - nightmares. There had always been a horrific quality to them, something grainy and too bright and too painful. Time had skipped in places, its body had shifted and the wounds it had suffered truly should have killed it many times over. If it feared death again, then it was back in reality. Where it belonged.

A deep breath. It remembered. Esther. Daphne. Onyx. Azrael. Scion. It was not with incredible clarity, that veil of nightmares had irreversibly damaged it, but it remembered enough.

And so it returned to Vargas a little over an hour later in a far less manic state, almost looking like a guilty teenager the way its arms were crossed tightly across its body. Its eyes were clearer, present, and mildly angry - this was about the baseline for how V-Ruby-One had been before. It sat down on the floor in front of him, ready for the lecture, and sighed, resigning itself to the full rundown it had come up with during its "rest".

"I remember. It was Esther. They followed me to Andromeda. I don't know why. I was mad at them, stupid reasons. It escalated, we both lost control. I lost," it spat on the ground. "When I woke up, I...ran here I guess. It was bad. I can't remember too well, it was too close to-" it swallowed and cut itself off, verging away from even thinking about the nightmares. Something was heating up in it. Instead, it gestured a claw towards the shards of its chrysalis. "I remember wanting the Spire to break. But He appeared. And destroyed me." Its mouth shut with an audible clack as it gripped its sides tight with its claws, almost to the point of drawing blood. Like it was physically holding itself together. Perhaps it was.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas regarded V-Ruby-One, upon its return and reasonable conversation--or relatively so, anyway--with some surprise. Somehow he'd not held out hope that it would truly regain control to this extent. It was... a relief to see. He was aggravated by the entire "all the Forge-spawn are messes" situation that had been ongoing for years, now, so the knowledge that this one at least wasn't immediately a candidate for "so do I kill it or-" was... yes.

A relief.

He exhaled sharply, and nodded, turning fully to face it. "Good. Better." And with a grunt, Vargas glanced at the Black Spire. It didn't bode well that Rrevalk had--if indeed it had been Him--felt the need to intervene directly. It should never have gotten that far, and Vargas feared what might happen if His attention was too strongly drawn in this direction. "Try not to anger the Creator any further," he "suggested" (in fact, commanded), tone dry enough to ignite. He looked back to Ruby-One. "It sounds as though you have already been punished by His hand, at least for... that." He hadn't known it had tried to destroy the Black Spire. It had gotten off very, very lucky, in his eyes. He'd not have been surprised to find the hand of Rrevalk himself plunge down and simply crush the nest for such an offense.

Then he thought. He thought for a long moment. He'd considered various things he could say to Ruby-One, depending on how their condition was when they returned. Suggestions, tasks, things to calm it down. He wished to impart wisdom: to be honest, completely so. But he knew this was unwise. It wasn't that deceit was the smarter option: it was that if Vargas launched into a long-winded explanation of anything, he doubted that V-Ruby-One's patience would hold. It would snap, again, or at least strain greatly, and that would be incredibly counter-productive.

So Vargas took a breath, and tried for honesty... with brevity.

"I have much I could say to you, about all of this. But I do not think you would have the patience to hear it. If in the future you have the desire to hear of the inner workings of the Forge, and the problems I bear, and to make suggestions: then come to me. In the meantime-. If you stood where I stand: how would you deal with yourself, and with Esther?"

@V-Ruby-One

Its lip curled, a snarl without any true anger behind it. "Yes, punishment enough." The darker part of it still warred against its rationality - had it been punishment or a blessing? Had it been the whip upon a disobedient Hound or the installation of purpose where there had been none before? It did not express these conflicting thoughts to Vargas, thinking he could NEVER understand. He was not in V-Ruby-One's place, he was not in that limbo that it had always felt. With the expectations of a valkhound on its shoulders, but not quite a true valkhound. With the burden of Chaos but no true teacher to guide it through. With little to temper its hatred and anger until it lashed out too far and the boot had come crushing down, mercilessly.

It nodded. It couldn't decide if it regretted the nightmares or not, but it did not want a repeat of what happened at the Black Spire.

It looked at Vargas and stared almost blankly. What? Why would it think that it had any fucking interest in what was with the Forge, when this damn group had been nothing but fucking misery for it? Why would it care what responsibilities Vargas bore when it had only the barest respect for him? It scoffed, but did not elaborate on the noise - it could have been at the comment that it would not have the patience to listen (which Vargas was correct about) or that he was asking it to punish itself.

Ridiculous. What did he expect it to say? OH LET ME PUNISH MYSELF, YES!! BECAUSE I WILL GIVE MYSELF AN APPROPRIATE PUNISHMENT, SIR!! WHICH IS NOTHING!!! It glared, knowing this was a test and that if it did, indeed, say "Nothing" then it would probably be worse. It growled, humiliated, insulted, and almost giving into the urge to rise and battle the fucking Master over this slight.

