ORIGIN - Perfection

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He was rapidly assimilating the concept of language, and even individual words. As was normal, it would be a cycle or two before he could speak fluently--but communication, as an idea, he now grasped.

The white fawn listened attentively as Reseda spoke in his mind, taking aloof stock of the images she granted him and paying close attention to her mental speech. These caves. Home, now. Name?

The first ideas resonated with him, and he understood. The second he paused at, and for a moment, dwelt on it. He didn't know what the word "Reseda" might mean, but undoubtedly it had something to do with dry and pebbled gray-green skin, or long, low-slung bodies, or red flicking tongues. And for him? What word would he go by?

He considered, his mind embracing and enveloping the idea of his pride--something he was proud of. Not arrogance, exactly, but simply pure, straightforward pride. He was confident, and would keep his head held high and be proud always of his actions.

How could he communicate that..? Hopefully, Reseda would know the word for his new name.

Pride turned his mind to Reseda herself, vaguely curious in a detached sort of way. His thoughts had no words in them, but would not be difficult, in terms of emotion, to "translate" over. Curiosity, directed at Reseda, specifically at her task--wondering if it were related to him, and to others like him. In words, it might seem something like, Is this your task? Your work, to wait for new strangers, and to guide them? Are you the caretaker?

It held a naive arrogance to it that was not meant to be rude--but Pride simply wondered if Reseda were a sort of custodian of the caves, a servant to the newly-hatched. Like a worker bee, looking after the larva in the hives.

@Reseda

She waited for a moment as the white one tossed its emotions around in search for a name. She was patient as it decided before catching onto its emotion. A strong sense of pride, the annoying emotion that destroyed so many of her plans. And this thing felt so confident in its pride that it wanted it as its name.

Your name is Pride. It wasn't a question. She knew and understood. It was merely sending back the appropriate word, the correct title that it was searching for.

But as for her job? She was not offended by the question. After all, she did happen across many young hatchlings and try to speak with them. Although he efforts were not quite so benevolent. No, I am no caretaker. She paused as she tried to decide what she would tell this creature.

She already knew that the white one was prideful and arrogant - this was as obvious as its name. It needed to be on the same level as her so she could not admit to it her plans on taking over the caves and ruling as their feared and respected overlord. But still, she sensed in it an ambition. Or perhaps that wasn't the correct word. But something that resonated within her. The need for respect, the superiority. If she could offer it that chance, perhaps she could get it on her side.

No, she repeated, I am the seeker of the future. The future of the caves. There are many in these caves that don't understand, cannot see that they're living their lives wastefully. They are misguided, lost, alone. I shall find those that are above the rest, those that can bring change to the caves and make it happen.
She sent all of her words with thoughts to accompany them and she went through it slowly, so as not to overwhelm the white one too much. But this was not, as she had learned, in a 'babying' way. It was simply logical - she understood these things and the white one did not. She was there to inform it, help it raise itself to where it deserved, at least in its eyes, to be.

"Living with myself."
Nothing but lies.

tags: @Pride
notes:

The little one listened, or rather, felt. Reseda's thoughts streamed through his own mind.

Pride... The future... Wasteful... Those above the rest... He turned this over in his mind, for a moment, then abruptly shook his head. This was, quite simply, beyond him: he did not know the status quo, so had no way of knowing what it was about the cave's inhabitants that bothered Reseda, nor what it was she wished to do about it. What she intended to change.

Pushing up, wobbly, the fawn staggered a single step forward. He wavered, but kept his feet. His legs were somewhat splayed, but he managed to remain upright, if swaying. Pale silver-gray eyes lifted to look at the komodo, Pride not acknowledging the fact that his legs were trembling from the effort.

It was through no failing of his, after all; it did not change who he was. They would strengthen in time, he hoped, on some vague and instinctive level.

But still, he did not understand what Reseda was trying to tell him, not exactly. And so, matter-of-fact and equally as detached as the reptile was, he spoke into her mind as best he could.

Show me.

