ORIGIN - Questionable Artistry

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Well, this wasn't going to be the clean near-death he had been aiming for.

"Be still," he hissed through clenched teeth, switching back to his seared forelimb. Six fingers--three to each side of Imp's throat--clamped back down. Within instants the reptile's eyes had rolled back, his jaws opening and closing as he wordlessly choked. Once Vargas was sure that he would keep control of his own muscles long enough to finish it, he looked to Garnet, speaking while Imp struggled.

"It is pointless to speak to this one. That is not your failing--it will be a gift for Master Nemean when she wakens, and I am sure that she will be pleased with it. With us. Now--the other one; Asimona? The white dragon; where is it? Have you found it?" he asked.

He staggered, a bit; his body was still stiffening, and he knew that in a few moments he'd find himself near-paralyzed. Had he been a smaller being, the venom would have hit much stronger, much harder, and again he had to admire the tenacity of this particular creature. Shame it was a useless, disrespectful child--nothing more than a beast. Perhaps Nemean would deign to teach it respect; if not, he was sure that it would provide her some entertainment, a way to blow off steam once she woke in a rage from Astraea's poor treatment.

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

A squabble continued from Imp's end - particularly that with a point - and Garnet's gaze trailed to the floor. If if had just been a few minutes slower, hesitated even once, it could have reconsidered if this was really what it wanted: a fellow survivor with a positive outlook on life itself. The first creature to really be called friend and have it be referred to as such.

Ruby eyes took a moment to acknowledge Vargas as he spoke to it. They were glazed over, dull in the dim lights. Slowly, its ears pricked forth, words filtering in and being barely processed, tossed into a haphazard heap. On autopilot, the shaking little thing chirped, "I last caught sight of it in Orion. I was spotted by another that it was with and waited for distance. It has gone somewhere through the far end of the cave. I'll find it again." A statement it wasn't sure it could follow up on.

Quivering where it sat, the champion blurted, "but wait." Oh, the nerve. Stop it. Its gaze flickered to Imp's, rolled-back and deprived of air. Plodding forward a scant few, treacherous steps, Garnet's voice wavered, "I do not believe this one understands what - what it means to go against the Masters and - speak ill of them. None of these new ones do."

It tensed, ears flicking back immediately.

@Vargas

Imp writhed, consciousness slipping away. He was angry, more than anything--rage at all this gripped him. It wasn't that it was unfair--it was that something was choking him, and he wanted to fight it.

He lashed his tail, his wings, his stubby hind legs, but grey swallowed his vision and his sound faded to a dull and distant roar. He forgot what he was doing--then he remembered--then he forgot, again, and the grey drained into black.

His body fell limp. A few moments later, as death threatened to claim him--and as Vargas at last moved his spindly forelimb--the stone rose up to encase his body. This--the tiger's eye--was beautifully-striped with golds and browns--but Imp was nowhere to be seen within, obscured by its opaque shell.

Vargas studied Garnet, briefly. "I know this. It seems to be another world, does-"

The little bastard's stinger jammed directly into his other hind leg. How had he twisted around that far? ...Vargas blinked... two eyes, then six, swaying. He swore softly, under his breath, and then slowly, carefully, stepped aside. Imp's chrysalis was reforming, and he found himself staggering beneath the muscle-loosening power of not one, but two oversized Hydra scorpion stings.

"...It is something I must leave up to Master Nemean-... regardless... err." He stumbled, and then lowered himself to lay on the ground. "...I will require a few minutes. You are free to go, if you wish, or you may remain to discuss this-... creature, and your reward."

The Overseer then stiffened and collapsed in place, aggravated beyond measure by this delay. He had wanted to move Imp's stone before it settled into the rock, but apparently he couldn't even move himself. He was familiar enough with the effects of the various scorpion stings, but he'd not experienced them more than a couple times--it took a great measure of foolishness to be hit by something so slow in the open desert. At least he knew what to expect, but-... "Perhaps she will find use for it," he allowed, at last, through gritted teeth.

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

Chatoyant stone overtook the unconscious Imp, and that was enough to send the garnet careening over the edge with nerves. On one hand, the hybrid's fate could have been much more grim; on the other, Master Nemean would not be kind to him on reemergence. A third hand came into view, wondering if it would ever meet that fate personally, to be granted the mercy of rest only to be in the paws of a Master — and so soon after being reduced to rot and decay.