Instead, it tempered itself as best it could - it was easier to do, now, that it was over-satisfied with its stabilization, and recently off of resting and recovering. But there was still a fire and spite and a bite to its words as it spoke - "If it were me? I would give myself the day off for the shitstorm that came from that mess. I would pop Esther into their chrysalis. Wasn't there something about mirroring the damage dealt? I got off worse - go and hurt Esther or something. Hurt me too, if you want. Like I haven't had fucking enough of it."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He felt his patience wane again.

"Yes," he growled, "there was. ...For attacking a fellow Forge member. But I am told you struck first..?" His point was clear: if anyone was at fault, it was Ruby-One for initiating an attack.

That was the impression he had gotten, at least. Esther had said--what, exactly? That Ruby-One 'had thought it was a good reason to fight?'

He had no issues putting V-Ruby-One back in its chrysalis, if that was what it wanted. But then, maybe Esther had... hmm. Not lied. He doubted they would lie. But misrepresented the truth, perhaps? Lied by omission? He waited to see what V-Ruby-One would say, studying it closely.

@V-Ruby-One

Its eyes narrowed even further and it snarled, a quieter sound, more to itself then anything. "It was a not-so-friendly discussion. And Esther lost control first - maybe I was being a little too...chaotic. I don't know. I told you I don't remember too well. But I remember them losing control before I did. I might have stoke the flame, but I didn't start it. I just made it worse." Like everything else, right? It made everything worse. GOOD. Was it a good thing?

Ugh. Fuck. Something in it was feeling sick. It didn't want to lie to a Master - it wasn't much of a liar anyways. But there was something in it that was afraid of the punishment he would deliver. Death, possibly, but it didn't think this was a deep enough transgression to earn that. But...if he decided to put them back in their chrysalis...

It did not think it would be able to handle it.

Something somber came over it briefly as it thought about it, something desperate was clawing in its throat and for a second the beast was suppressed as that pitiful, broken part of it took sudden control and rasped out in a weak, broken voice, "Master Vargas. Please don't put me in a chrysalis again. Hurt me if you need to but not...that." It would break. It would die. Its mind would be destroyed. It couldn't do it, not after two in a row, not after it finally woke up. It didn't even notice that it was holding its face in its hands, the panic was overriding everything else. Don't do it, please don't do it.

It was almost pitiful. AND PATHETIC.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

It was notable that it wasn't directly answering his question. Vargas's gaze sharpened, his body hulking upward just a little.

"You do not remember? You do not remember who struck first?" He wanted to know this; it was one of the pieces of information he required before choosing their punishment--both Ruby-One's and Esther's. Part of him was fairly sure neither needed punishment. They'd been stupid, but both had already suffered for it. Esther's burns had been, he recalled, relatively severe. But whatever Esther had done had been enough to chrysalize Ruby-One. Unless its own magic did that, he realized, but kept this to himself.

To its pleading, he did not yet respond; he waited for an answer to the first question. He hoped it had forgotten, because lying... He tried not to sigh. He was fed up with this.

He was, at the moment, liable to simply tell the Forge that anyone losing control would be remade, end of story, henceforth. It wouldn't be fair--he wouldn't do that. But for just a moment, he wistfully entertained the thought.

@V-Ruby-One

It was also growing sick of this. The fear of being put to sleep again and sent back to the wars that part of it howled to return to, the fear of death and being remade into something else. It couldn't. It couldn't handle this. It couldn't speak another word or it would shatter. It had become so fucking fragile, hadn't it? How long would it take to remake itself?

So instead of speaking, it just pressed the memories directly into Vargas's mind. It was like bad television, grainy and distant and broken in places. There was a droning sound to it too, the distant sound of war that seem to overlay all of V-Ruby-One's memories now. But he would see, at least, that the "first strike" was dubious, at least in V-Ruby-One's mind. The argument that dissolved into a burst of magic from Helion that wasn't intended on physical harm but burrowed its way into Esther's mind regardless. And how Esther lost control - fire that was meant for Helion instead blazed on their own skin. The rest dissolved to red and black and violet chaos as the two corrupted gembound traded blows and flames and the droning of war roared louder, as its memories seemed to falter under the strain of the nightmares it had suffered.

And it ended consumed in flames and a clawed hand crashing down to send it to sleep.

"I don't know who struck first," it snarled as the magic faded away, leaving it hungry for more, something worse, but it couldn't bring itself to do anything else. "We both did. I don't know. Why is it important? We both suffered enough." It wanted to hate Esther so much, it wanted to want them dead, but...it was tired. Its mind felt like it was about to split open from the rollarcoaster that was its current mental state and the gymnastics it felt like Vargas was putting it through.

PLEASE DO NOT KILL US! Please don't put me to sleep again.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

The moment he felt the magic reaching out, Vargas lashed out in turn. It was a sharp, powerful and decisive strike: there was no hesitation in it, merely a slam downward to strike V-Ruby-One at the top of its skull, just before the gemstone. He was not aiming to break a bone, or the like--merely to stop the Corrupted magic that had begun to trickle at him.