@Reseda

Perhaps it was too much. She did not understand children, even though she was a child not long ago. But her childhood was different. She had spent it with the deep one as her teacher. She had spent it in the murky, dusty pits of the room of bones. this one was awake under the stars.

So she dug up the memories that would suit her needs, cut through them and passed them along the mental stream. A cat, sassy, annoying voice calling out, "You should be apologetic." And then the most hideous creature, with purple eyes and a green tooth, smirking with a matter-of-fact voice. “I didn’t use fire or anything like that! It must have all been in your imagination!” A gore-splattered hyena, this memory more distant, screeching about the darkness, disgusting spores falling from its fur, its eyes wild and mad. A number of gembounds struggling against rats and mushrooms, of all things. And her own magic, a crack of the void, sucking away everything in its path.

Perhaps it was too much. Perhaps it was not enough. But Reseda could show no more until she knew the white one's reaction. These creatures are misguided. They stray in the dark, no lords or rulers in their place.
She needed it to understand. She needed it to see at least what she wanted it to see. Because she knew that it would be invaluable if she was going to assert herself. She could see it growing up to be a fine, strong creature. Perhaps with an understanding of what she wished to do.

"Living with myself."
Nothing but lies.

tags: @Pride
notes:

Pride listened and watched as the stream of Reseda's memories flooded through his mind. He felt little; none of these strange faces meant anything to him. If anything he was interested, detachedly curious at their appearances, their differences, but mostly a sense of mild impatience ran through him at Reseda's actions.

She wanted this from him--he understood that much. And when there was a take there also had to be a give. He knew that, too. And so he spoke again, along the link, trying to make it clearer what he wanted. Show me.

He stared at her, willing her to understand. He wanted her to show him her plans. To show him, physically, the others, and what she intended to do about it. He did not want to sit here and look at her mind; he was ready to move. There was, so far as he could tell, nothing to eat, here, and aside from eyeing the pretty stones, that meant there was no reason to stay. He was ready to move on, to see what she had to show him, to begin at his life. To decide what he was to be, he first had to see the world in which he lived. To gauge whether Reseda's goals were worth his while, he would need to see what she intended.

In an attempt to make her comprehend that he meant physically, visibly, show him, he focused his mind on simply--cutting her off. Cutting her out. He was unsure how much of her effort it took her to even maintain it; she seemed to be doing it fairly effortlessly. Perhaps this was how he was meant to communicate, how everyone communicated. But still, the effort was there, and he hoped that she grasped his meaning, this time.

@Reseda

Reseda understood. She had not caught the meaning of the white one before, but its intentions were clear now. She would physically have to show this prideful creature what she meant. She wondered where she would take it and what she would show it. And if she should impede on its thoughts at all. No, perhaps not. It was almost all pride and independence. Any attempt to try and curve its opinions would only make it resent her.

She nodded and stood. Come, then. I shall show you the caves.
She turned and began to lumber away, tasting the air for nearby gembounds. She needed to find some and show to the white one. Only then would she have a chance at gaining favor with the young stag.

*exit

"Living with myself."
Nothing but lies.

tags: @Pride
notes:

Pride let out the soft bleat of a young fawn trying to focus. His legs trembled beneath him. Yet, as Reseda spoke into his mind and turned, he forced himself to stagger after her.

His pride drove him: he refused to give way to his physical weakness. Stubbornly determined, willful to a fault, he tottered after her. Soft new hooves clicked on the stone floor.

He was pride, and pride was purpose. Drive. A drive to learn, to seek, to find and to do. He just had to learn what was there to learn, to seek, to find, to do. He had to know the world, and well, before he aimed to change it.

Pride's gangly white body staggered along, and at times he fell over, scrambling back up with a wretched cry of frustration, quickly silenced. At others he followed along with mute, grim determination. Sometimes, too, he had to scamper a little to catch up--and at times like these, despite his rapid tiring, he found that he enjoyed movement. The little spring in his step, the bounce in his tendons--the energy granted to him by a great intake of breath.

He savored it all, grey eyes bright with interest.

Behind him the diamond chrysalis was left shattered, forgotten in a heartbeat.

//exit Pride

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