ORIGIN - You Got To Give The Other Fellow Hell

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set a couple days after beatris' death

He'd given Two the white sapling, and then gone back about his work. But the time, he knew, was fast approaching. He had all he'd needed to learn, and he went over it in his mind, in a meditative trance, again and again and again.

Size. Shape. Movements.

He wanted lithe, and graceful. He wanted elegant, beautiful. A perfect creation, as his Lord had demanded.

Temperature limitations. Endurance limits. Physical strength, speed, flexibility.

He would make her strong; but agile, for her size. But carefully within the limits imposed by the species.

Dietary preferences. Senses' sharpness. Pain tolerance. Emotional threshholds. Emotions, themselves.

He would give her fire, and cunning. And he would give her a spark of independence. Could one impart courage? Heroism? Defiance..? Vargas would try. Perfection, after all, was not dumb obedience... and there were certain worlds to be built.

Social bonds, problem-solving, intelligence, resourcefulness.

All of this--and so, so much more--had been rigorously tested, again and again, though he had not gone about it with any sadism. It had not been a torture, though undoubtedly, parts--dehydration tests, hunger tests, infection resilience--had been... unpleasant. But now that the test subject herself was gone, Vargas was ready. He had had, too, some time to rest from his other creations.

It was time.

He went to Two, his gait slow, thoughtful, even cautious; his gaze swung to her: the child, sitting there, always frightened yet defiant. 'I do expect you'll dispose of them once their purpose is served.' The thought came unbidden, a memory, sparks of fervent loyalty and dislike welling up at once. Vargas pushed both harshly aside. Why had he bothered with the tree-? She would not be living too much longer, anyway. Would she?

"I have another project that I require your help with," he informed her, matter-of-factly.

He gave no indication that it was the biggest, the final test, the test of not only Two and humans but of Master Vargas, of the caves. Of everything.

No pressure, or anything.

@Two (just whenever, so I don't forget to make this)

The sapling was her whole world right now. It had been described to her as having white bark and yellow leaves, and it had been planted in the sand of the alcove where she tended to it gingerly. She whispered to it, told it jokes, spoke to it as if it were Beatris herself. She laughed and cried, and curled up at its base to sleep. This was a gift from Beatris, and so she treasured it with her whole life.

Vargas had said that Beatris had been returned to the surface, where her body could heal and she could recover. Two was saddened to be left alone, yes, but it made her happy to think that Beatris could be well again, and return to her family. Maybe Two would get to go home someday, and see her dad again!

So her spirits had lifted considerably, and she was much more pliable to his demands.

Today when he approached the alcove and said he needed her help with something, she happily stood and smiled at him. "I'm a good helper!" she promised, taking a few careful steps forward to find him, reaching with her soft hands to pat him on the face. Or chin. Or whatever part of his big weird face stuck out the most.

@Vargas

He had worked incessantly.

But the gift of the tree, and its effect on the child, had been... noticeable. It had left him watching, when she was unaware of it (in her blindness), silent.

Malformed. Blind, weak. His mind cast back to the crippled, suffering failed creations that dragged themselves along the ground until he came for them: a merciful end. He remembered them: their death throes, their final pleadings, the taste of blood on his teeth and tongue.

And he remembered... Lorekeeper.

One of the old guard, and he had let her live, despite that same frantic begging, that same realization at his approach and why-? That was his purpose, after all: to cull the weak, to enhance the strong, to improve the nest. Vargas was, in a sense, a pure force of brutal natural selection. I might make use of her design, in the future--crippled or not she is one of the only old ones remaining, had been what he'd told himself at the time.

Had been his excuse. The truth was, he'd had no real reason to kill her. The whole nest was weak and while yes, that elicited disgust, it was also warring in his mind with some of what he had seen in recent days. He valued strength, and this thing--this creature--was blind, and small, a twisted hybrid of pointless form. He valued destruction: he would create a world-ender. He'd just never really asked himself why. He'd not been made to.

Is this the world we would make? had been a question striking him constantly and watching Two crying to a tree had had him hesitate. ...Well, he didn't want a world with blind children crying at trees, to be certain, but a world in which monsters like himself (and no guilt, there, he was a very fine specimen of a monster) killed children as a matter of course-? And so in between his checking of the chrysalises, he had quietly, distantly, watched her tell a sapling jokes. In between his hunts, he had seen her sleeping at its base. As he had scratched out plans and preparations, notes across the walls, he had listened to her whispering and laughing.

