ORIGIN

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Vargas' gait was not the easygoing sweep of a predator; instead it was swift, jerky, and distinctly unnerved. He was making no attempt at remaining hidden, at moving gracefully, as he lurched for Kera's domicile.

He'd found Palefur first--he hadn't left her far--and, after offering to plant her back on his shoulder, headed back here as quickly as he could. He'd bellowed, too, for Garnet half the way through Canis and Orion: "GARNET FIVE-SEVEN-... NINE?" (It was Nine, right?) "EYE OF THE OVERSEER! COME TO ME."

He'd certainly been loud enough. And now he came to a halt at the half-crumbled structures clustered at this end of the cave, pausing before one brightly-strung with lights, with (he noticed, with a brief grimace) glowing fungus all around it.

"Hand! My Hand, are you there? Come out," he called, impatiently, directly at the house.

With luck, he'd have all three in one place, and he wouldn't have to tell this story--and provide this warning--more than once.

Vargas glanced down at the half-shattered topaz clutched in one six-digited-hand.

I hope I am not giving them this warning too late.

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine @Kera @Palefur

Palefur had gotten used to sitting on Vargas's shoulder, which wasn't as dangerous as she'd first thought it was. He was large enough that she wouldn't slide off easy and she'd gotten good at balancing and gripping with her paws. She'd waited patiently for Vargas, taking the time to hunt and find water before he returned, looking...uh, disheveled was the closest she could come up with. She was still learning to read his body language and expressions.

His bellow was so loud and sudden that she flinched and almost fell off his shoulder, slapping her ears against her head just in time so that she wasn't completely deafened by his voice. She didn't know who this "Garnet" fellow was, nor the Hand, but she assumed that they were others given purpose by his will. She couldn't decide if this was a good thing or something to be horribly jealous about.

She decided to wait and see before passing judgement.

As he came to a stop, Palefur leaned over to see what was there. A crumbled ruin, it looked like, with strings of lights. He was holding something too...a gemstone of sorts? Had somebody died? Then this was graver then she thought it was. Her eyes narrowed and she settled down, waiting for the others to arrive.

Spying was returning little; as it turns out, many of the Caves's denizens didn't actively communicate where they were going and their reasons what-for, anymore. Yet another changed thing the garnet was finding to be working against it. Disappointing, but--- it could work with this, for the sake of impression. A greater reputation than that of a Champion was at stake, here. Basic necessities (though it was unaware of the free real estate) were, too. So, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine idly noted the direction the dragon went in, and perched atop a dilapidated building more aptly described as a pile of stones. The workers were long-gone, it seemed.

The air was too open, the Caves too empty to follow so closely. Asimona would likely head in the same, straight direction, yes? With flight up its sleeve, the Champion thought that it would be wise to wait a day before pursuing.

It worked out, it seemed, as Garnet Five-Seven-Nine began to mull over the many syllables it had heard in the past. Formulating a name. Garn, res, varg, seer--- "EYE OF THE OVERSEER! COME TO ME."

Feathers involuntarily puffing out and flight-response in full-gear, the champion first headed in the opposite direction of the call's source. Legs kicking out, wings wheeling to their full span, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine careened towards the shelter of a more homely structure. As cool stone fell beneath slick, almost mucous digits, clarity returned. It was a mere summons by its Overseer, one that it must answer.

Steadying with a deep breath, heart pushing furiously against its broad, hollowed sternum, the champion glided towards the violet behemoth, sitting near a rather well-decorated house. Calling for the Hand, it seemed, with a strange furry creature atop his shoulders, no less. The champion eyed such a thing for a moment (contemplating landing atop its head and making its position known) before rounding once with a chirrup, and perching on the roof of the Hand's shelter.

"Overseer Vargas, sir," it called once, bowing its head before resuming a fairly cat-like --- or gargoyle-like? --- perching manner.

Fuck me.

This seemed familiar. Despite only coming out of hibernation just days prior, Kera was enjoying a nap. Which meant-- given that her face was against the smooth floor of her den --she woke up all too easily from the rumbling of distant Vargas as he sped through Orion.

Not that this wasn't entirely out of the ordinary, of course-- huge gembound were few and far between but they needed to hunt, too. The wolf's eyes only briefly flickered open before she dropped a foreleg over her face and curled inwards to go back to sleep.

