ORIGIN - Run Boy Run...

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He returns...

After a few minutes, James came galloping back towards the two, a weird object held between his teeth. He slowed to a trot and glanced from Pride to Alpha a few times, before setting the bag down and mumbling something to Pride.

"... I'm too scared to give it to him, so um... I'll uh... h-hang on,", he said and tried to use one of his spells to try and give the bag of treats to the beast.

To his surprise, the bag shot up easily and floated over, opening before being delicately placed on the ground. James blinked, incredibly surprised because 1. He'd never used that spell ever, and 2. It was a bag of popcorn! Why couldn't it have gone so well with like... His wisps! Sigh.

With another nuzzle and a flick of his tail, he bounded off, head low and bashful.

Oh yeah, the popcorn looked fresh out the microwave, and covered in butter. Yum.

Exit James. Again.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

For some reason, the bottom of the container of popcorn contained a large number of still-moving, buttery beetles.

Crunchy.

James would remember it, at least — and that was pleasing enough to know. The horse offered an apology it didn't particularly acknowledge before racing off again, favoring a leg.

As for Pride… the orthoclase stared for a moment at the summary, either committing it to memory or deciding whether or not it was worth remembering. It could very well be an empty threat, and the dragons were alone — on the other hand, it would be easier to forge an alliance based only on their offering stones and receiving little but permission to live peacefully in their cave. Perhaps… it was worth mentioning later. Vargas planned on quiet infiltration, but that step could be skipped altogether? It could then produce spawn —

"Hm," Alpha grunted anticlimactically after such a long pause.

Stags seemed better than horses, anyhow — and that strange thought of Astraea's uniqueness came to mind again. "I know my Masters," it stated with a surprisingly mild sprinkling of annoyance, "I thought —"

Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Acidic eyes fixated on the red-and-white striped object immediately, if only for its peculiarity and it seeming… to not belong. It looked made. The bag met the ground, levitated, and fell at its feet. The orthoclase was half-tempted to move away from it, take a swing at it and hiss — but it wasn't alone. Quills pricked in mild apprehension instead, tapping at the lip a few timed and being rewarded with small crinkles each time.

Hm, and it casually rocked back onto its haunches to investigate the popcorn idly. It seemed — edible. Something (common sense, mostly) probably should have told it to stop taking food from strangers, but children never seemed to have the malicious intent to poison it.

The Collector might've had other ideas for some unsuspecting Greater coming across that bag, but the orthoclase didn't seem to mind putting a fistful of popcorn and squirming beetles in its mouth. Why would it? It was a variety of textures that made for very noisy and gross chewing for that one handful.

Alpha slid the bag behind its arm for safekeeping, apparently pleased with popcorn-beetle trail mix.

Back to interrogating, like Pride hadn't just witnessed its discovery of yet another non-rat food item, it prodded, "you brought people to Cetus, I remember. The dragon — and others." Eyes glanced up and down. "Why do they follow you?" It wasn't actually meant to be an insult, but it certainly could be misconstrued as one. The only world Alpha'd lived in thus far was one where the strongest were on top — and the white stag looked like a relatively stiff breeze would blow him over.

@Pride

Pride stared, with some consternation, at the popcorn-and-beetles. He glanced back at James, puzzled--and then back at Alpha.

"That--I do not know where he got that. It may not be safe," he warned--too late, it seemed, as the Orthoclase shovelled both into its maw.

Pride had seen stranger things. Not... many, but enough that he simply stared, rather than recoiling in horror.

Its question didn't strike him as an insult, but a genuine question, and he was actually rather proud at it; he hadn't thought of them as "following" him. And it occurred to him that he hadn't yet explained, to the Orthoclase, that gemstones were the key to the dragons' loyalty, so he decided not to spill that here and now.

A little moral lesson instead, perhaps-? Yes... it would be good to explain to it how allegiance worked, he thought. "I would not say that they follow me, precisely," he began, with a humble dip of his head, "but we have one anothers' best interests in mind. We all aid one another; I did not gather the group to go to Cetus. We agreed to help because we are allies. We are all allies," he added, slowly, to be sure this didn't fly past Orthoclase-Alpha's attention. "When the Children of Rot need help, the Bonebound and the Seven aid them. When the Seven need help, the Children and the Bonebound come. And the dragons," he added. "I seem to recall hearing that you, and your Overseer, are products of another time; but you had best warn him that your Masters have come to accept this new order, and that it might be unwise to challenge it all at once. We have formed a society based on cooperation." He paused, and then added, in thought, "And in killing those who pose a threat to the rest of us, though that generally applies to real and deadly threats, and not... whatever it is you are doing. You saw that, I suppose, in Cetus; you cooperated with us. I'd recommend that we continue to work together, and not make enemies of one another. It benefits no one."

