ORIGIN

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In he went again, calling out in a bellow, no subtlety to it, no politeness. It was perfunctory roaring: a duty, an indifferent assumption that they would come and obey as they always did.

"HEMLOCKE. Desert Rose. Come, if you are here; and bring the whelps. Selenite-Gamma, and Garnet-Delta. Epsilon, if you have it."

Obviously, there was more business to attend to--and if Desert Rose hadn't left, Vargas wanted him in. And this business was a little less severe than that of the dragons. It was still business, certainly. And it would reflect on him. But a catastrophic failure wouldn't mean that they all died, at least.

He paced deeper into Tunnel P, heading for the warren, expecting whoever was present to be assembled.

@Hemlocke @Selenite-Gamma (and Desert Rose, if you want!) @Garnet-Delta

Hemlocke'd been settling quite comfortably into this routine: training here, babysitting there. Desert Rose's return from a frozen-over Hydra, no worse for wear and later reassigned an infiltration task, had done little to change that. If anything, it'd relaxed more. It was easy to not think much about the moral ramifications of child soldiers and indoctrination - or how easy it would be to simply flee the scene and never return to its life of servitude - when there was nothing out of the ordinary.

The Overseer's summons did little to change it's attitude. If anything, it seemed eager as it twittered a quick coming! response and fluttered from its alcove higher up in the Warren. Hemlocke had to admit it hadn't seen the last of the bunch in a while, but called for it regardless. "Gamma, Delta, Epsilon," it barked into the Initiates's self-made hole, "your Overseer demands our presence!"

If they were smart, they'd tag along.

It didn't wait for them to all come out single-file, instead meandering towards the exit of the Warren and fluttering to meet Vargas from the top of a rock some three feet tall. The tiny alien gave him a deep bow of the head, a brief "Overseer Vargas, sir," and finally... silence. Hemlocke settled down and pressed its wings somewhat flush to its sides.

Garnet - Epsilon

The tan and black piebald abomination comes streaking out from a different crack in the rocks, this one littered with shattered glass from their recent attempts at.... something. Epsilon had heard the original summons from The Overseer, but the extra shrill reminder from their gem-giver causes them to open their wings and fly after them, instead of sprinting like they had originally planned.

They're their best to get there first, or well first from the siblings at least. It wouldn't do good to show up their superior, and they pull back and touch down below Hemlock, opening their wings and bowing low, their own version of a gesture of respect to Vargas.

Deep bow held for a few seconds, then completed with a shuffle of wings and a curious peek to see if they'd be told to rise or... something of that nature, they settle instead into an attentive stance, perched on their haunches. One ear is turned to Vargas, as well as the rest of their face, but the other is turned behind to listen for their siblings.

Garnet-Delta had heard Vargas's call; it did not need Hemlocke to tell it twice. Its tail twitched, and it flexed its claws into the soft ground, a low growl rippling out from its yawning mouth. It had been practicing to impress both its Life Giver and the Overseer, but the more difficult magic was still touchy to summon.

Never in half-measures, the young upstart committed.

Its body shifted from its napping spot, and it pulled magic from the gem on its throat. The red garnet flashed crimson for a moment, and then its skin rippled, light shifting to dance around its form. There was the faintest shimmer to give away its presence: a distortion of light, faint disturbances in the dust under paw.

The hybrid prowled out slowly, being careful to avoid bumping into its littermates. It took a lot of concentration to even keep up the spell as it came to sit in front of Vargas, casting a side-glance toward Epsilon who had arrived first.

Of course, with it being practically invisible, who was to say that it wasn't here all along? Delta's tail curled neatly around its paws, tucking its wings in, and let the spell drop. Its black face appeared first, red eyes flashing up to stare at Overseer Vargas with keen intent, and then the rest of its body flickered into view.

Politely, the young spawn dipped its head in greeting and reverence to the Overseer. Excitement prickled silently across its pelt, as its ears swiveled back toward the warren. Was Gamma coming, or not?

Desert Rose had certainly not set off left, faffing about with plans and useless fallacies in case the dragons ended up questioning him a bit too closely. Plus, he had the chance to look closely into the childrens’ activities- were they even children, anymore? He’d been informed that they finished growing at the very least.