Until he started yelling, that is.

"Fuuuuuck me," she droned blearily, rolling over and then gathering herself to her paws. Whatever Vargas wanted it seemed important-- the Overseer sounded either angry or concerned and Kera was unsure if she truly wanted to figure out which one.

Nails clicking against the stone underpaw, Kera's head moved out of the fungus-strewn building, her fur bleached and glowing under the light of the mushrooms covering the entrance. She first saw Vargas-- he was usually difficult to miss, after all --though amaranth eyes soon found the furry-thing perched on his back, and the gremlin on the roof of her den.

"Overseer," the wolf absently greeted, her attention on the other various-body-parts of the Overseer than they were on Vargas himself. Her tongue rasped along her jowls as she made her way completely out and shook out her fur, before sitting back down on her haunches.

Whatever Vargas had planned here, she hoped it was, at least, interesting enough to wake up for.

@Vargas

Vargas moved closer in quick and jerky movements, giving grunts and nods to his Eye and his Hand both. He then glanced around, and lowered his voice; his body language and tone seemed almost... unsettled.

Six clawed fingers opened, palm-up, to display the shattered topaz to them. "I am here with--ahh," and here he immediately interrupted himself, fingers closing back over the stone, for the moment. "I ought to introduce you first. Kera, I found a cat." Unnecessary to say, perhaps, what with the cat being right there, and all. "This is Palefur and I will be finding out if she is useful. This is the Hand of the Overseer, Kera; she will act as my messenger and servant where I require service, as well as bringing information. And this is my Eye, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine. My spy and scout," he went on. "Now that you all know one another: you are allies, and you are the Eye, the Hand and the..."--he cast a glance at Palefur--"cat of Vargas. I brought all three of you here so I needn't warn you multiple times. I have told you all before to respect the Masters."

Now, at last, his hand uncurled; and the topaz again shimmered in Kera's magical light. Vargas tilted it this way and that so that they could see. "This belonged to another servant-... and one far more important than mine. It was Nemean's servant. And it is not only the servant who has fallen." Again the Overseer glanced around, wary, as if expecting an ambush--and his voice dropped to a quiet murmur, barely-audible even to those close.

"Nemean is one of the Masters. Astraea is another. Her servant knew too much, and I do not know what happened but Astraea came to her with his stone. He then killed her--she is in her stone," he amended. He then paused, trying to think of how to explain this. It hadn't been a good death, as far as deaths went--if one could call being forced back into reformation 'death,' even, really. But-... The severity of it was difficult to describe. Glancing over the three, he decided to give them his real warning, information that was dangerous to risk with them. But instinct (and common sense) kept him from saying too much, and he was careful with his wording. "This is a... chaotic time. I was told there has been argument between the Masters. I do not know details, but I know that Nemean died screaming for mercy, and that Astraea put forth barely a blink of effort into destroying her. She rotted away, her skin black and boiling into muscle and bone, in moments," Vargas went on, leaning in to emphasize with tone and posture just how gruesome and terrible this had been. "I want you to understand, clearly. If you encounter a Master you are to be wholly respectful! Garnet knows this, but know that being my servant does nothing to protect you. Being Nemean's certainly did not. And if you do insult a Master it will reflect at me. I have no desire to be his next target, so you will all avoid the Masters, and if addressed, be one hundred percent respectful. Whatever they desire, you say yes. If you find out something you should not know, come to me, and do not repeat it!"

He fidgeted, his uneasiness clear, but the harsh insistence in his voice was unmistakeable. His life, too, was on the line here, and one might be forgiven for imagining that he seemed almost afraid. "This is for your safety, and for mine. I do not know what is happening between them, but you are to stay out of it--are we clear?"

Vargas looked between them. He was not an empathetic being, but in a sense he was still worried for his servants. And it wasn't only their reflection on him, though that was the greatest part of it. No: they were his, his responsibility, his choice, his investment, and he intended to see them survive and flourish along with himself. It wasn't that he wouldn't kill a servant were it needed--it was that the more trustworthy allies he had, the more likely their group survival would be.

And Astraea's actions had very much put a damper on his belief that he was safe.

