ORIGIN - Testing, One, Two...

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slightly backdated thread

Nemean had been knocked into her chrysalis a few days prior. He'd come back here--a double-check on the denizens of Cetus--half to insist to himself that he was still doing his duty, and half to distract himself from the worries of what was going on. The Masters, fighting amongst themselves-... The caves, in utter disarray.

The children of Aquarian here seemed to be little threat, but he'd resolved to check on their numbers, periodically--to seek them in the dark and mist, and to watch what it was that they did. They claimed, or at least Dragon claimed, simply to feed Aquarian in return for his tolerating their presence, here. And, for the most part, Vargas believed that. He didn't think they were skulking around the swamp, somehow using mud to plan high treason. But what concerned Cetus concerned Nemean, as far as Vargas was... well, concerned; and he wanted a full report for the sprite upon her awakening

He cast his magic out, seeking Dragon, or the creature Hunger--anything long, low, and reptilian. Well-... he found something; there was something. It seemed larger-? But he could not be sure. Quietly he turned, changing his direction to angle through the reeds, heading toward what he didn't know was Phlegethon.

@Phlegethon

As was tradition, Phlegethon skulked about in the mud and grime. It was a rather common place to be, as a rot-child. Sometimes, it waited for unsuspecting prey to arrive; other times, it simply slept. Either way, it's gem-eye was constantly open, sensing only shifts in light and dark. Seeing as only mist swam above it, there wasn't much change.

The crawling of footsteps, heavy breaths, though - that was different.

Slowly, almost tentatively, the creature's head slipped beneath the water's surface, its massive, dark shadow approaching the shallower waters. Shifting light above came, but only from the gentle waves. The thrum of another footstep, heavy but careful, set hunting instincts off. Phlegethon tucked its neck into its body, bulk coiling to spring. With a mere moment's hesitation, the immense slime-beast's head and upper half shot out of the water.

Glimmering eye catching the sight of something purple and immense, it let itself drop far too short with a soft, vibrating waaa! After a single glance, it concluded, "you are too big." Much like someone else had. "What are you?" This being was like nothing it had seen before, large and heavily-armored with acidic-green eyes and fluorescent quills. If it was a hunter, Phlegethon did not want to be about when it struck.

As if on cue, it began to wiggle, flukes pressing against the sand to return to its murky home.
@Vargas

Vargas had intended to approach well-hidden, but it seemed that this creature had sensed his coming, in turn. Which was perfectly fair, really; he had no monopoly on sensing others. Well, no matter; it isn't the one I seek.

Vargas paused where he was, a few yards back, and eyed this one over. It was by far the largest of those he'd seen--he thought, though he could not be sure, that this one was larger still than Hunger. It bore, however, a distinct resemblance: inky oily black sludge, a red eye, a long and somewhat-serpentine body. For a moment, Vargas paused--and then came to an uncertain realization, as he looked this over. That coating-... that oil. These are not of the new generation. -Are they? Are they one of His? he wondered.

'You are too big.'

Vargas scowled, as best his rigid face would allow. "Why do you creatures keep insisting that?" he asked, but it was not demeaning. If this was a deliberate creation, then it demanded some respect--more than the beasts born of random happenstance, these days. He stepped aside, giving it space to indicate that it didn't have to wriggle away back into the swamp, and spoke. "I am Overseer Vargas. What is your designation?" It was asked with growing curiosity. Would his title, or the request, garner a response beyond the now-expected "hey what's an Overseer" and "my name is 'insert something not-a-number here'"?

Hunger had had no number, but was clearly of the same brand of creation. Had Aquarian done this, while the rest slept..? Could it be? What if there is a whole mass of them--could he have picked up where the rest left off?--but I didn't sense that many here.

@Phlegethon

Phlegethon's eye roved slightly in its socket, before its entire head bobbed and weaved to inspect the large creature. It was intriguing, at least - but the sheer size still warranted caution. Distantly, it also considered the safety of the other Rot-Children. Were it taken down by this behemoth, it was sure that the rest could fall. Then, who would be around to feed Father Aquarian (if he was even real?)

Its bulk slid back into the murky water, sullying it further with oily-iridescent slime. "You are big," it hummed plainly, "too big to hunt." The pitch-black creature's skin rolled, curious at the next turn of phrase. Overseer - before the name, like a rank. Perhaps, this being had come from another group, to establish relations with the Children of Rot. This may have been a job better-reserved for one of the Maw, but here Phlegethon already was.

Learning a little more couldn't hurt. "I am Phlegethon," it stated in a low-bass hum, still observing from the comfort of its watery home, "I am a Rot-Child. What group do you come from?"
@Vargas

Too big to hunt.

Realization clicked abruptly into place. "That is your task-? You were placed here to hunt?"

This explains a great deal. Aquarian must have--for whatever reason--created Dragon and these others beasts to aid him in his task. Lazy? -Perhaps bored? It did not matter, much, in truth. They served his task; this was why, then, he tolerated them here. If he has had a break with Nemean, I ought to watch my step, he warned himself. Though, not with this beast--with Aquarian himself.