Still. They didn’t seem old enough to be considered adults.

At the call, Desert froze before stalking forward, preparing to answer straight away. Delta and Epsilon passed by quickly, and his head turned to the drake when the second call came out. A rumble ran through his body as he diverted his path to its sleeping form.

”Get up.” He bent over to the grumbling child, head tilting this way and that before pressing a claw against its back. ”You’re to report to the Overseer.” His eyes narrowed down to the whelp as his scales lifted with urgency.

The selenite’s head shot up when Desert’s claws touched it. It’d been idle, again, resting in the divot its Alpha typically took up- it wasn’t like it’d grow to fill its metaphorical shoes, though. In fact, it erred on the end of looking like a genuine sack of shit, just feeding itself and hunting when it needed to. But, when informed about the call (and in the face of the desert rose’s teeth), it only grinned with the opportunity to finally show itself to the others.

The laziness was borne from the self-imposed need to be available at all times. And here it was- its stone-giver was hot on its heels, but it paid no mind to the now practically same-sized being directly behind it. ”Overseer!” Its voice, while adult, still held a layer of squeakiness, still kept its child-like tone in each word.

Alas, despite its excited quiverings, it was last to meet. Internal beratings began as it told itself off for being so lazy that it needed to sleep. Well, had the Overseer ever slept? No, stop thinking- it was stalling. Tail swaying with unease, Gamma dipped its head down in a bow, mirrored by a dip in the desert rose’s own behind it.

Man, could that dragon ever give it a break? Any time it was around it seemed to be staring at it- it was ready and here! What more could he ask of it?

@Vargas

Vargas paced deep enough for the heat of Hydra to sweep past, the winds buffeting him so hard he staggered to one side. Sand blasted his face and he turned, curling around himself to face back the other way, back toward Canis. He sat, then, Hydra at his back, and waited. They were there, responding, and quickly, and he looked them over one by one.

Hemlocke: obedient and reliable, meek but cunning.
Garnet-Epsilon: taking after its stone-giver, so far, physically at least. Attentive and respectful. Good.
Garnet-Delta, surprising him with its skillful hold over its magic, and pleasing him twofold: first that it was doing well and second, that ego-stroking arrogance that reassured Vargas that he'd been right in judging this one worthy early on.
Desert Rose was here, but Vargas did not linger on him; he'd been meeting with him frequently enough as it was. Desert had his own tasks ahead. Ahh, but here was Selenite-Gamma. Respectful, at least, but the Overseer's gaze lingered longer than was strictly necessary as he looked this one over. It had gained a little muscle, at least, some athleticism but not much. It seemed it had lived more sedentary than anything else. Hrmph.

Vargas shifted his eyes, looking over the group as a whole before launching into his little speech.

"I warned you all briefly before," he began, and were his voice not steady it might have seemed ominous, as a beginning, "that we must be at our best, now. If we show weakness, we will be culled. We have several things that need dealing with, all at once. Desert Rose Thirty-Five will be sent among the dragons in Monoceros. None of you are to visit that cave and if any of you speak of him, it will be as one who has left us. He is infiltrating."

A pause, a solemn glare over each of them to ensure this was understood. "Say you don't know specifics, if you're asked, only that he left. Next. You are all adults, now. Thus Hemlocke, who has no current assignment, will be partially in charge of your training, which comes now. You are all of suitable build for scouts, messengers, or spies--infiltrators, as Desert Rose is about to flex his wings at; I'm going to let you choose what to do. But!" and here he lifted a forefoot in a short, sharp motion, slamming it back down in a puff of dusty sand, for emphasis, "I'll be asking Hemlocke's opinion on your abilities, and I want you to listen to it when you make your decision."

Another pause. Acid eyes trailed over them. And stopped, again, lingering on the children of Palefur.

"The cat Palefur failed the Trial of Hydra. She is dead. You'll need to prove yourselves twice as well to earn survival. You'll all take your option of training, and then be given a test and if you fail that test, you will be given to the Doctor so that your lives won't go to utter waste. Are we clear?"

