ORIGIN - there goes hawaii

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Backdated to before YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM

Alpha was antsy and trying desperately to keep itself busy, as per usual. Now, what that entailed was a variety of things; chief among them, right now, was searching for Lessers to give to Doctor. That was current official orders, and the monstrous child'd gone out of its way to be a little overachiever (as usual.) It'd presented several tunnel runners to the rather eager vulture, all temporarily paralyzed through magically-produced venom (see, Alpha takes notes from what you say, Vargas.)

After the first three or so deer, though, Alpha figured that was enough for now and set itself on other tasks. Those were taking phat naps and finagling with magic some more.

So, there's the stage set for its current antics: the orthoclase waited precisely until the orbs had dimmed a little for the sleep cycles, yawning awake and scuffling quietly out of the warren (by, of course, shaking off no less than five other initiates and small creatures.) It immediately turned off towards the far end of the tunnel. Alpha didn't move too far, though - just enough to get centered from either side.

Quills click!ed and clack!ed against one another as it lowered its head and shook them out. One meaty claw dug at the earth, squaring off. Alpha rocked back slightly, as if preparing to pounce. Its acid-glow grew brighter for a moment, gearing up for this new nightly ritual: a full sprint down the corridor and a loping walk back, purely for the purpose of growing sleepy again and maybe building up endurance for longer, faster runs.

Except, this time - it had a little boost of magicka.

It jolted forwards, giving a soft screek! as the tunnel's winds seemed to catch under its limbs. Alpha tried to go stiff-legged, but it was almost as if the wind guided its steps. Already large strides turned into nearly bounding leaps as it careened down the hall's length, tongue lolling out and breath coming in hot, vaporous puffs. It pushed and pushed right until Canis's entrance came into view; at which point, it dropped its bottom half and dug thick talons into the stone.

Alpha just barely dismissed all of the momentum it had, jerking forwards a little - rather than the usual chin-smacking jolt of stopping suddenly when the body wanted to keep moving. It remained in that exact place and pose, exoskeletal sides heaving with each breath full of subdued exhilaration. Any chase could be made shorter with that.

@Vargas

He rounded the entrance from Canis just in time to see Alpha careening his way--and though there was too great a distance for any collision, he still paused and stared bemusedly down as it came to a very sudden halt, panting. The sound of clattering quills and claws on rock continued to echo for a beat, the background wind howling through the tunnel providing a strange backdrop for it.

"Orthoclase-Alpha," Vargas stated, staring at it. He looked around, behind himself, and then back at the child. Had he paid more attention, he might have noticed the creature doing this every so often--training, in fact--but Vargas had mostly left their raising, bar the occasional useful lesson, to the Sentinels.

Seeing nothing fleeing, and nothing caught, he turned a quizzical gaze back on the Orthoclase.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Alpha's tongue lolled out, acidic-green drool slopping off in droves from it and between its altogether too-many teeth. It hung its head, continuing to pant and breathe heavily - right up until its name was called. That bassy boom drew its posture straight (even though the motion stifled its clear attempts at getting that sweet oh-two.)

Right there, of course, was the Overseer, looking fairly confused on his part. Alpha's head swung to and fro despite it not being sure what either of them were looking for. A stray rebel, maybe? Not a trace.

"What are you doing?"

"Running," it stated plainly, not entirely intending to be Captain Obvious. The orthoclase settled a little further back on its haunches, quills rattling, "I'm using magic to run faster. Good for - hunting, maybe? I could end a chase faster." Alpha craned its neck to stare up at Vargas, standing and plodding forwards a few steps. "It's something to do before I go back to sleep." Too much talk, not asked for.

So, it summarized: "just training by myself."

@Vargas

Vargas listened, vaguely impatient, but the child--a child no longer, really--cut itself off.

"Training?" the overseer interjected, and then grunted when the hybrid confirmed it.

He studied it, for a moment. How long had it been since last they'd trained-? It had the build, the strength; it was proving at least a little more graceful than he'd feared. He'd have to hone it, or its design would go to waste. "We will train," he decided. "You decide: a spar, or a hunt?"

Vargas' version of hide-and-seek was not the kindest, but it worked. Straight-up fighting, however, was also vastly important for Alpha to learn. To be a front-line shock soldier, as he gauged its best use to be, it would need to actually use that strength, that weight, those natural armaments it held.

And Vargas, of course, could teach it.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

The orthoclase seemed to perk up at the idea of not training by itself in the middle of the night. It gave its jaws one last swipe of the tongue before standing, quills rattling up in muted excitement and preparation to do something. Acidic green eyes narrowed (the best way it could really furrow a brow in consideration, really) as it mulled over the options.

Alpha came to a decision fairly quickly - mostly because hunts were primarily why it was so bored and finding itself having to run for fun. Sparring with something bigger than it would be infinitely more enlightening.

So, it proclaimed: "I'd like to spar - fight!"

Already preparing, it trundled off a few feet and squared up. Quills clicking against one another with ill-concealed enthusiasm, it watched and listened attentively for... well, whatever first move the Overseer would make.

@Vargas

The Overseer watched, half-eager (he loved a good battle--and he hoped the child, such as it was, could provide) and half-curious. He had trained it, some, certainly; but what had it learned..?

When it squared off, he waited only a beat--when it seemed ready, he dashed in. But Vargas did not aim to connect--not yet; he intended first to test Alpha's agility, its reflexes, reactions. The Overseer dashed in and then swivelled, leaping back again from Alpha's side (or where it would be before the 'child' moved, at least). Long limbs and startling agility were Vargas' hallmark--not just size, but vast speed. It would look, at first, as though he were lunging in at Alpha's side for an attack--yet he would land a yard or two away before leaping back and away again.