"NEVER do that again," he snarled, furious. Once again, he'd gone from calm to nearly enraged. And now it really was anger; he drew himself up, quills on end, a deep, loud and angry growl in his voice. "This is not your place! Not without invitation--your magic is corruptive, did your lifegiver not teach you this?!" It was with angry disbelief that he considered the possibility: did Azrael not know..?

Admittedly, Vargas could not be fully corrupted--at least, he didn't think he could be. He'd have been already, if that were the case. But the effects were there, and their ranking was what it was, and to even attempt such a thing-...

He exhaled sharply. "Whether you have 'suffered enough'--you and Esther both--that is not your decision to make. Your begging was more appropriate. I am often merciful, V-Ruby-One. I am patient. I try to be fair. But if you insist on challenging me and making these--statements and demands, as though you have earned the right to do so, you will find my patience lacking."

He could not remember having been this angry. It wasn't just the spell attempt. It was that, on top of its words--on top of everything else. On top of Maximus's repeated failures and whining. On top of Orthoclase-Alpha's cringing and wretchedness.

Why could they not simply work? Why could they not FUNCTION, as they had in the past?

Vargas took another, growling breath before speaking again. "If you lose control again, I will kill you. That is your verdict. Get out of my sight."

@V-Ruby-One

It wasn't the strike or the pain that did it, it wasn't the sudden anger of a Master, it was the denial of the magic it had offered to him. Not offered, of course, but regardless. It had been rejected. Stopped. Scolded. The strike was hard enough that it fell back, breaking its fall with a pair of its arms, staring at him, shocked. The pain registered, but it didn't mind it much. It wasn't much of anything. But the blow against something else within him, directed at the beast.

It did not like that.

He...he is the MASTER of the CHAOS FORGE. He works for the CREATOR, He of CHAOS ITSELF. AND HE HAS REJECTED CORRUPTION!! Is he terrified of this power that he claims to work with, work for? Is it so FOUL that he cannot have it so much as touch him?! He is a MASTER!! Does he not have the POWER to simply NOT be corrupted by it?! HE CLAIMS TO BE OUR MASTER BUT HE HAS REJECTED US!! The broken thing in V-Ruby-One whimpered its disagreement - surely he has better reasons, perhaps he can be corrupted and he doesn't wish to be, perhaps it is so corrupting that even he, with his Master's power, would not be able to fully control it. But it was overridden with something like reason from the middle - if he stood so often before the Black Spire, lived in and breathed daily the corrupted air of Draco, created Valkhounds and bred the corrupted for war, then surely he was at least resistant to it, if not immune.

Then why? Why stop it, why scold it? Why get angry at it for trying to show him the truth? HE HATES US. WE ARE A FAILURE TO HIM. WE WILL SHOW HIM WHAT WE ARE!! And images of Vargas consumed by corrupted flames and lightning passed across its vision and it could not help but fall into these fantasies. It hated him, it remembered now that it hated him. And this only solidified that raging hatred, implanted a grudge within its heart that it would never let go. Too like its life-giver in this regard.

It listened to the rest, but it did not speak, not trusting itself not to make this situation worse. So it listened and its hatred mounted with each biting word. OH HE LIKES BEGGING? HE WILL NEVER SEE IT AGAIN!! It had little control over the beast at this point, it was clawing on the inside of its body, raging to be free, it was all it could do to hold onto its strained leash.

KILL US? HE CAN TRY!! It rationed with itself then - if Vargas attacked it now, it probably would die. But it could be stronger, still. It could control itself, its chaos. Maybe one day, it could hold its own against Master Vargas. But they needed time, they needed more strength. Visions of chaos would not hold them through true war.

It knew what it was going to do. But it had to play nice for a while. So it grit its teeth, swallowed its pride and nodded. "Fine," it spat, pushing itself back up into a sitting position and then standing. It said nothing else, didn't even look the Master in his eye. It didn't want to further summon his ire before it had the chance to regain itself, put itself back together into something stronger then before.

It glared at the ground at its feet before it turned and walked away - out of his sight, as he commanded.

*exit

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

If he'd known V-Ruby-One's inner thoughts, Vargas might've found himself even angrier.

As it was, all he saw was a spat, angry yet almost subdued (or was he imagining things?) 'fine,' and a creature studying the floor as it left.

His own anger was quelled, some, by guilt of all things. Not particularly strong--not on the heels of all his pent-up frustration. But enough. He was right in that it was wrong. But he was wrong, in some sense, because he really did not think its control was where it should be. Could it help itself?

Maybe. Maybe it had yet to train such things.

An idea occurred to him, then. He considered, but... Would he be willing? More importantly, would it put him at risk? V-Ruby-One was dangerous--of that there could be no doubt. But... for patience, training... Hmm.
He turned, wasting no time. He would make his way directly to Leo, and then-... well. He would see.

exit Vargas

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