He focused again on Phlegethon before him. "I come from no--'group.' I serve the Masters--as, I suspect, do you."

"You are large. You bear the markings of the old creatures; how long have you been hunting here? Who created you?" It was almost amiably-asked; Vargas wasn't demanding. He was, however, intensely curious. Who had made it--and what was it capable of..?

@Phlegethon

Well - it hunted, that's for certain.

"I hunt for myself," it hummed, "and Father Aquarian." Phlegethon peered about for a second, before indicating in the direction of the rot-pile. "All of the rot-children do." For protection, if it came to it - allegedly. Again, the creature wasn't entirely confident in the serpent's existence. All the time spent underwater, and it still had yet to come face-to-face. Hunting for him, at least, gave some semblance of routine and purpose to Phlegethon's life.

This Vargas, though, hailed from no group, no place with a common goal. Only service to something called the Masters. That sounded an awful lot like a gathering of Gembound, but Phlegethon left that unsaid. "I serve Aquarian," it supplied, regardless. The Overseer may as well be on the money.

Humming, the vibrations stirring circular patterns into the water, it finally closed its jaw. Large certainly fit its description, though it wasn't terribly certain about any 'old creatures.' "I do not know how long," the creature admitted. It never bothered to count the cycles since its birth, and thus had forgotten the concept of time entirely - what with spending most of its time sleeping, and the smaller part more actively hunting. "I was created by another like me. She could walk on her limbs and fly. We share our eye."

Considering, it raised its flukes out of the water, slime bubbling and cascading down their edges. "Our skin, too. It is like what comes from the Lessers, when they rot and decay and return to the reeds."
@Vargas

Vargas was surprised. He wasn't sure if he was pleased. Maybe..? It depended on how far Aquarian had fallen from Nemean's--graces? Friendship? -and on how long ago this thing was made.

In any case, it did not seem hostile, and the Overseer found himself instantly curious as to this one's uses.

"If you belong to Aquarian then I will not provide commands," he began--the old beast certainly outranked him--"but I am curious, how do you fight? I would spar with you, if you accept! A scuffle, no true harm to either of us," he added, remembering all too well how too-far the dragon in Monoceros had nearly taken things. "As Overseer it is my duty to know the creatures within the caves, and their abilities. I would test yours!" he proclaimed.

He had no reward to offer--not for a creation of Aquarian--but he hoped that it would merely fight, for fighting's sake. It seemed, as him, to be an ambush predator; but without either of them ambushing, it put them on even footing, didn't it?

@Phlegethon

Phlegethon tilted its head slightly. It wouldn't say that it belonged to Aquarian specifically, but Vargas was already proceeding. Perhaps it did - in a metaphorical sense. There was a sense of duty to feeding the serpent since Nemean (another creature it had yet to bear witness to) betrayed him.

The slimy beast set its flukes back in the water, contemplating with churning skin. "I have yet to find a reason to fight," it began - most of its hunts were over quickly and there was little in these caves that could contest it - "but, perhaps." Phlegethon opened its jaw again, head bobbing to meet Vargas's gaze. "We may spar, scuffle, fight."

Unsure of how to proceed, though, it simply remained where it lay, half-submerged in the water. All it really did to prepare was draw in its neck a little, open its jaw a little wider. Seeing. Waiting.
@Vargas

Vargas nodded once, and stepped back.

"Let us spar, then! And test one another." He always enjoyed this--fighting--but as he turned and began to circle, he found that Phlegethon wasn't doing... anything.

A defensive fighter, then, along with an ambush hunter, he took note, entirely unaware that Phlegethon simply didn't know how to... fight.

He tensed himself and then simply leapt in, springing sideways, six-clawed forelimbs reaching to snare a hold behind the oily whale-beast's head along his neck, weight throwing itself full for Phlegethon's torso. He had no idea if his own bulk would be enough to hold the creature down--it depended upon how muscular it was, how much grip it could gather against the muck, how slippery its oil. But Vargas was here to test all that--and test he did.

Round: 1/5
Attempt: Jump onto/grab Phlegethon
Defense: Some Quills?
Injuries: None

@Phlegethon

Of all things to be unprepared for, Phlegethon was not for the sudden pressure of fourteen feet of purple muscle. Its torso squished audibly beneath the Overseer, a feeling the creature likened to the sensation of a cave rat's ribcage compressing to fit into a smaller space - or, itself doing that exact thing. In its surprise, its slimy skin formed soft points with another waa!

The slime-beast writhed beneath Vargas, neck snaking out to its full length and head turning nearly 180 degrees. Peering through its top-eye, Phlegethon tried to gauge the least pointy part of the Overseer's body - the side of the neck, perhaps?. It tightened its jaw and reeled its head away. In a sharp motion, the creature wheeled its head about, aiming for a full neck-and-head smack.
Round: 1/5
Attempt: Smack Vargas with its neck/head?
Defense: ? Little Spikes?
Injuries: Some squished bones

@Vargas

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