ORIGIN

Well.

It wasn't what he remembered.

The once-red stone had faded, dimmed--it was now worn and scratched with time. It smelled, too, of Gembound; he couldn't place the odor, but it stank as though prey lived here.

Vargas paced around the throne, looking it over. There were scattered bits of fractured gemstone--chrysalis, perhaps?--and fresh scent. No one was immediately visible, though, and so he paced back away, again, turning to face back toward the throne from a distance. This--the panoramic view, so to speak, complete with crumbled walls--was even more disconcerting.

It had all fallen to ruin--was no one to build it back up? Can he even sit on it, anymore..? It probably wouldn't be wise to ask him.

Vargas stood silent, still in the half-shadows, staring at the throne--fairly oblivious to all else around him, lost as he was in his reveries.

Vargas turned, at the voice, his acidic green spots glowing brightly in the darkness. His long tail swept behind him in an arc as he shifted to face Taxicolor.

A child? he wondered, at once, looking at the thing's plush coat and small stature, and somewhat-clumsy limbs.

For a moment he was still, eyeing him, and then he looked up at the throne. "Do you mean that?" he asked--and then looked back to Taxicolor, studying him. "What are you? Where have you come from?" His tone was not demanding; his deep voice, from where it towered over Taxicolor, was instead smooth. It might almost have been soothing, were it not growling from a massive monster.

Is this the state of the caves, now..? Random creations, happenstance, wandering throughout with no idea of the world around them? Unchecked, uncontrolled..? That is a sort of test, I suppose, he thought, in a distracted and uneasy way.

Vargas stared, the child's words just enforcing the idea that it was, indeed, young. He wasn't sure who the "big dark one" was--another Overseer, perhaps, lurking in Canis without his knowledge? Whatever the case, surviving an attack as something so tiny was impressive.

"Eat you? No. You survived an attack; that is good. It means you are strong. I will not eat you." Vargas paused, studying Taxicolor for a moment. "I am an Overseer. You may call me Overseer Vargas," he went on, with the tone of a command rather than an offer. "As for that..." and here, Vargas looked toward the throne, dipping his head in its direction to indicate it. He paced forward a bit, eyeing it over.

"It was once new, and shining, and it held a Master among us. It is strange to see it fallen into such disrepair." He was silent, for a moment, mulling this over. "What was the thing that attacked you in Canis, then? How did you come to be?" Was this another random creature fallen from the walls, or had someone created this one deliberately?

Vargas eyed Taxicolor, no longer moving; he simply stood near Orion's Throne, silent and thoughtful now.

"The Masters guide the caves. Though I imagine some still rest," Vargas rumbled thoughtfully. He hadn't been entirely throughout the cave himself, yet, since awakening--nothing near--but he was certain that if they were all awake, the caves wouldn't in such disorganized disrepair.

At Taxicolor's own response, he glanced to him once more. A chrysalis? Formed from gemstone, then, but he does not know by whom. I see. Vargas gave a rumble of thought. He pondered the description of the attacker, and filed it away into his memory. It didn't immediately match anyone he could think of, at least. "Now you are here," he agreed, aloud. Then, curious, he asked questions of his own. "Tell me, small one--where will you go now? What do you call yourself? What life do you intend to make for yourself in the caves?"

Does it even know the first thing of the world around it? --I suppose not even I do, for that matter; I've no idea what may have changed during my rest.

The creature, however, did not answer; and Vargas, caring nothing for patience, simply stalked away.