Yet another long pause, a waiting for assent, and then he continued. "We need to get this nest back into some form of decent working order. That means restraining the dragons, first and foremost. Second, it means finding creatures whose designs are worth continuing. The tasks I offer you are threefold, and you may choose which to take for your training, or take on more than one. First: to join with another group, to infiltrate--to spy. This has no real goal, except your training! You will create a lie, a story, and join with them, find out everything about them. Knowledge of any kind is never a waste, no matter how little it may seem we need it now. Second, you can simply search the cave and scout for those worth reproduction. Find out everything you can about those potential stones, their abilities, strengths, weaknesses; gauge how you think they might be useful. Find ten, fifteen, with potential and bring that knowledge back to me. Or third, you can be our messenger. That means going throughout the caves and asking who is willing to meet with us here for potential benefits in return for giving their stones for the furthering of their designs, should we need them. That offer can be made to any or all. A strong enough creature might be spared the Trials, when the time comes, and if we use their design it can be promised that it will be given the best chance of success. So I ask you which you each choose--and you can each take more than one, or all choose the same, I don't care. We have enough to do to spread between you all anyway. But you can be spy, scout or messenger... unless any of you want to train for something else," the Overseer finished, with a faintly dark edge to these last two words.

He doubted any of them would want to train to be assassins, but if they did, he'd be happy to teach them personally.

@Hemlocke @Selenite-Gamma (and Desert!) @Garnet-Delta @Garnet-Epsilon

Ah - there's Epsilon, right on its tail. Hemlocke offered it a pleased nod as it fluttered after its stone-giver, and another at the deep bow.

Fluttering wings and settling paws. The garnet's ears tilted around for a moment, senses telling it there should be someone next to the pied Initiate. Instead, there was empty space. Ruby-red eyes stared at the spot for a few moments longer, watching as Delta seemed to materialize from nothing. Prime stealth magics, then... completely self-taught, from the looks of it. Very impressive. Then, Gamma - looking surprisingly well-groomed for having been conked out in the divot Alpha'd worn into the floor.

Hemlocke glanced sidelong at Desert as his mentioning (dancing around the apprehension of being culled for showing weakness.) He'd already informed it of his assignment, left it as acting commander while he was gone. It'd just given him a pleasant smile and half-formed good for you! Some time in the field might give him a thicker skin. (It worried a little, though, about what might go through the selenite's head as he delved into the lives of these dragons.) It gave a nod of understanding to Vargas.

Looking over the children as they were formally assigned to it's teachings, the garnet was already thinking about forays into Hydra and across the caves. Ventures into stealth and being quick on one's feet. Dealing with the desert at night might remove the problem of Eyehooks, and drive sand worms into a state of uneasy dormancy - but what of the near-freezing air? The sand beneath their feet. Seeking shelter and beating the lights in turning back on and the blistering heat reappearing -

Thinking too much about what wasn't even yet decided.

Its Overseer spoke, laying out what his tasks would entail, the (rare few!) choices offered to the Initiates for their potential role in reinstating business as usual in the nest. Spies, scouts, messengers. Similar, but so different - and requiring different skills from each of them.

Hemlocke waited politely, obediently while Vargas finished his speech, rocking up on its feet and briefly searching for permission that'd already been indirectly given. Fluttering down in front of the initiates, it did some quick mental review as it looked each one over.

"Gamma" - the numeric first without Vargas's spawn - "I've watched you provoke Orthoclase-Alpha numerous times and escape from its clutches even when grabbed. Practice your magic, perhaps, and you might make a good messenger - quick on your feet and difficult to catch."

A glance to the Overseer, and it paced down the line to "Delta, your magic is... very well-executed, even without formal training. I could see you canvassing for powerful creatures, or perhaps acting as a more aggressive messenger and defending yourself."

And finally - "Epsilon, your silence gives an air of quiet thought and a conniving nature. That intelligence and wit would lend well to a role as an infiltrator - practice your magic and you might even fit as a turncoat." To get a target alone and decimate them with a well-time spell.

That advising session done, the tiny alien glanced back to Vargas, and fluttered back to its stone spike. The decision was ultimately theirs to make. It was merely dispensing what it knew of them, and giving pointers as to where to go. If all of them decided to take all paths offered, so be it. Hemlocke was adaptable, and so would its training.

@Garnet-Epsilon

Garnet - Epsilon

The news of Palefurs demise at fist doesn't hit quite home- all it gets from the piebald is a glance at the most feline of their siblings.
The mention of the Doctor gets a similar glance in the direction that one could assume the Gembound was in - but no facial reaction.