Now she came to him, tiny hand reaching up, feeling for him--and he was over ten feet in the air, so he wasn't sure what the hell she was reaching for but he bent down nonetheless, offering first a nudge of a massive snout and then, carefully, the curling massive monster hand with six thumbs--moving to enclose her tiny hand in his own.

Hmm. Well, if he was already embracing a spark of rebellion, may as well make it a fire.

"Very good. Now--hold on a moment," he added, and retracted his hand, going to cover her ears, rather than telling her to do it herself and waiting--"Everyone, out. All of you, to Tunnel K, and do not let anyone in through Canis, and do not stay in Canis yourselves. I require full attention--NO distractions. This is it; this is where I prove my worth, and that of all of you."

There. Now he would be alone with Two, if the Sentinels obeyed.

He moved to take her hand again, to lead her gently toward the wall near the chrysalids, near where he'd scratched his notes in the rock.

"I am going to teach you to do a bit of magic, so that we can fix a stone, Two. I cannot fix it on my own--I will need your help, hm? It will be hard, but I will help you, and then-..."

"...Then I will give you a vacation. A rest, yes? You will meet a new friend," he informed her.

@Two

She couldn't tell, of course, that he was too high up for her to reach. When her hands found his nose, she grinned. Then his own hand was grasping hers, and she instinctively tried to grasp back, but her hand was barely half the size of his palm; well, it was still comfortable either way. Then he moved to cover her ears, but his hands could hold her entire head! Her small hands move to rest on his, holding too, as if she were helping. Despite her ears being covered, she could still hear his booming voice telling the others to leave. Wow! Everyone was leaving!? Were they doing something super secret!?

When he grasped her hand again, she threw a cheeky look over her shoulder to the sapling. A secret project! "Shh!" she warned it, and turned with a gentle stumble and bubbling giggle as she followed Vargas with quick strides of her tiny legs. There were big gemstones here, and scratches in the wall, but it didn't really mean anything to her because she couldn't see them; and then he told her she'd be learning a bit of magic.

She gasped. "I know some!" she said proudly, and clasped her other hand onto the one already holding one of hers, and focused: BEHOLD, THE GREAT MAGIC OF TAMULUS!

There was a tingling in her hands but nothing exciting happened, not like when she shocked the mean lady. She squinted at her hands, turning the free one over and pouting at it. "Eehh?" she wondered aloud, then dismissed the issue as he told her they'd be fixing a stone—and then there would be a vacation! And meet a NEW friend!

"Wow!" exclaimed her voice, and she did a little jumping dance while holding onto his hand. "A new friend? Like Beatris?" she asked excitedly, and then her voice fell. "Wait, don't I get to go home, too?" Was her dad worried she was gone? Was he even okay?

Two leaned forward against his arm to sniff at the other big stones, though she felt a bit sad now at the thought: was she staying down here for a while?

But the task before them was difficult, apparently; so much so that Vargas couldn't do it on his own and would need her help. She crawled slightly onto his arm, heaving herself up and over so that she dangled by her waist, legs kicking behind her.

"A broken stone?" she echoed finally, looking toward the chrysalis closest to her, sniffing to see if it smelled hurt, wondering if that was the one with the booboo. "How do we fix it?" Do they kiss it and make it better?

@Vargas

He led her to a bare space near the wall, near the other chrysalids. He wanted to use that space, to ensure nothing got in the way of the formation of this new being--the last thing he wanted was for some stray rock to somehow ruin Lord Dhracia's ultimate creation. Now, wouldn't that be a tragedy.

So he was careful, and left nothing to chance.

He paused and glanced down, curious, at Two's insistence that she knew magic--nothing happened, and he grunted, echoing without much thought the reassuring, but true, platitudes he offered everyone: "Magic is a very fickle thing, child. I do not rely on it, myself; even mine fails more often than it works." It was true, too; best to rely, Vargas thought, on one's own strength.

He just hoped his magic didn't fail him today.

'A new friend? Like Beatris?' He mentally compared the two: Beatris, and the planned 'new friend,' weeping quietly over an image of Two's very creator. Both were weak. Both were sickly. "...Yes, she is very much like Beatris. A little older, perhaps," he added, with secret amusement, "but I think she will like you." 'Wait, don't I get to go home, too?' Vargas paused, at this, at least mentally. How could he answer that? Of course not. She could never be seen again. She would spend the rest of her days in these caves, trapped like the rest of them.

Hm.

He spoke not with aching pity or the like, but matter-of-fact, if somewhat sympathetic, words. Her childlike grief didn't tear at his heart, but he also wasn't entirely unmoved. "We will see. But there are many places for you to explore here, before you go. Waterfalls, and forests; ancient cities and seas." Ahh, but she is blind. "You might swim, and smell them, and hear the birds; and perhaps find someone who can show you what these places look like. There is a magic of the mind that can share such things."