Vargas lowered himself, jelly-legged Garnet knew, distantly, if that had been it — it would not stand again. Just one glancing sting was nearly enough to incapacitate its leg entirely and leave a nasty reminder for later.

Its ruby-red gaze shifted. "I'll wait," it chirped, knowing it couldn't move from this spot if it tried. He's doomed he's doomed he's doomed he's doomed —

@Vargas

Vargas felt annoyed.

He often felt annoyed, but not to this extent.

Acid eyes flicked to Imp's chrysalis, the rock completing its formation around his limp form. He knew that if he'd been trying to kill the little beast, it'd not have stood a chance; but even with only weak magic, it had managed this.

Ugh.

Vargas was usually a patient beast; it came with age, and being a hunter. But right now he had things to do, and after a moment he abruptly called on his own magicka in an attempt to force his body to obey. It was a risk, he knew, and rather a foolish one--it wasn't like he was in any immediate danger.

And his impatience cost him.

He felt tentatively at the threads of blood through his body, manipulating them, but he usually used this magic to brutally incapacitate. Its intricacies were really beyond him, and as he tried to force his own body to move, he'd swear he felt something twist. One hind limb rose, turning at an awkward angle, threatening to snap, and the Overseer snarled.

After a few moments, he was left lying there, panting, recovering. At the very least, his leg didn't feel broken--but it ached, badly, and he could feel the muscle cramping and spasming badly. "DAMN the little beast, and damn his stinger, too. I'd have torn it off-..."

He trailed off, grumbling. He couldn't really move, just yet, and granted, lying in a heap on the floor wasn't the most dignified position. With a grunt, the Overseer addressed Garnet again. "Five-Seven-Nine--you have always been one of the foremost of our survivors in any trial you took part in. Thus far you're proving an admirable Eye. You saw the home in which my Hand has instilled herself, yes-? I took the liberty of looking those ruins over for you. If you choose one, I will see that it is properly tended to, given amenities and the like--what do you eat?" he added, squinting at him.

He had no idea, he realized, if Garnet was a carnivore, herbivore, or "other." Or perhaps "both." "I think you are adaptable; but what sort of things do you require? Light, dark? Warmth, cold? Choose a place and I will see that it is prepared properly," he went on.

And then, rather abruptly--showing no signs of why he was asking (though Vargas could hardly be accused of having particularly emotive facial expressions): "Tell me, Eye of the Overseer: why do you mention that this one-" and here, he nodded at Imp "-is ignorant of the Masters, and the respect that they must be given?"

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

Garnet Five-Seven-Nine, as the Overseer attempted to work the venom out of his system, was set on carrying out its finest coping mechanism: justifying terrible actions and compartmentalization. Fate would have had it - regardless if it would be by the champion's guidance or directions - that Imp found himself in a chrysalis, awaiting a further trial by Master Nemean's wishes. While the chalks and art (the Eye found itself glancing at them for a moment) had been enjoyable, it never intended to find the gargoyle again nor do such a thing again. It never intended to. Not even for a second. Denial at its finest.

It swallowed, flinching as Vargas snarled at his twisted limb and grumbled about the hybrid's stinger.

This was necessary. This had been necessary; to bring back the old ways. To send a message rippling across the caves that they did not belong to these youngers and that rebellion would be crushed again.

Yet - the champion craned its neck towards Vargas, as it was addressed. Again, the praises felt lovely, a warmth washing over with the knowledge that it had done well and performed properly; and, again, heaviness sank. Weary and heavy. Wadded up and tossed into a box. The box shoved into its place atop dusty shelves in a dusky corner of its stream of conscious. "Kera's abode is well-decorated," it nodded, tacking on mentally and among the less dilapidated. "Plants are the most readily available, but," Garnet ground its beak, tail flicking (the first sign of deliberate movement from the Eye in a while,) "fish and insects are just as well."

"But, with due respect, Overseer Vargas - I would like to see more of the caves before I determine a place of residence," it trilled softly, slipping easily away from its previously panicked thoughts. Adaptability transcended physical reactions and survival skills, it seemed. With trauma haunting its memories, Garnet developed special methods of reacting quickly, internally, and sloughing whatever feeling off.