A long pause, listening to the crunching, and then-

"In any case, yes, I am a stag, as is Astraea. Is there anything else you wished to know?"

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Food was food, and Alpha didn't seem deterred from keeping the bag close to it.

It licked residual butter and beetle-bits off its jaws as Pride answered; and it was more than disappointed by what he said… mostly because it lacked the grand proclamation of power or dominion. Simply that they were allies and that that transcended a need for the power struggles and infighting Alpha wished it could engage in (but, alas, Beta seldom took its bait for combat, Vargas was its Overseer, and Titanite was… not too invested in anything but feeding people with his toes.)

To think that the Masters — "my Overseer meets with the Masters. We would know." It bristled slightly, but unsure of exactly why; they could fight their own battles, and it wasn't like its honor was at stake.

"My orders are to fight and prove myself worthy as a champion and a design for reproduction," Alpha stated plainly, though it looked away apprehensively, "I — and Selenite-Gamma — was there for that and that only. Practice." It hadn't known what the enemy they were fighting actually was, only that there were mighty beasts to combat. "The Bonebound leader put me on guard for… the bone-reader, and I defeated the shaggy-beast." (Assumed it had, anyways.)

Like it was being coerced into an unsavory deal with this, it narrowed its eyes, "I owe you nothing." But, at least, "I do not kill often." Reassuring.

"Is there anything else you wished to know?"

The orthoclase mulled over that, smoothing its quills, and tried to rephrase its prior question in a way that offered the answer it wanted: "do you have strong magic?"

@Pride

"My Overseer meets with the Masters. We would know."

Pride himself nearly bristled in response, and he was about to fire off a snappy retort--probably something along the lines of "Apparently you do not," except Orthoclase kept talking. And what it said next--about allowances--stirred unexpected pity in him.

Selenite-Gamma. Orthoclase-Alpha. Those names-... and--training?

Pride's chin rose just a notch, and he regarded the massive beast with something like sad dignity. When he spoke, it was more softly.

"And that is not how the rest of us live. We are free to reproduce as we like. We needn't prove ourselves to anyone. One of us is not more valuable, more-..." And here he searched for the right word, briefly, "-Not worth more than another simply because of their abilities. We all contribute to the whole. Some create. Some listen, offer an ear, or kindness, when others need it. And we have names, you know-? Identities. Whatever world your Overseer is from, it doesn't exist any longer, and you are the poorer for it." This last was said with sympathy, but as soon as the words left his mouth he feared that Orthoclase-Alpha might take it as an insult. Quick to try and forestall it, he pressed--"Do you never wish to have a name of your own-? To choose your own path? Or do you merely wish to fight, and be led where they would send you?"

Pride shook his head, and sighed.

"In response to your question, I have honed my magic as best I can, and I continue to do so. I do not test myself against others for little reason, but I do not know many who have strengthened it as far as I have. It has been a long training, requiring immense dedication, to get this far." He did not outright state "I'm the most powerful magic user anyone's ever seen," or the like, because he didn't believe as much; he didn't know all that many casters, and had never actually asked to see the extent of anyone else's power. He had only ever really seen Reseda's extremes, and they had been comparable to his own--mind-magic, telekinesis, blasts of energy--and the others he had met had been new with magic, at best.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Its posture… softened a little at Pride's words, less because of who was speaking them but the — intangible sensation that ran through it. Alpha internally balked at the feeling, clawing at it and tamping it down. Regardless of how much it might quietly enjoy the presence of some — or seeing the caves without constantly sensing for possible sparring partners — it lived for that structure and constant search for being worthy of a purpose; that looking for its Overseer's respect because he was strong and few in the Caves matched him.

Creating? Listening? Kindness? The orthoclase knew it did none of that, could not do any of that — perhaps not even if ordered to. It didn't know how.