Her mind shifted, at least, to the stone and the task at hand and Vargas exhaled and refocused his own mind. He pictured it, in preparation: an elegant human, tall and slender, beautiful and terrible, cunning, intelligent, and with a passionate dislike of broccoli. His Master's magic was still fresh, untested, and undoubtedly it would come out imperfect--and that bothered him. Lord Dhracia would judge him, and potentially all the caves, on such a thing; and it was to be a world-ender, as a first true creation. Or, a second; but there was no question there would be... errors. Let alone with the little additions he was trying to sprinkle in, like defiance and strength and a kernel of kindness and all of that.

Vargas took a breath, and focused.

"Very well. Listen very closely, child. I will set a piece of small and broken stone before you, and you must push all the magic that you can into it. Your very heart and soul, yes? You must wish it to be whole, again; to grow. And I will add my own magic, and we will guide it together, hm? -Are you ready?" he added, and turned his head back to eye his stone.

She wanted it at the nape of the creature's neck. She wanted Light element inside it. He could do that--he hoped.

A brief flick of magicka, and there was a very undramatic little crack; an unassuming piece of oily stone slipped free of his own, so small that he very nearly did not catch it before it hit the ground. He winced at the sensation--his stone was something he guarded zealously, and rarely gave of--and then turned, bringing his hand around to hold it in his palm before Two where she dangled off his uncaring arm.

"Here--just in front of you. Shall we try? It is a very small thing; it needs your help," he went on, quietly cautious in his tone.

@Two

Magic was fickle, he said. She pushed it aside and pretended like it hadn't happened; maybe next time she'd show him! Yeah! When he mentioned the new friend was older than Beatris, she let out a picky little groan. Beatris was already old! And boring! And now she was gone! Maybe the new friend would like to play more than Beatris did though! Well, Two thought about it for a very brief moment, and decided that it wasn't really her fault for being unable to play. Beatris was sick and stuff, after all.

Vargas explained the caves, how much there was to explore, and honestly she was intrigued! She wasn't allowed to leave her old home unless she went somewhere with her dad—which was really, if he left, she had to accompany him. She wasn't allowed to be alone, but now that she did feel alone, it made her sad. She was surrounded by big monsters and she couldn't even begin to imagine what they really looked like. But, apparently there was magic that could show her. Two made a soft oooh sound. That definitely sounded cool!

She listened carefully as he explained what they needed to do. While she used his arm like a jungle gym, she was honestly listening. He asked if she was ready and she gave a sound somewhere between a yip and a yep!

When he mentioned the stone was before her, she slid free from his arm and crouched, her chest resting against her knees. Two carefully reached forward until her tiny hands closed around the chunk of stone. Cool! She felt it in her hands, marveled at its facets; it was like a little piece of treasure! But it was hurt, right? It needed their help!

"It's okay little stone," she said softly to it, bringing it close to her chest and steadying herself in her squat. She wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to be doing, but she followed his instructions: push all her magic into it, her heart and soul...

Her breathing slowed and she could feel it, sense it, see it: little strands of magic that tickled at the edge of her mind's eye, reaching, grasping for the stone. Yes. This was it right? Was this helping?

"See, it's okay," she whispered, focusing on the transfer; and there were other wisps too, from Vargas, and they flowed into her veins and into her magic. Together, they could do it! She smiled, and brought the stone up to her lips, giving it a soft kiss. "Kiss it, make it better," came her tiny voice.

And it sparked in her hand. Not like her magic, not a shock that tingled her skin, but a breath of life. She dropped her knees into the dirt and placed the rock carefully down, giving it a gentle pat. "See, all better!" she said with a grin. The rock seemed as if it were growing, so Two shuffled backward and waited, swallowing. It was supposed to do that right? She looked toward Vargas for further instruction, if there was anything else... but she felt the need to quietly say: "We did it!"

He went still, as she touched the stone, and he concentrated.

All of Vargas' focus was given to this moment, and a great deal of his magic, too. He guided hers, strengthened it--a mere child might not have survived an attempt of this magic without his own backing hers. And he shaped it, too.

Ethereal. Tall. Terrible and beautiful.

He inhaled, and closed his eyes, feeling the flow of magicka from he and Two into the stone. This was it; this was his moment of truth, his proving, his entrance exam, his chance to prove that he was capable of succeeding where Astraea and the others had failed.