Would the child try to snag him, when he was oh-so-briefly close? Would it, perhaps, even succeed? Would it flounder, clumsy and slow to respond, or would it be slow to move to begin with?

Vargas wanted to know what he was working with--not only against; but what he held in his clawed hands to shape, to mold, into a form that he saw best.

Round: 1/5
Attempt: Feint, possibly draw Alpha out, or just test its agility
Defense: n/a
Injuries: n/a

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Vargas came at it quickly (why shouldn't he!) and the orthoclase responded immediately by recoiling back, bracing for an impact that'd never come. It tucked its head into its quills, the tips flopping up past its face as the skin of its neck rolled. When he bounced back, feinting, Alpha belatedly picked up what he was putting down. A test.

When the purple behemoth made his second approach, Alpha attempted to recoil in the opposite direction: springing forwards with (hopefully) enough agility to snag its teeth around the Overseer's forearm. It didn't want to bite down too hard, but just enough to maintain a firm grip. Perhaps that holding back was obvious. If it didn't flounder pitifully, it'd drop its weight down onto its lower half - a bit like a terrier with a rope toy.

Of course... it snapped down on empty air and stumbled forwards, having drastically miscalculated the time. Precious few seconds were lost as it tried to shake it off and brace for any retribution.

Round: 1/5
Attempt: Grab a forearm.
Defense: n/a
Injuries: n/a

@Vargas

Vargas circled, his size quick with an agility that should not have been, limbs all fluid grace and tail sweeping along in an arc behind him. His head was raised, not prowling low, as he kept a decent distance, grinning absently as he watched the creation.

It was strong, he could see that in its movements: but slow, as yet. Its grab for him came nowhere near. Still, it was perfect for front-line work; he himself was but a hunter, a stalker in the dark, a climber-on-the-walls and a reaver, an assassin. This beast, when fully-grown, could plow through its enemies, and nothing they could do would stop it. He was proud, abruptly, of its creation. This, this first of all among all the beasts of this wretched, failing nest, was worthy.

He would see that it was trained; that it remained that way.

His estimation of it now higher, Vargas decided to teach it a little of the uses of brute force. The Orthoclase would need to learn--through physical experience--where its strengths and weaknesses lay. He suspected it would do best in facing him, unmoving; it would then be up to him to force it aside, and what few beasts would be able to budge it, once it was fully-grown? It was still not quite its full size, but it was large enough.

The Overseer, abruptly, dashed in from his circling, that speed on full display. He aimed to make contact with it--a shoulder-slam, his weight behind it, though somewhat held back; enough, should he impact the Orthoclase, to stagger it backward heavily.

Not enough to bowl it over--he simply wanted to test it, again. To test its defenses. To teach it what to do... what not to do.

To find out what worked.

Round: 2/5
Attempt: Vargas used Body Slam!
Defense: n/a
Injuries: n/a

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Alpha watched as its Overseer began to circle it, trying and failing for a few moments to shuffle on the spot. It wanted to keep facing Vargas - as he'd predicted - because that was, of course, where most of the pointy bits were. Glowing-bright eyes narrowed as it realized it couldn't feasibly keep up. Adjusting, it instead tried to twist its neck around and track where he was.

Maybe if I - and it started to step backward while the purple behemoth was in front of it.

It hadn't been quick enough, though - that same big mass started to hurtle towards it. Alpha's immediate reaction was to swing in that direction, all snapping teeth and brute force. Following that impulsive movement, it noted again that Vargas was far too fast for it. It wouldn't get a bite in while he was still approaching.

Well... it could try to take the hit, right?

The orthoclase spread out its limbs, curling its claws into the dirt. When the inevitable impact came, it leaned away from the sheer force of it - both unintentionally and intentionally - and tried to keep its feet planted on the ground. In any real battle, no matter how armored it was, it'd be dead knocked onto its back. Alpha was well-aware of how much trouble it had getting off of its back.

In a horrific twist of fate, it overcompensated and sent itself stumbling ass-first onto its side. Clearly, it was unused to picking on someone its own size. With a series of annoyed grunts, it tried to scramble onto its stomach and get back up again - but that was a matter of having enough time to get enough footing.

Round: 2/5
Attempt: Tank that shit!
Defense: Squaring off, rolling with the punches, and being a very large, dense crab
Injuries: Probably some cracked exoskeleton and extremely wounded pride

@Vargas

...and down his estimation went. That pride in his creation, the idea that it was at least a little redeeming in the face of this nest's ruin, fell down through the floor to depths so deep Vargas wasn't sure he'd ever see it again. He watched, fighting back a grimace, as Alpha flailed on the floor.

My initial estimation was right, he realized, grimly--thinking back to Alpha's hatching. It's too damn front-heavy. Too slow, too clumsy. He still wasn't sure how much of that might be youth--young things seemed gangly and unsteady--but he thought that this one was near fully-grown.

He grunted and set himself back to circling, for a beat, and then--giving Alpha little time to recover--leapt in with a couple downward swings of his arms. They were long--and his fists, though small, were given a great deal of momentum with the sheer length of them. It was meant to be a short beating, a punishment for the failure, and above all a motivation not to fail again.

His intention was to move in, brutish, and slam a few powerful fists against that carapace before Alpha could push fully upright--and then away; quick slams, punches.

He said nothing--not yet; Alpha's reaction to failure would be as important as the failure itself. Would it have some clever way of saving this mistake, or was it going to continue to flail around-? Vargas intended to find out.

Round: 3/5
Attempt: A short beat-down
Defense: n/a
Injuries: n/a

@Orthoclase-Alpha

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