Alpha bristled reflexively at the blatant attack on its worldview, but slipped into a dull stupor at simply being asked if it'd ever wanted. Only what the Overseer wishes, it wanted to say, but that seemed too… rigid? Formulated? It had to hide.

A solid thirty seconds passed before it remembered to answer, supplying a simple, quiet, "... no." To all of that — it wanted to survive. This was its best method. In any case, it thought it was too late to run away, even if it wanted to; it was in too deep to start feeling remorse and guilt.

Up went the wall - "it's better that way," growled out of its throat, even as it sat there, claws rooting themselves into the stone.

Pride, at least, answered its question — and despite the heaviness still sitting in its lungs and limbs, it challenged, "show me." Alpha stood and preemptively adopted a defensive crouch. "You don't test yourself against others? How do you learn - anything?"

@Pride

Ahh.

Either it was defensive, or it truly didn't care about any of that.

Its challenge, such as it was, didn't seem hostile--but it was a demand, something Pride didn't often take well from others. Still, there seemed to be no deliberate command in it--it was more that Orthoclase-Alpha seemed... well, socially inept.

Pride struggled with himself, for a moment. He knew it wasn't wise to start a real fight with something like this creature, but that wasn't really a concern; his own safety never had been, really. Never in his life. Rather, he was fighting, again, against his own tendency to go straight to destroying things that he perceived as a potential threat. One part of him insisted it was best to just try to beat the hell out of Orthoclase-Alpha to make a point. Practically, he knew that it was stupid; a foolish risk and one that would only make enemies. It wasn't a sadist, it was just... Well, yes it was dangerous, but-...

Pride gritted his teeth, subtly, and thought.

What would Mercy do-?

A flare of inspiration struck. The stag lowered his head to the ground, nose lightly touching the rock, and concentrated. He didn't quite get the color right; what sprouted was more yellow than tan or green. But it was shaped like Orthoclase-Alpha, perhaps eight inches long, glittering and multi-faceted with its many limbs and savage jaw. He spoke, as the gemstone took shape, his voice half-distant with focus.

"I cast my magic, and then I practiced. Primarily in Polaris; I found it more chaotic there, more difficult to control. I challenged myself. I tested my own boundaries... I still do. And necessity came into it."

Pride stepped back, giving the gemstone Orthoclase a brief nudge, and looking up to the real thing. "An example, and a gift. Precision is as important as power, at times. As for necessity, there are those who would make war on us; who would harm the innocent; who would take advantage of the weak." He turned, nodding and back to the distant throne, to the bones he knew were there, though they were hardly visible from here. "Their bones serve as a warning to the others who would attempt such."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

The orthoclase took a short stride forward as Pride hesitated and lowered his head to the ground. Its head was down, eyes tracing his motion and — huh?

Glowing eyes widened slightly as gemstone appeared from seemingly nothing, even while the stag was speaking. It was distracted from the cast, but it periodically glanced down at the forming statuette. "I have not gone to Polaris," it said distantly. Pride finished, nudging it and stepping back — and it stared down.

Wait, he's still talking — a… gift? "What… is that?" it interrupted briefly.

Precision was meant for… spars where it wasn't actively trying to pummel its opponent. But — for magic? The most precise form of it it possessed was disrupting magic; so, not very. It briefly considered asking for advice even though it'd deflected the rest of it, but it tensed.

That was a thinly-veiled threat and… it was well aware that it was outmatched by magic. In light of that, the orthoclase took another step forwards, quills pricking — a not-so-subtle attempt to take up more room.

Acidic eyes looked to the figurine again, extending an arm and quickly snatching it up for inspection. It sparkled in the light, and was certainly a more flattering (and wholesome) depiction of it than some in the caves. The orthoclase clearly wasn't sure what to do with it.

@Pride

"Well, Polaris is good for practicing," Pride said, in an encouraging tone.

Was it--was it asking him what a gift was? No, that can't be right; it must be asking what the material is. "Gemstone... a form of magic."

The stag lifted his head, a little, and decided, abruptly, and with a distant sense of mischief, to play things up a little. "I would offer to show you more combat-oriented magics, but most of my magic would destroy you, I fear. It is not... kind. And in any case, I am impervious to damage."

He still had his repel spell up and active. If Orthoclase-Alpha attacked him, it might be hilarious, he thought, to make it believe he really was untouchable. Hilarious--and useful.

"As for the gemstone, you may keep it, if you wish."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

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