Slender, and graceful. Physically capable, but within human limits...

Vargas exhaled, slowly, strengthening the magic, the molding. He would show that this nest held something worth saving, if only him, and his spawn, and his work. Perhaps he could convince his Lord to give the nest to him. To save it, to grant him power, to give them a stay of execution, to allow him to further show his ability.

Light magic. Oil-stone, nape of the neck. Absolute hatred of broccoli.

There was still a chance, here. There were random spawn--many weak, but many strong. He had potential to work with. And with this newfound power, the strength of a Master granted him, he would build them into...

Rebellion. Fire.

Two was kissing the stone better.

A touch of kindness. Mercy.

...Build them into what? Well, that would remain to be seen. But it would be something grand.

Vargas finished the weaving of magic, and staggered back with a quiet gasp. He'd put too much of himself into it, really--a desperate attempt to prove his power, to create the awesome being of Lord Dhracia's desires, with his own small twist. And he'd created so many spawn of late-... He felt weakened. He took a breath, and opened his eyes, laying them upon the oily stone.

Doubt hit him, now; he hoped--desperately hoped--that this would be good enough. And 'good enough' could only mean perfect.

"Good. Very good," he told the beaming Two, and his tone was quiet, worn and gentle. He moved to scoop her up in his arms. "Now come, and we will go and meet your friend. We must be quick," he added, quietly.

It occurred to him only now that in sending everyone away, the Bonebound at least would have access to this stone--only for a few moments, but they had, at least, never been a threat before. And this small oily rock was no different than any of the other, far larger chrysalises that lay here. Still, Vargas did not want to risk it; a quick movement of his free hand, and he had placed a couple smaller rocks to obscure this one. It would do, for now--but he would need to be quick.

For more reasons than one.

@Two

"Good. Very good." She grinned at the praise, but her smile fell a little when he mentioned it was time to go meet her new friend. The old person!? Well, if they were like Beatris, maybe it would be okay. Maybe they would be better than Beatris because they wouldn't get sick and have to leave her. Two shifted on her feet and reached out with her hands, feeling for Vargas. He met her reaching and scooped her up into his arms. Wee! She nestled in and had the excellent opportunity now to feel other parts of him she could not reach before. His skin was rough and weird, but almost like velvet in other places.

As she curled into him to rest and enjoy her free ride, she heard the quiet clatter and plonk of rocks. Her ears twitched, nose turning toward the sound. It felt like Vargas was moving, that he were the one making the sounds, so she asked, "What are you doing?" out of curiosity. And then, just as abruptly: "How far is my friend? What's their name? Do they like muskmelon—oh," she rolled onto her side, gripping his arm with her tiny hands, blind eyes peering down the tunnel. Her nose sniffed but she could not find it.

"Where's the other one, the other big monster?" she asked quietly, dropping her chin to rest on his arm. "The one that brought me muskmelon." Her little head turned, cheek still on his arm, as she looked toward where she assumed his face to be. "That's my friend, too." Her sightless eyes narrowed and she gripped his arm harder, as if she had any ounce of threat in her. "That was a very mean thing you did... to my friend," she said carefully, a sly way to let him know she had not forgotten the day she had arrived here. But, it seemed okay now. Right? She curled back into his arm and pouted a little at the memory of the sound she did not like. The splash of blood, grunts of pain...

She wanted to go home. She wondered if her new friend she would be meeting would know about how to get sick, like Beatris did. If Two was sick, she'd get to go home, right?

(my laptop is dying spare me im so sorry)
@Vargas

The child spoke, and Vargas was reminded--as she peered back and asked about melons of some sort--about her tree. He did an about-face, striding back and carefully excavating it with one hand. He dropped it, roots and all, into one of the upturned skulls that Doctor used as pots, and handed this to Two. "Carry your plant. I am walking to your new friend," he answered, with a grunt.

His paces were long, even on three legs, and he wound through Canis without delay. He paused twice to ensure that none were following--he'd left the Sentinels to guard, but still, it bore a double-check.

'My friend,' she said, and he felt her tiny hands squeeze. He didn't even assume that it might've been some kind of threat; he figured it was just... a grip, and he disregarded it. "Do you refer to Orthoclase-Alpha? Mean is the nature of these caves, child. Without that, our Lord would have killed it. It was a kindness, one that I hope that it deserved." It was said almost absently; his mind was elsewhere, at the moment. But he had, he hoped, spared Orthoclase's life.

He would have to wait and see; there was little more that he could do.