Epsilon hums, a rare vocalization for the beaked hybrid, and they weigh their options-

On one paw, to find others better than Palefur had been would be interesting, and let them gather the information they'd like on their little... gathering of beings.
On the other, the idea of finding other beings to simply trick seemed... risky. Rather wasteful of time that could be well spent actually growing the Sentinels.
More Gembound is better, right? Especially with the Dragons, whatever they may be, being enough to warrant a mention from Overseer Vargas, and assignment of their lifegiver.

They turn attentively to listen to Hemlocke as their parent paces down the line, and some of their fur and scales raise at the mention of their silence, and the recommendation that they'd better suit the very job they hadn't considered. Maybe that's why they're still a child, and in a fit of nerves they compress the sand and stone under their forepaws with a small shift in stature. They now gaze at their blue tinted paws, and they think about what their other parent had been sent to do.

Maybe this would be a step in the right direction.

They clear their throat, and open their beak.

"Overseer Vargas, Hemlock, they croak, voice reedy from disuse but confident in its words, "I am here for a purpose. If you both agree that I suit as an Infiltrator, I will take that role and train with all of my ability."

@Garnet-Delta
@Desert Rose Thirty-Five

Garnet-Delta's ears twitched, angling toward Hydra's hot winds and flicking. It had known that Palefur had not returned. It rejected the notion that meant it was doomed as well. The eyes of the others settled hotly upon it. If they wanted to underestimate it now, so be it. Palefur had been an outsider, not created nor bred for the purpose that they all served. It... It held its head high, unflinching, at the cold reality it faced.

Training, testing, and failure that could not come to pass. The mention of dragons made its hackles prickle, half-rising; and then settled with bewilderment at the mention of finding design fodder. Palefur had been design fodder-- if Delta could be successful, so to could properly raised offspring of other outsiders. The thought was uncomfortable, but clinical. It nodded, oversize ears angling in to focus on the choices presented to it.

... Spying was, as presented, simple enough, but something about it rubbed their fur the wrong way. Unpleasant.

Scouting, again, seemed easy... Almost a boring choice.

Being a messenger, spreading the challenging ideals of their group, and instilling fear and respect in the unruly caves? Perhaps on the surface, it seemed as basic as the others, but there would be those that didn't...

Ah, Hemlocke was speaking, now. The alien-cat blinked toward its Stone-Giver as the Garnet took place before them. Gamma's suggestion was given first, to which Delta's crimson eyes slowly blinked, waiting with muscles tensed for a fight that did not exist. It felt adrenaline racing through its blood as Hemlocke came before it, and gived it a short praise.

Canvassing. Aggressive messenger. Acknowledging the advice, it bowed its head, eyes glinting at the opportunity.

... Yes.

Epsilon's advice came next, and the brood of Hemlocke and Desert Rose responded before the others, addressing the Overseer with a creaky voice.

It waited for its hatchmate to finish, and then it pushed itself to its feet, keeping its wings tucked neatly at its side as it spoke with earnest direct words.

"Overseer Vargas," it spoke cleanly, "I would serve proudly as a Messenger." Its claws dug into the stone under sandy foot, raising its voice with determination. "If I may be bold, I ask to train in dealing with those that go beyond simply refusing and actually try to undermine us, as well." It stared up at the Overseer, knowing it might be seen as small and seemingly ill-suited toward such a task. "Individuals that could cause more trouble than they are worth in the long term."

But all too truthfully, how the little Delta had always looked up to Vargas's imposing figure, his hulking frame, his hunter's stance. It bothered Delta that it would never be quite so impressive; but magic and surprise could make up the difference. It wanted to go beyond simply puppeting words of its Masters; it wanted to be persuasive, and when that failed, domineering. It wanted to be useful in a way that could not be so easily replaced.

Perhaps that was a step too far. Perhaps, it would be told no. It did not want to swallow that pill just yet. It refused to settle for second-best without even trying.

@Selenite-Gamma

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Vargas

Hemlocke

Garnet-Epsilon

Cain

Vander

Wolfsbane

Vargas

Hemlocke

Garnet-Epsilon

Cain