Working up the nerve to move after the commotion - internally and externally - Garnet fluttered up to perch atop the chatoyant chrysalis, somewhat closer to Vargas's eye-level and a little warmer than the cool, dead floor. "When I spoke to it - before leading it here - it spit empty words about Master Nemean being a betrayer. As if they had been spoken by another. Word spreads quickly and there are far more of these Youngers than those that know how things should be." It tucked its wings in, lying down. "It may prove difficult to track down every treacherous whispering - with only the Hand, Eye, and... Cat; then to otherwise punish them when they believe so strongly against the Masters with no other than word of mouth."

Now, this - felt comfortable. Familiar. Safe.

@Vargas

"Hrmph. Misunderstood words after a lovers' quarrel--so to speak. I do not mean that literally," Vargas grumbled. "But I take your meaning. The cat, too, spoke of making an impression. It is why this creature must be brought to heel: to prove our domination." He flexed one forelimb, grimacing as it wobbled weakly. The venom was wearing off, albeit a little at a time. "But as for rooting out every whisper--yes, it is possible. It is our task! It is why you are my Eye. But perhaps there is a better way," Vargas went on, eyeing Garnet. "I will ask Master Nemean, when she awakens, if it might be best to make an example of this one." Clawed limb waveringly gestured to the tiger's eye chrysalis. "If enough of these wretched little beasts are gathered into one place, and see firsthand a demonstration of our authority, and the consequences of rebellion--if it is decisive enough, I am sure that word of mouth will spread. A good idea, Five-Seven-Nine," he added, with a nod.

Dust spat as he rolled upright, pluming out from beneath him, and he lay there half-crouched, exhaling. He felt terribly weak and unsteady, though he could feel that it was passing, now. "Take your time in choosing a location, but inform me when you have. I will see what can be done to liven it up, a little. What of a name, then; have you chosen one?"

Rows of acidic eyes lifted to stare at Garnet.

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

The conflict between Masters Nemean and Aquarian could be addressed later - Garnet was vaguely certain their relationship had been strictly professional, leading rebels to their deaths, quick disposals, and whatnot. At hand, Vargas was gleaning a meaning from his Eye's rather roundabout point. He took it as a suggestion to make a spectacle, for all the Caves to see, to prove that the proper way had not died with time. It was only inevitable that all rebels would be crushed. Stunning to silence was a common method, but not entirely the one Garnet had been attempting to suggest.

But, it was too late to not take credit for it. By then, it should have already compartmentalized and again adjusted to life without companionship in these youngers. It would see about that, anyways. Drawing a paw over its ear, preening slightly with the praise (and to keep itself busy,) Garnet chirped, "a display would most certainly draw attention, anyways." Of a positive or negative sort, one would have to find out. Scare tactics had an inconsistent chance for success and failure.

Its claw scraped lightly against the chrysalis beneath it. "I will," the garnet responded promptly, though it already suspected where its preferences lay. A place warm, somewhat dry, with a hint of familiarity and sand. Not quite Hydra, but close. Close enough to home.

At the second question, it hesitated. Ruby-red eyes darted side to side, ears flicking. "I've thought of a few, but have yet to make a decision," it chirped, running over the sound of them in its mind, "Hemlocke - or Monkshood." Both very poisonous plants. "I've found it difficult to settle on one, or even think of options." It could go down the route of the Overseer's cat, but naming yourself after physical characteristics seemed redundant.

@Vargas

A flex, another twist of limbs, a grunt as he came fully-upright. He shook himself, and all his myriad quills rattled softly. He could move, again, at least.

"Choose what you wish. Either would be suitable." Vargas focused, and a brief flood of low-grade magicka hurtled through him, like cold fire. Much of the weakness of his limbs faded.

Vargas looked to Garnet. "Let me know when you choose one, hm? And let me know when you find that dragon. I suspect it will be more difficult to take down. I do not suggest engaging that one yourself," he added. Then--glancing curiously back at the Tiger's Eye--he asked, "How did you get this one to come of its own accord?"

@Garnet Five-Seven-Nine

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