This, however... this was a gamble. One that had set his heart to racing. Dhracia had told him to kill this one and why was he sparing it-? The cave had had its share of rebellions; any more and it would be decimated, undoubtedly, the slate wiped clean. Why, then..? For one mere child?

Because I want to, he told himself, savagely. Vargas was no hero--he had no grand plans to save the caves, really, not past a rushed chance to have them all spared. He had no utopian future in his mind with this rebellion--he hadn't thought that far ahead. He knew only that the future he had been working toward was no longer one he wanted a part of, and that was as far as he had reasoned. Perhaps more would come later. If he were given the chance. Or perhaps not.

For now, he simply carried Two (and her potted tree, the gift from Beatris) along the Western Wall, until they reached the Lorekeeper's den. She was--or at least looked, from here--asleep; and Vargas bellowed down at her.

"LOREKEEPER," and his voice rang down, and then quieted--best not to be overheard, not for this. "I have seen the stone that you held close. The painted stone. This one was his creation," he growled, and set Two down, giving her a gentle nudge in the creature's direction. He doubted Two would have liked the sight of her: spiked, limp, lolling; lucky for Lorekeeper, then, that Two was blind.

"His creation, and perhaps his last, and in very mortal danger. You were a rebel, were you not..? Slated for death, yet somehow you escaped my attention? -Continue to do so, and take this child with you. Ensure she is not seen overmuch, or you--and we--are all dead. Are we clear?" And then, leaning in, his face an unpleasant sneer--"And in case you are harrassed by others, you may take solace in my rank: I am Master Vargas, now."

He pulled back, and his six eyes narrowed; he seemed to come to some internal realization. "My purpose with this one is done. You may find a name for her as you wish, and keep her. I will not be returning to claim her." A promise, then, that the so-called Lorekeeper could get attached: that Vargas was not coming back in a week, a cycle, a year, to kill her.

No: he wanted this one out of sight, out of mind, perhaps forever--but not dead.

Not this time.

@Two (and if you wanna post Lorekeeper? or just incorporate her into Two's post?)

When the skull-pot was handed to her, she inspected it quickly as he spoke—it was her tree! In a fancy carrying device! She wrapped her arms around it and was excited to know it was able to come with her. Vargas went on to talk about Alfa, and her face twisted in disagreement. If the nature of the caves was mean, that was really lame. What Vargas had done was definitely no kindness she had ever been taught. The rest of the trip was pretty quiet, with Two turning her head every now and then to sniff in a new direction or listen to the clattering of bones, the drip of water, and the thunderous footsteps of Vargas.

"LOREKEEPER!" came his voice suddenly, and she jumped at the sound. He talked about a stone or something and then set her down. Two carefully found her footing with the potted tree clutched to her chest. It made her lean back a little in her effort to hold it, but when she was nudged forward, she stumbled slightly. She hurriedly righted herself, alert as a shuffling movement came from within the den.

Two took several steps back, sniffing, unsure of what kind of creature lay hidden.

Vargas continued, saying someone's last creation was in mortal danger—wait, was that her? They'd die if she was seen... or something? Her brain began to turn the words into static and she shook her head, clutching the tree closer. Why did Beatris get to go home? Why couldn't she go home!?

A raspy breathing accompanied the sound of dragging limbs, the struggling scratches of claws on dirt and bone.

"I am not a babysitter," came the gnarled voice as Lorekeeper peered at Vargas from the den entrance. Her eyes shifted to the child and she frowned. Tamulus? She was quiet for a moment, regarding 'this one' with true sorrow. Lorekeeper was sorry it ever had to be made, and to now suffer eternity down here with her.

When Vargas said he wouldn't be coming back, Two quickly placed her plant down and turned to find him, arms outreaching, "no!" But she found only darkness, only emptiness. "No, I want to go home!" she cried, crouching where she was and hugging her knees. She didn't want to live with some random old lady in her stinky old lady den. She wanted to go home!!! He couldn't leave her here!!!

There was a warmth on her back, as if something were leaning against her.

"Do not cry, my sister," said a soft voice, warm and tired. Tamulus is... with us..." the voice was fading, as if this were getting to be too much. "Come inside... and see..." And the body moved away, the dragging sounds receding into the den to leave Two along again.

But Tamulus wasn't here!!! He wasn't!!! She sniffed up a big string of snot and wiped the remainder on her arm, then scooted her tree closer to the wall. She couldn't see if it would fit or not, and she couldn't reach the edges of the den—but she hoped it would be okay outside for a little bit. Obedient, she followed the other into the den, following the trail of warmth and raspy breaths. They disappeared into the ground, their voices muffled and far...

exit!

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