@Palefur @Kera @Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

Palefur's eyes raked over the other two of Vargas's servants that appeared before him. A large white wolf and a tiny creature, bowing low. A wave of jealousy briefly soured her mood at the titles he introduced them as. She wanted a title as well. It was as if she were lesser then these two when she was, in fact, the one sitting on Vargas's shoulder. But she reminded herself that she was untested. New. She still needed to prove herself.

So, instead of focusing on envy, she nodded respectfully to each in turn before turning her attention to Vargas. She listened, absorbing his information, but not fully understanding. She did not know of these Masters, nor of Nemean or Astraea. Vargas had mentioned the Masters, of course, but she had yet to understand what the word meant, but it certainly carried some kind of weight. And the way Vargas was talking about it, she thought that this was perhaps not the best time to ask for more details.

So she mulled this over. Someone very important had been killed...or, uh, temporarily killed. But somebody else had been slaughtered for knowing too much? She assumed that somehow this 'Astraea' had found out about it or, perhaps, they'd approached him about it.

Either way, they shouldn't have told anyone. Idiot. Palefur knew that if she figured anything out, she definitely wouldn't be sharing it with the subject of the information. That was just stupid, for lack of a more elegant word.

Palefur nodded, but then realized that Vargas would probably not be able to see her from his shoulder. "I understand, Overseer," she meowed. "But...if I may ask a question. How do I know if I have encountered a Master? I'm afraid I've run into few in the past and I'm not familiar with them."

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

Out from the abode came a creature somewhat similar to one of those at its reawakening --- the less foolish of the rebellious --- yet cloaked in white and equipped with a rather dirty mouth. Garnet Five-Seven-Nine would have been a hypocrite if it complained, though. It simply adjusted its haunches beneath itself, claws bearing down on the stone. Something was wrong; more so than when the Overseer had been moving towards Hydra with a number of wounds on his being. The behemoth hadn't looked quite so unnerved, then.

But, introductions first. The Champion gave a courteous nod towards either creature --- a notably deeper one to the titled Hand of the Overseer. Procedure. That cat, though, was a strange little thing. Predatory-seeming yet so small, with a ridiculous name to boot. But, to maintain professionalism, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine straightened and listened well to a warning it had adhered to for as long as it had lived.

Ruby-red eyes caught the glimmer of the shattered topaz, ears flickering back. Death was inevitable for some, but it was still a gruesome reality --- imagine if it hadn't been smart enough to stay in line. To remain on the right side of life. A dead servant was not unusual, but Garnet Five-Seven-Nine felt a heavy weight settle in its stomach with the knowledge that Astraea had deliberately forced a fellow Master into her stone, in a manner that left her with breath to cry for mercy; over a servant, nonetheless.

The champion ground its beak, claws tightening. It swallowed, nodding obediently, "a Master's business and arguments are none of ours, Overseer --- you are clear."

Met with a question, though, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine peered up at the obviously-named feline, met with a slight fog of muddled memories. Long periods of hibernation left the champion with inconsistent retrograde amnesia (funny, how the things it did remember were traumatic, forming its reflexes and apparent inability to accept any other way of life) and it could only place names upon a few masters --- but not their appearances. It could have offered them, but there was no use without description. Instead, it simply responded: "you will know if you're speaking to a Master, Cat. Their presence is commanding enough."

A pause, out of politeness for its fellow servants, and the Champion took its turn, tentative and warily curious in a small voice, "where does Master Nemean lie now, Overseer?" No further harm could come to her while she slept, "it may be favorable, in the grand scheme of things, to --- to protect Master Nemean's chrysalis from any further harm."

@Kera

Kera's head craned forward to get a look at the topaz-- and then back again when Vargas closed his fist. Immediately, Kera was concerned. Vargas' anger-and-or-worry suddenly made a lot of sense for the time being. Although murder was something Kera heard a lot of, and had experienced, it wasn't any less bad when it happened. Worst of all, she was almost certain she recognized the shape of the gem, even in pieces.

She was distracted by hearing her name again, amaranth eyes flicking upwards from the Overseer's closed fist. She looked between his angled head and the cat on his shoulder, ears fluttering back with brief, distant humour. "You found a cat," she echoed, half a distraction from the topaz.

What was a full distraction from the gemstone was the announcement of her title. The wolf lifted her head proudly for a moment, the pale fur fluffing up around her chest. She looked at the cat, announced as Palefur, and then Garnet A Lot Of Fucking Numbers, the Eyes. That much made sense, at least-- Garnet was a small thing with wings-- not an owl --and looked particularly speedy. A scout, Vargas called it.

Kera's head dipped low to Garnet when she caught it's gesture, and then her broad head moved towards the Cat of Vargas. She did not bother to hide the short-lived snort of amusement that left her muzzle, but she was quickly looking back to the Overseer, paying attention, at the mention of a warning.

And a hell of a warning it was.

Kera wasn't stupid. She'd been told to respect the Masters and-- although she hadn't encountered any --and respectful she had remained. She listened to Vargas regardless, pushing herself up to step closer to the crumpled topaz in his palm. The wolf craned her head forward, sniffing it cautiously. It smelled, of course, like Vargas, and like death. If it had been a servant of Nemean, Kera was unsure if she'd know who it was. She definitely didn't know any other servants of anyone, but the feeling of idle dread refused to be shaken from her shoulders.

"It's not our business," she agreed towards Garnet absently. "You're clear."

Both Eyes and Cat had questions of their own, when Vargas finished-- Kera had her own, of course. The most obvious one was 'what the fuck information did that servant have that resulted in Nemean getting murdered,' though this much was likely not the greatest thing to ask. Kera's tongue swiped over her muzzle for a long moment, pale gaze on the pieces of topaz.

"Who was it?" She asked. "The servant. Do you know what it's name was?" She felt pity for it, at least-- it would be nice to be able to attach a name onto someone while telling their story. Perhaps they deserved that much, even if they were dead and couldn't give a shit.

@Vargas

Vargas fidgeted as he listened. This, above all, was probably a bad sign--never mind his decision to demand/implore/threaten his new servants so suddenly and vehemently.

When he spoke, he addressed each concern rapidly and with a very to-the-point demeanor. There was nothing aggressive or demanding about it, even; he almost treated them, for a moment, as equals. Quickly, he listed off those Masters he knew to be awake. "The sea serpent in Cetus--Aquarian--the stag Astraea, and do not speak of his form or appearance in any way. Nemean, the sprite. If you are uncertain if something is a master, ask it! And if you must ask them for proof, ask the name of the Overseer whose name begins with 'V.'" He turned to Garnet. "And yes, they will usually be clear by their presence alone. As for Master Nemean: yes, I am guarding her stone," Vargas responded, with what was clearly absolutely no intention of revealing the actual location.

His great head swung, then, to Kera. "Attius? Ate-ee-us? I do not remember, exactly; but something of that nature."

For a moment, he paused--and then drew himself up a little, if possible even more looming and menacing than he usually appeared to be. "It goes without saying that anything I command or reveal to you is not to be offered to anyone, even the Masters. Should you waltz up and ask why I do not want you asking of Master Astraea's appearance, he will kill you, and then possibly me, as well." It didn't help that Vargas was completely bewildered on the topic. Was Astraea truly so vain that he would kill simply because he thought himself uglier, now-? It baffled him.

"Our conversations are to be held in the strictest confidence! If you have any further questions you may ask. If not, you may go." He glanced sidelong at Palefur, on his shoulder--wondering just what use he'd find for her; meanwhile, he had deeper concerns at hand.

@Kera @Palefur @Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

Palefur listened, mentally noting each of the Masters that Vargas told her about. Aquarian, Astraea, Nemean. She had a feeling that there were more, but for now, those would do. A sea serpent in Cetus, a stag, and a sprite, although the latter was currently locked in a chrysalis. It didn't seem like Vargas would budge for information, and Palefur was too terrified and respectful of him to prod for anymore. So she simply nodded and glanced down at the stone.

She shifted, hyper aware of the ruby in her shoulder, feeling it nudge her skin as her shoulder moved. Imagine being killed for knowing too much, to have your gem ripped out and broken. She shivered. Nope, she'd be keeping whatever she learned to herself. Not that she wouldn't before - any and all information she held to herself jealously.

She had one question on her mind that was burning to be answered. Bravely, and quickly, before her nerve ran out, she asked, carefully, "You say this is a chaotic time, Overseer...have the Masters ever turned on each other like this? At least as long as you remember?"

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

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